Gah!

So, I call up to schedule my interview.  And I'm cool as ice, man.  Totally professional.  Before the call, I ran about a million questions through my head, scenarios ranging from "hey, can you start right now?" to "why the Hell should I hire you, you de-flowered my daughter!"

The last one not being that likely, of course, but it's always good to be prepared. 

In the interviews that ran in my head, my prospective employer was a hockey fan, and we talked about the prospects of the canucks this year.  He was an avid fisherman, and I told stories about how I'm the worst fisherman in the world (but oh, how I love it).  He was a computer geek - hey, did I mention how I just beat the new Halo?  And so on, and so forth.

So, I call up to inteview.  And like I said, I'm cool as ice.  The receptionist seems nice, and I'm totally making a good impression.  Then, I get put forward to his voicemail, because he's at a meeting. 

For some reason, I start stuttering.  "Uh, hi, um, Al.  It's, uh, Dave Percival.  We talked on, um, tuesday about, uh, the position you offered.  And, um" and so on, and so forth. 

Answering machines.  The bane of my existence.

EDIT:  So, a few minutes after posting this (and, because it's post-dated, before it ever actually, y'know, posted) my interview was booked.  And I learn the place is a two minute walk away.  Booyah.