Exercise number 1 — Twisted job application

To whom it may interest,

Please find my application for the position ‘creative know-it-all person’.

“We are looking for an active person, with a working knowledge of the fine things in life.”

As an Olympic athlete, I am known to jump trains and trucks with my motorbike. I am a World Cup defender for one of the lesser-known countries. My best quality, a love of blue cheese, I uphold, even though cream is not my stomach’s best friend. As the tallest, sweetest meat eater on my block, I hold no large flailing sticks against vegetarians. At times I try to emulate them, pluck free range chick peas from the garden. I live freely with my love of sweet potato, though I know not how it differs from yam.

“This person can improvise when placed in difficult situations, and is easily adaptable to a changing work environment.”

I mime, earning spare change on street corners. My best performance wowed the Queen. My influences are random: sometimes I like men with hats, at other times Irish dancers waving their arms at the sky.

“The successful candidate will be devoted to human rights and diplomacy.”

My power convinces friends to wash greasy post-party dishes, and children to sleep at allotted bedtimes. No flag poles decorate my lawn. Refugees are welcome to sleep in my Daihatsu.

“Knowledge of written and spoken English is a must. The applicant must know the rules so as to bend and break them when necessary.”

I am not a convict to other people’s spelling. Nor does it rock my foundations to hack at an infinitive. I am not numbed by university teachings (’t’would be too passive); university teachings numb me. My learning of Latin is elementary, but my main complaint lies with the English.

“Accepting instructions and working as a team member is a must, however the applicant will need to demonstrate self-confidence and the ability to fight fairly for their ideas.”

When you jump, my blades of grass flatten, but my football field of life overgroweth. My candelabra has only just been lit. I will not walk when I can run. I will not trudge up your mountain of possibilities till I reach you. You, the phantom reader, you the ramshackle audience, poking your thumbs in my eyes. I feel eminently qualified for this job and would be the best candidate, and first around the block. Pick me! Pick me!