Itch...? Part 1

...Can it really be almost seven years?
I don't remember what day of the week it was, but I do remember that it all began on a day when my hair would not behave. Having had two failed interviews within the previous few days, I was spent. With the hair situation obviously meaning that I would not look my best, I decided that giving up trying to make a good impression and just taking everything as it came was the only way forward.
I arrived on time, just as the previous candidate was being shown out. The gentleman who showed me around introduced himself, went away to show the (utterly terrified-looking) candidate out, and then introduced himself to me again (which I found amusing), before taking me into the bookstack, right up to the top, and then admitting to me that he didn't really know his way around...
Pressing on, he showed me other floors of the stack, and the Reading Room, before taking me round to the office. I know now (having been pressed into service myself) that his purpose was to tell the panel what his impression of me had been; I must have made a favourable one.
The interview panel were pleasant enough. I answered the questions, the most useful thing I was able to bring being my knowledge of people having sold beer across the road for almost a year, and when I got the call later that day to offer me the job I accepted with enthusiasm.
I later concluded that being slightly un-groomed was hardly a hardship given the mess which some people walk around in, and that knowing most of the porters from the pub probably didn't hurt either.
Still seems unreal that this all happened in 2003!