Ketchup

“Tell us something special about you” (compulsory essay question)

I‘d spent four minutes and thirteen seconds staring at the application and the words no longer made sense. I could lie about it, say I loved to dance or travel. But I really wanted them to accept me, so I decided to tell the truth. Which wasn’t so hard when it was less than a metre away from me.

The truth was ketchup. Something special about me? I’m the girl who puts ketchup on everything. There’s a bottle of ketchup and five assorted sachets in my bag right now. I put ketchup on fries, ketchup on sandwiches, rice, apples, and tomatoes. I can walk into restaurants and confidently say I’ve eaten every item on the menu with ketchup on it. My socks smell of ketchup and there’s probably hints of it in my hair right now. Those faint red stains on my car keys? Ketchup. Vampire eating breakfast in the dead of the night? Me eating ketchup. What’s the bathtub filled with? Ketchup. Why won’t the car start and what’s that in the diesel tank? Ketchup. First rainfall of the season, why is everybody indoors? And what’s that falling from the sky? Ketchup. That wonderful warm feeling in my soul, my heart beating faster and my nerves fluttering about. This could be love, but it was ketchup. Cut my finger while chopping onions. That looks like so much blood, do I call the doctor? Unnecessary, ketchup.

I got rejected, apparently there was some ketchup on my application.


 

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