"Some people want it all, but I don't want nothing at all!"
It was twenty to nine and still nobody came to usher me into the exam room.
"Is the examiner here already?"
Just as I was about to peer out of the door, the lady with big hair came and asked for my program notes.
"There you go." I handed to her two copies of my program notes.
The door suddenly opens and a tall man beckons me to enter.
I entered, shook his hand, didn't quite get his name, and quickly made my way to the piano seat, adjusted the height, placed my hands on the piano.
The keys of this piano is hard.
He told me to warm up. I did a couple of nonsense playing. Warming up wasn't going to calm my nerves so I asked if I could go ahead.
"Plis du" he said.
The biggest mishap was the second Scarlatti piece, which I replayed from the beginning - with permission, of course. He graciously allowed, thankfully.
I was so close to running over to his table to grab my books! Playing from memory does help with interpretation and focus, but not when you're close to a nervous breakdown.
Fast forward to the last part of the interview.
"Is there anything else you would like to add?" asks the examiner.
"Is this a trick question?" I thought to myself. "Excuse me?" was my response.
"Oh, is there anything else you would like to say that we did not discuss earlier?"
If I started yapping again, he'd get really technical like how he got with Scriabin which left me plummeting with such great speed that even Scriabin's theosophy inspired Mysterium won't be able to handle.
"I have nothing else to say." I smiled at him but refused eye contact.
"Have a nice day then." He started leading me to the door.
I noticed a long contraption which I realized was a recording device.
The door closed behind me.