“I’ll hide in bushes beside your window,” said the first applicant. “I’ll watch you through the blinds.”
“Too unoriginal,” he replied. “Next.”
“I’ll get a job where you work and work out at your gym and attend your church and follow you to school,” said the second. “I’ll golf where you golf.”
“I don’t do any of those except work,” he told her. “Next.”
The third just stared at him.
“What are your qualifications?” he asked.
She continued to stare.
“Too creepy,” he decided. “Next.”
“I’ll paint my name in blood on your front door,” said the fourth. “I’ll smear bodily wastes on your car. You’ll wake up at three to find me keening in the fetal on your bedroom floor. I’ll make voodoo dolls. I’ll catch you out one night and stab you repeatedly.”
“Sorry, I don’t do stabbings,” he sighed. “Next.”
“I’ll never speak to you,” the fifth told him. “You’ll never see me again. I’ll spend my whole life fantasizing about you, but you’ll never know. I’ll write thousands of poems about you and check your social networks daily. Years from now I’ll kill myself in an especially dramatic way, citing you as the reason in my masterpiece of a suicide note.”
“Nice, but too distant,” he told her. “And too tragic. Next.”
“I’ll capture your attention with a compelling act,” said the sixth. “You’ll search until you find me. You’ll think me unusual, but also strangely alluring. I’ll live for you and you’ll fall for me, but I cannot say what the end result will be.”
“Sounds fun,” he said. “You’re hired.”
A week later, his new hire launched a targeted biological weapon which rapidly killed every human female except herself. Then, as she predicted, he began searching for her.
He wasn’t the only one searching.