Wouldn't it be fantastic if Josh got the job, though? Throughout the day, I keep drifting off into reveries in which Josh owns a chain of cinemas, and is able to keep his mother in the style to which she would like to become accustomed. Then I could tell The Boss where to stuff his job next time he makes me deal with a total lunatic without security. Or if he ever pretends that he has fallen asleep while I am speaking again.
Reality makes its presence felt the moment I get home, though. Josh is back in ranting constituent mode as soon as I step through the front door. Can't say I blame him. What on earth has happened to interviews? When did they become about how much a candidate is prepared to humiliate him or herself?
Apparently, the Jobcentre sent about eighty young people for the interviews at the cinema - which rather undermined the impressiveness of Josh's achievement in being one of them. They were split into two groups, and then set some of the most stupid and demeaning tasks I can imagine.
These included being asked which fruit you are, and why. (What the hell kind of stupid question is that?) Then came an exercise in recalling and repeating everything the previous ten people had said in one of those "I went to the shops and I bought" tasks so beloved of 1980s TV improvisation shows - you know, the ones which starred Josie Lawrence and occasionally John Sessions (before he got fat and unrecognisable).
If the candidates hadn't already lost the will to live by this point, they then had to say what their favourite film was - to which Josh was, unsurprisingly, the only one to say "Mrs Doubtfire." Next, they were each paired up with another applicant to act out dialogue from film scripts.
I mean, I know this is a job in a cinema, and Josh did have high hopes for his Film Studies A-level, but really - does he actually need to be able to act and recite in order to sell tickets and over-priced popcorn? He reckons he's in with a chance of getting the job, though, as he says most of the other candidates were dead from the neck up and could barely remember their own names. Three of them apparently chose vegetables when they were asked what fruits they were - which Josh thought very appropriate.
He finds out sometime in the next two days if he's been successful. It'll be very worrying indeed if he hasn't been. In the meantime, maybe I should start asking constituents what sort of fruit they are - though the answer would be bound to be "cake."