Wednesday June 1st, 2011

The exercise:

Today we write about: the applicant.

Vancouver scored with 18 seconds left in the game to take the victory 1-0 tonight. They just keep on rolling!

Mine:

Sophie tried to keep her expression neutral as she regarded the man on the other side of her desk. It was days like this that she wished she'd never graduated from university.

"I see that under strengths," she said, double checking the resume in her hand, "you put: Can bench press 300 pounds."

"Totally." His reply was accompanied by an enthusiastic nodding of his head.

"While that's very impressive... I'm not entirely sure how it applies to this job."

"Well if, like, something super heavy falls on one of the kids, I could totally lift it off."

"Right." Sophie paused to collect her thoughts. And to stop herself from laughing. "Thanks so much for taking the time to come in and see us, but I just don't think you're quite what we're looking for. Good luck in your job search."

"Aw, come on! What makes you think I'd suck at being a day care worker?"

4 Comments:

Greg said...

Vancouver are definitely getting you your money's worth this season then! What are you going to do to celebrate if they win the Cup?
Miss Snippet tells me that she would definitely hire someone who could lift super-heavy things off her children as there are an abundance of such "accidents" on building sites.
Sophie's very well described, I could really picture her sitting there, trying to understand her applicant.

The applicant
"Who are you?" Dr. Septopus had been back at the Council of Nastiness's headquarters for three days and was still in a foul mood. Sylvestra had been putting extra-strength Prozac in all of his food and she was worried that it was actually working and that his mood was really even worse.
"I'm here for the job." The applicant was barely three foot six, possibly female, wearing an inflatable rubber ring with a yellow-ducky head, and had legs hairy enough to be a werewolf.
"What job?"
"I'm applying to be--" there was a rustle of paper pulled from somewhere beneath the ring-- "Dr. Septic-Puss?"
There was a pause, awkward for Sylvestra, puzzling for the applicant, and terrifying for the Green Lightbulb who was chained to the ceiling, while Dr. Septopus visibly forced himself to smile. Beaks weren't constructed for smiling, and bits of it chipped off.
"I think you'll find you need more legs," he said, his voice cracking with the effort of not shouting. "Perhaps you could come back when you've grown some more?"
"Oh..." said Sylvestra, unable to help herself, as the applicant grimaced, stretched horribly in the wrong way, and extruded a further ninety-eight legs on a startling long (and thankfully horizontal) torso.
"Dr. Cento-pus?" said the applicant hopefully.
Everyone looked at Dr. Septopus, who was looking suddenly thoughtful.
"Can you spit poison as well?" he asked, looking up at the Green Lightbulb.

morganna said...

Over-qualified, ought to be retired,
Still looking for a job,
Not ready to call it quits.

Heather said...

Marc- I have sat in many unfortunate interviews like that one. I hope she finds a worthy candidate.

Greg- Glad the doc made it home. Something was missing without him. I'd call it cohesion, but I think that may be giving too much credit.

Morganna- Reminds me of a friend who has been struggling to find something.
--------

Josephine's head dropped into her hands as the letter fell to the floor. Another rejection. How many, she didn't know. She'd stopped counting a couple of months ago. Having rubbed her forehead and eyes, she stood up and walked to the small patio behind her small rental. A neat stack of papers sat under a garden rock on the little bistro table. Two black pens lay next to the stack. All she was interested in was the mug of tea.

Picking it up, she wandered back into her home and to the fainting couch in front of the window. Legs curled under her and the warm ceramic nestled between her hands, she looked out over the quiet street. She sat silently until the tea cooled. Setting the mug down on the little side table, she picked up her phone and did the unthinkable.

"Hello Adam. " Josephine rubbed her forehead again. "I'll be there on Monday. Have the packet ready."

Adam clicked his tongue three times. "It's good to have you back on the team Jo." Then he hung up. Josephine didn't expect anything more from the conversation. Having made the call, she stood up to count the ammo and sharpen the blades. No reason to put off packing until the last minute.

Marc said...

Greg - I'm making no celebration plans until they actually win it. No need to jinx the poor guys.

Good to have Doc back where he belongs. The Prozac bit made me smile :)

Morganna - that could have been me. Thankfully I'm now able to say if and when I retire :)

Heather - great piece, but you've got me curious about something.

That stack of papers with the two black pens next to it - a detail for the sake of having detail, or are they there for a reason I'm missing?