Application for the Worst Job - A Five Minute (or more) Freewrite
Troy E. Boling was remarkably unremarkable. He was neither handsome nor plain, neither dull nor witty. Brown of hair and eye, white of skin and tooth, though he never showed too many when he smiled, nor smiled overly much, nor too little. Troy, at some 35 years of age could have been 10 years younger or older, he simply left little impression of age or permanence.
People would often forget he was present during social gatherings, and then miss him slightly when he wasn't, if they could recall his name.
Troy liked a simple, sensible shoe, a grey sweater he, owned six, and a casual ballcap, no logos thank you very much!
Troy worked as an insurance actuary, a quiet job, that let him work from home most days - which suited Troy just fine. An email from a recruiter, landed in Troy's inbox one Thursday evening and caught his eye: "Subjects Wanted for Sensory Deprivation Experiments". Clicking through Troy saw the applications for the experiment would be collected in person at the local University campus this coming Saturday morning, at 8:00 AM. Troy had no plans this weekend. Troy's two friends, his only friends, an older couple who tried to help him socialize a bit - were on vacation in Barcelona, leaving his calendar wide open.
"Mhhhmm" Troy remarked to himself. "A man could do a good bit of thinking in those sensory deprivation tanks."
Saturday morning came as most mornings do, slightly after the previous night. Troy ate a bit of toast with orange marmalade and a single cup of coffee. After a washup and hair comb, Troy dressed smartly in some tweed trousers, his second favorite of the six grey sweaters, wrapped a beige scarf around his neck - and set out on foot for the University. He arrived at the laboratory building 10 minutes shy of 8:00 AM and was greeted by a portly security guard who directed him down the hall and to the last door on the left.
Troy knocked on the door softly and heard "Come in, it's open." Stepping through the door Troy, saw a young ginger-haired lady, with a sticker-tag hand marked with the name "Sara" (no-h), affixed to the left breast of her sweater. Sara smiled at Troy - who noted her sweater was a mess of blues and greens, woven from some hodgepodge artisanal yarns. "You're here to apply for the sensory deprivation experiments?" she asked.
"Yes," said Tony, as Sara handed him a clipboard and a pen. Tony took a seat - and filled out the application - age, weight, hobbies, no disease or maladies, no particular phobias, though from side-eyed glances Sara's sweater was perhaps a bit off-putting, if not rising to the level of a phobia - perhaps a minor annoyance. Finishing the application he passed the clipboard back to Sara, who reviewed it with a "splendid, and remarkably unremarkable, would you like to proceed to the next phase of the application? It's a simple test - we have you sent in a dark, sound-proofed room for an hour while we record your pulse, heart rate, and brainwaves."
"Oh yes, I could do a bit of thinking", Tony replied.
Sara led him to a windowless room perhaps six feet by six feet, it was little more with than a sound booth, with a comfortable chair, and a solid door. Dull dark acoustical tiles lined the walls and ceiling, and a thick grey carpet covered the floor. Sara seated Tony and hooked a monitor to his wrist and two sticky patches to his temples, for monitoring his brain waves she explained. Sara pointed to a cord to Tony's right "This test runs for an hour - for any reason if you feel uncomfortable you can pull the cord - the light will come on, and I'll come and open the door. When I close the door the light will go off - try to sit quietly and relax while we monitor your vitals. Any questions before we begin?" Sara asked.
"None thank you, I'm ready," said Tony sitting back into the chair.
Sara nodded and stepped through the door. It closed with a muffled click, and the light switched off.
It was quiet.
It was dark.