Doris's Question Time

"How did it go?"

"It was all right."

I had been to a Very Important Dinner. The idea was that myself and other heads of department, from this property and others, would dine with the candidates who had applied for the new and prestigious Very Important New Role in the organisation. We would mix and mingle with the potential new bosses and ask thoughtful and incisive questions.

I had given long and careful consideration to the questions I would ask. I had devoted almost as much time to them as I had as to what to wear.

"So, did you ask your questions?"

"I asked some questions, yes."

It was not my fault. The candidates weren't allowed to remain seated next to the same person for too long, they kept getting moved along, almost like we were speed dating. You'd just get the small talk out of the way and be about to launch your killer question when the organiser would tap his knife on his wine glass and call a halt to proceedings.

"What did you ask?"

It really was not my fault. I've been the only one on duty since my old Boss left at the end of March. I don't get to go out in the evenings as a rule. I was over-excited by the people, the food and drink.

"Come on, you must have got at least one of your questions in. The one about reward and recognition? Security cover? Lone working? Long term visions?"

"Not really, no. I mostly asked about wine."

"Wine."

"Yes. I asked if they could pass the wine, if there was any more wine, if anyone was drinking the wine on their table and if not whether I could have it, you know, the usual wine related queries that come up at dinner.

I think I made an impression."