play-now-my-lord:

i go to the job interview. there is a square table set out with a dish of assorted unwrapped candies, and an HR manager sitting on one chair facing the door. if i were a cis woman i would sit across from him, whereas if i was a cis man i would sit next to him. in either case i would take one piece of candy and slip it into my pocket for later. the HR manager rises to shake my hand. there are a million strategies to make a good impression on an interviewer with the correct handshake, but this isn’t my first rodeo.

ignoring his hand, i plunge my hand into the bowl of candy and deftly grab a handful, then begin feeding the HR manager. initially he’s agitated by my approach but i calm him down with my gentle demeanor. pretty soon he’s eating candy straight out of my hand. good sign. when he sits down i brush off his lap with a handkerchief (shows respect for his clothes by not using a bare hand, shows concern for cleanliness and thorough nature to clean off his lap).

i sit directly on his lap, and he winces in pain from my weight. “easy there, big fella. i’m not gonna hurt you.” i pat him on the head and reach into my pocket. i pull out a stick of wintergreen gum. the scent and flavor of the wintergreen calm his wild spirit and give me free rein to reach into the pocket of his trousers. “you won’t be needing this anymore,” i say, placing his wallet just beyond his arm’s reach on the table. “that life is behind you.”

carefully, i take his shoes. this is the hard part - even taking loafers off of an HR manager can startle them, make them bolt. but he trusts me. i put his shoes on my feet. they fit perfectly. i’m now ready to take his jacket and work badge and release him into the wild. he’ll be disoriented at first, but within a few months, he’ll rehabituate to the natural environment, maybe even find a mate and start a family. i’ll be a valued employee at my new job by then.

don’t worry about his clothes and wallet. he’ll find new ones, they always do. nature provides for all creatures.