Wearing a diaper to a job interview is kind of unusual. I get that. I keep it hidden from the interviewer; easy in these times of video interviews, nothing below the waist visible on camera. Even if something goes wrong, the camera slips or I have to stand up, my dress hides it anyway.
Why do it? It’s relaxing, comfortable and weirdly by being a distraction stops me getting distracted by other things, which means I focus more on the interviewer. Usually a few minutes in I’ve forgotten I’m even wearing one.
Of course, that only works if it’s clean and dry. So I planned ahead today, had a drink, went shopping, came home, made sure I used the toilet even though I didn’t feel the need, made coffee. Well under two hours to the interview, a freshly emptied bladder, time to get properly padded up.
Today the plan went wrong. Still 40 minutes to the interview and my bladder suggested some quick relief. I ignored it; I read somewhere that your thinking is a little sharper with a full bladder, the urgent signals from your body making your brain work more effectively, try and complete its current task so that you can go and seek relief. Sure, I may start needing to go mid interview but nothing I can’t hold, no worse a distraction than if I didn’t have the diaper on.
I did my make-up, subtle and professional, changed into my dress, a hidden onesie holding my diaper securely in place beneath, skipped the nylons and shoes. Nobody would see my legs anyway. Just a few minutes to go and… my bladder started screaming at me. I’d been drinking more water than normal, needing to go frequently, so this maybe shouldn’t have been a surprise but this was urgent, something I couldn’t hold for more than a few minutes. The sort of pressure that sharpens your mind but also gives it a singular focus: relieve your bladder.
Well, wearing a diaper the choice is obvious, isn’t it. Except I didn’t have time to change before the interview started. Could I sit through 40 minutes of selling my professional skills while wearing a wet diaper? Did I want to? Could I ignore the discomfort and stay dry for that long? I should be sensible, take off the diaper, use the toilet, but I didn’t want to. I hadn’t put on a diaper just to take it off again, clean and unused, before I’d even had the interview.
I spent too long agonising over the choices, my calendar told me it was time to join the interview. Now the choices were different, starker. Sit there in pain for 40 minutes, trying to concentrate, or use my diaper while talking.
Then the coffee’s other effect made itself known. Strong black coffee gives me just a few minutes warning that it’s finished cleansing my system and this was the first coffee I’d had for four days. My system didn’t need a cleanse but the coffee didn’t know that, worked its magic, left me squeezing tight to avoid an accident.
Not that it would matter. That’s what diapers are for. But as I looked into camera, said the right things to someone that might be my future boss, it did matter. Forty minutes to try and avoid utterly debasing myself in front of them, even though I’d likely fail the interview from the distraction. Or just accept that I wear diapers for good reason, and hope they don’t notice.
I smiled and spoke into the microphone, “Could I…”