At precisely 11:24AM I arrived at the interview location "AZ INDUSTRIES." I'm trying to be a project manager; I used to want to be some sort of psychologist but I ultimately decided that i'm stupid because I AM THE ONE THAT NEEDS THE THERAPY. 
I've applied for multiple jobs because Maa started giving me a lecture about independence and all, however they've all rejected me because i dropped out of my final year of college. So here i am, at this big ass business acting like i have a chance.

I entered the building; it was welcoming but somewhat frightening, there was tall windows everywhere i looked, as though they're watching me. I subconsciously started comparing my every move to the girls that were walking past me: posture? check. Clothes? fair enough. Resting face? They had bright and warm resting faces, mine on the other hand was damn-

"Ouch!" I squealed, goddamn! People just don't have any manners.
"Oh... sorry, are you okay?" A man replied back.
Startled, I slowly looked up from the floor he just pushed me onto.
His voice was slightly tired yet slightly inquisitive. His brown eyes reflected; I could see myself through them. His head was slightly tilted to the right whilst his eyebrows were slightly raised, a look of worry and a look of curiosity; a chocolate Labrador. I decided he was a chocolate labrador.
Wait a minute, what the fuck am I doing?! Why am I analysing this guy? I just realised I've been aimlessly staring at him from the floor for the past two minutes and I fucking hate men.

"Yeah... i'm fine man just watch where you're going." I wasn't exactly sure how to reply because my head was spinning again, I thought my hangover had settled but clearly not, unless this was a result of being unexpectedly pushed right into the cold yet expensive looking floors of this building.
Without saying anything, he reached out his hand and offered it to me. I flinched. I thought he was about to h- never mind that.

Where in the fuck did i ask for this man to try and help me?! I have him a look; a mix of "piss off" and "i'm good thanks." Grabbing my folder and bag off the floor, I pulled myself up. "Shit" I whispered to myself, that was a very bad idea.