From what I gathered, this is the last batch for training. But coming in on the third day doesn’t put me in a homey position with the others who came on board the same time.
Walking inside the room, I caught a whiff of the amity the people have formed and I ambled inside the lion’s den feeling alone and vulnerable. Now I understand what they mean when they say surrounded by hordse but deserted. Eyes on me, I gave a smile; not for friendship but for false comfort and flashing once teeth show that I am ready to exchange blows.
Two days, yes, two days is enough to leave you far behind. Training for United Airlines is demanding; it will measure your ability to soak in every information provided in the speed of light. The guide has the ability to cram everything in a jostle of fast talks, so: Your hands and eyes must stay coordinated in drills and your ears need to give wide berth to pass immense information to your head. With the heavy air, everyone is devised to keep up or be consumed by the void left by their inability to draw level. I on the other hand, before stepping in, brought every ounce of attentiveness and gusto I can summon to survive and catch up. But obstacles have a nice way of finding you.
Unlike the ones who came in the first day, I am left to watch them warily as they amble along the exercises. I can see that they, even with complete notes, two days of training under their belt and their access to the system – which is the whole nine yards of the knowledge base – is still left struggling to pull through. What more for a newbie like me? I, who was called hastily without proper equipment is rammed into the roaring current. What chance do I have to survive?
I am continuing. This is a good chance for me to prove that I am still one sharp tool. This might just be a load of false bravado but I have to attempt the leap. I know this fish won’t need tattoos or Pugnac to break free. I will rise above this.