It was my first job interview for a teaching position at a big school. I had applied fresh out of college, and amazingly, I got an interview at a well-respected private school.

I sat nervously, my leg bouncing up and down since I seemed unable to remain still. I had seen three girls parade out of the office so far, all of them with an unencouraging confidence written across their faces. Finally it was my turn; I hopped up and nearly danced into the principal’s office. He sat lazily in his chair, his grey hair slowly lifting and falling with the warm summer breeze drifting in through his grand windows, his eyes barely skimming above the top of his glasses. Mumbling tired greetings, he motioned to a large leather chair for me in front of his dark wooden desk. I sat down, sliding against the cool leather as I fidgeted with the hem of my skirt, forcing myself to try and remain still.

Barely glancing up, he adjusted his glasses and stuck out his hand. I tried to discreetly brush my clammy fingers against my sunshine yellow skirt before limply leaning forward for the handshake. I could practically see the thoughts running through his head: Just another girl, they all are starting to look the same. I hope she is the last one.

He began in a slow, monotonous voice as he droned on, asking well worn questions. What would your teaching style be? How would you handle discipline in the classroom? What is your teaching background? I answered in what I hoped were fresh and appropriate answers, but by the unimpressed look on his face I could tell he had heard it all before.

About half way through the interview I felt a small tickling on my foot. I ignored it at first, convinced it was just my mind giving feelings to my nervousness. I felt the little tickle slide up my ankle and nearly jumped out of my skin when I realized a bug had decided to try and crawl up my leg. Thoughts crawled through my head, filling it with images of fiendish spiders and various mercenary insects coming in for the kill. I fought to keep track of the principal’s monotonous voice as he continued, oblivious of the terror coursing through me. Countless plans swarmed through my head, each more outrageous than the last. Maybe if I pretend I need to blow my nose he wouldn’t notice or if I just pretend to swoosh my skirts the bug would fall to its death? Maybe if I just squeeze my knees together it might crush the life out of it? The thought of killing something against my bare skin sent shivers up my spine.

I shifted in my seat trying my best to multitask, answering questions and devising a murder plan simultaneously. Before I could even decide what to do, a searing pain exploded just behind my knee, sending me soaring up and out of my chair. I instantly knew that a vivacious bee had just stabbed its unyielding stinger through my tender skin. This is it, this is how it ends, attempted murder by bee, death by embarrassment.

“A bee!” I screamed and flew out of my chair. The principal stood up as well, his glasses sliding to the end of his nose balancing precariously.
“A bee! A bee stung me!” I ran around my chair, holding my throbbing knee and swatting at an invisible hive.

After several minutes of jumping and screaming I realized what a scene I had just created. I froze, my hands still in the air and turned back to the principal. I slowly walked back to my chair, smoothed my hair and sat back down, cringing slightly as my sore knee scratched against the rough leather at the bottom of the chair. A hot blush ran up my face and I smiled nervously. The principal finally sat, his mouth opening and closing before any sound came out at all. Finally he pushed his disheveled glasses back up his nose and looked down at the folder of questions in his hand. His voice slowly picked back up where we had left off like nothing had been interrupted.

“How would you handle the unexpected in the classroom?” A small smile tugged at his face and my embarrassment deepened.
After agonizing minutes of painfully answered questions the principal finally stood up, ending the interview. I stood, smiled smally and began limping slightly to the door, hoping that I would be able to leave and never have to be reminded of this day again. Before I could even turn around the principal smiled, the first I had seen, as he chuckled slightly.

“A bee huh? You certainly made this memorable! I also think that you are well qualified and I love the honesty in how I know you would handle the unexpected. Being teacher you have to deal with much more than bees. I would love to offer you the job here.”

I froze, taking my turn to stand in disbelief, mimicking the same look the principal had worn earlier.

“Thank you!” Without thinking I grabbed his hand and shook it vigorously, earning a small smile and laugh in return. Grabbing my knee I turned and hobbled to the door, with a confident smile on my face.