Wednesday, April 14, 2010

Cool Shades

Dear Mr. Applicant,

I know you are excited that we are hiring. I know that you want to come in and impress. And what I know most of all, we don't have to hire you.

When you come in wearing your leather jacket and sporting the shades that match the Cadillac Escalade you borrowed from your dad you look like a tool. We are not impressed. Take off the sunglasses. What? are you on drugs and don't want me to see your eyes? Are you too cool to remove your shades in a building with limited light exposure?

We were not overwhelmed with excitement upon your introduction to us as God's gift to metal fabrication. And, before I was able to get a word out of my mouth you ask "how much do you pay?" Easy to answer "to you, Nothing! Get out!" My goodness, how long have you been out of work? Are you trying this hard because you've failed at all other approaches? Or do you really think you're that good?

Here is a suggestion; go to your local bookstore and pick up a copy of "What Color is Your Parachute". It might help you, it might not.

By the way, I shredded your resume as you walked out the door.

Best regards,

Schmo, who will not be hiring you.

Monday, April 5, 2010

Throwing a Sideways Smile

Sometime ago at my previous Asylum my co-worker and I shared an awkward moment. Ron, from the sales department, stopped by our office to check on an order that was placed. Since we didn't have visitor chairs in our humble abode he chose to squat next to the desk while chatting with us.

After completing our transaction Ron stood and walked away. As he trotted down the hall I noticed a flash of white on his backside. I pointed this out to my co-worker who quickly looked and let out a burst of laughter.

"He's got a sideways pant smile going on!" Quickly slapping her hand over her face she looked at me with hand on mouth and eyes as big as saucers.

"You're going to tell me that I need to go tell him his pants are split, aren't you?" She nodded still holding in the laughter.

"But he was squatting at your desk!" I protested.

"He needs to hear it from a man." She said.

"But..." I was going to continue my protest.

"...from a man!" she insisted.

"Alriiight!"

I mustered up some courage and put on the straightest face I could considering I was approaching a man with pants split from here to there. Down the hall I went rehearsing my speech in my head.

Knock. "Hey Ron."

"What's up Schmo?"

"Uh, your, um, pants... yah, well we noticed that they were... welll... they are split." Phew! Got it out without busting up.

Ron reached around and felt. "SH!T, I have a meeting in 1/2 hour."

"I thought you should know." I rushed away.

I returned to my office only to be barraged by others who had been let in on the chuckle. I told them I did my duty and that co-worker owed me one.

The impromptu meeting in our office continued so I took advantage of the distraction to go use the restroom. As I entered I heard a familiar noise but a strange on for a restroom. Ka-Chunk! Ka-Chunk! Ka-Chunk! The sound of a stapler hard at work.

"Ron, is that you."

"Yes! I told you I have a meeting. This is all I could think to do."

"Your a frick'n MacGyver! Good luck with the meeting."

He walked with an odd step the rest of that day, but he had no sideways pant smile for us the rest of it.