My newly-rented small apartment was far away from the centre of London and it was becoming essential for me to find a job, so finally I spent a whole morning getting to town and putting my name down to be considered by London Transport for a job on the underground. They were looking for guards, not drivers. This suited me. I couldn’t drive a car but thought that I could probably guard a train, and perhaps continue to write my poems between stations. The writers Keats and Chekhov had been doctors. T.S. Eliot had worked in a bank and Wallace Stevens for an insurance company. I’d be a subway guard. I could see myself being cheerful, useful, a good man in a crisis. Obviously I’d be overqualified but I was willing to forget about that in return for a steady income and travel privileges — those being particularly welcome to someone living a long way from the city centre.
The next day I sat down, with almost a hundred other candidates, for the intelligence test. I must have done all right because after about half an hour’s wait I was sent into another room for a psychological test. This time there were only about fifty candidates. The interviewer sat at a desk. Candidates were signaled forward to occupy the seat opposite him when the previous occupant had been dismissed, after a greater or shorter time. Obviously the long interviews were the more successful ones. Some of the interviews were as short as five minutes. Mine was the only one that lasted a minute and a half.
I can remember the questions now: “Why did you leave your last job?” “Why did you leave your job before that?” “And the one before that?” I can’t recall my answers, except that they were short at first and grew progressively shorter. His closing statement, I thought, revealed (揭示) a lack of sensitivity which helped to explain why as a psychologist, he had risen no higher than the underground railway. “You’ve failed the psychological test and we are unable to offer you a position.”
Failing to get that job was my low point. Or so I thought, believing that the work was easy. Actually, such jobs — being a postman is another one I still desire — demand exactly the sort of elementary yet responsible awareness that the habitual dreamer is least qualified to give. But I was still far short of full self-understanding. I was also short of cash.
The writer applied for the job chiefly because _________.
A.he wanted to work in the centre of London |
B.he could no longer afford to live without one |
C.he was not interested in any other available job |
D.he had received some suitable training |
The writer thought he was overqualified for the job because _________.
A.he often traveled underground |
B.he had written many poems |
C.he could deal with difficult situations |
D.he had worked in a company |
The length of his interview meant that _________.
A.he was not going to be offered the job |
B.he had not done well in the intelligence test |
C.he did not like the interviewer at all |
D.he had little work experience to talk about |
What does the writer realize now that he did not realize then?
A.How unpleasant ordinary jobs can be. |
B.How difficult it is to be a poet. |
C.How unsuitable he was for the job. |
D.How badly he did in the interview. |
What’s the writer’s opinion of the psychologist?
A.He was very aggressive. |
B.He was unhappy with his job. |
C.He was quite inefficient. |
D.He was rather unsympathetic. |