If you could imagine hums and whirs and beeps. Her eyes bulging, not being able to discern what she was really all about. Silks, precious fabrics, high-end cosmetics. Neutral, objective, unfathomable. She seemed to fill the space like a gas with a pleasant odour. 'So you have a degree but want to work as a checkout assistant, how come?'. Uneasy, light attacking and her eyes looking at my face. I look down, shuffle in my chair and gulp. 'Well, it is a company with an excellent reputation and in all honesty I have bills to pay''. She smiles, but without conviction. ''Have you tried to find jobs more relevant to your degree?''. I pick up the scissors and cut a sizable lump of flesh out of my forearm. I pick up the plastic chair and throw it as hard as I can against the interview room window. She flees the room, afraid, nervous and easy to read.