Trying to hit the big time...
...as a teenager I was rather interested in becoming a TV presenter so I thought the best way to do this was maybe try getting a job somewhere behind the scenes, and maybe I could work my way up somehow with the aid of a lucky break.

So, I applied for a job as a 'runner' on a popular late night BBC chat show. I assumed by entering, regular marathon runner, keen fitness enthusiast, orienteering, and rock climbing under my hobbies would be a great help.

Now I may have told a couple of white lies there, but I went to the interview thinking nothing of it. Anyway, my time comes, I hear "Send the next one Katie" come across the intercom, my name's called out and I'm told to go down to the room at the end of the hallway for the interview.

As I got to the door at the end of the hallway, the manager must've been reading my CV at the time, because as he heard a knock...knock...knock at the door, he said "Come on in Mr Johnson".

I tried, but couldn't get in, so I knock...knock...knocked again, and once more I heard "Come on in Mr Johnson". This went on another 4 or 5 times, before I started to hear a far more agitated and angrier voice calling to me "COME ON IN MR JOHNSON".

I was trying but all my efforts to get into the room were to no avail. All of a sudden, I hear what seems to be the sound of a chair being 'back of the knees' sent backwards rolling across the room, thump...thump...thumps getting closer towards me, and an under the breath muttering of "ffs".

It was then that I felt I'd blown my chances of getting this job even before the interview had started. The door swung open right in front of me and I was greeted by the manager and "WHAT'S THE MATTER WITH YOU?, WHY DIDN'T YOU COME IN WHEN I TOLD YOU?, ARE YOU STUPID OR SOMETHI...".

This is when he looked down at me and felt guilty as he noticed I was in a wheelchair, had no legs and I was really struggling to get up the step into his office. He then, like the gentleman he was, picked me up, and carried me into his office and sat me down upon his chair. He sat down opposite me, with a look of pity upon his face, promptly ripped my CV up, and asked me how the accident happened. We talked as if we'd known each other for years, but I left feeling I should have been more honest in my hobbies section.

Anyway, I got a phone call a couple of days later I had got the job, and after working there for a couple of weeks I learned that the boss suffered from alzheimers.

I have now worked there for 6 years, however, a current employer on my behalf is currently locked in a human rights battle to get a little ramp built to get me into and out of his office on my own accords, but it doesn't bother me too much because I'm still happy to have the old chap carry me in and out of his office on a daily basis (he's even painted a couple of white stripes outside his office for me to park my wheelchair, and there's talk of getting a door knob put on 1 foot up so I can open it for myself and simply crawl in should he be out).

Apologies for length, but they do only go down to the knee after all.
(Lt Columbo, Sat 8 Jul 2006, 0:04, Reply)