- Tick...Tick...Tick
- 06-20-06
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- My parents will soon be
celebrating their 36th anniversary, and they decided that this was a good reason
to take an extended trip away from home…which will be their first in
almost 36 years.
After 36 years of marriage, they decided that they were going to
start traveling more and this would be the first of many exotic places
that they would venture to. So an itinerary was formed and an exotic
destination was chosen. Williamsport. Not the Bahamas. Not Italy. But
Williamsport. The town which proudly claims to be the 19th century
lumber capital of the world. Sadly, this is all the town can
realistically brag about.
My parents started off early Thursday morning. I wasn’t expecting to
hear from them again until Sunday night, which is when they were
scheduled to return. To my surprise, however, I got a call from my mother
later that same day.
“Well,” she told me once I had picked up the phone, “the trip is
over!”
“What happened, mom? Why did you and dad leave so soon?”
“We were driving along on Route 70,” she explained, “when all of a
sudden the car lost all power and started smoking! Your father pulled
over to the side of the road, we called AAA, and then had to wait for
over an hour for a tow truck!”
“Well,” she continued, “as you can imagine, these trucks were speeding
by us going very fast, and there was barely any shoulder, so your
father and I felt it was best to cross the highway, hop over the
median strip, and wait on the opposite side of the road.”
“So you hopped over the median strip?” I asked, having a hard time
imagining my mother running across a busy highway, leaping over the
center divider, and racing to safety on the other side.
“Heavens no!” she exclaimed. “It was too high, so instead I crawled
underneath it. But, later that night my head was itchy, and when I
scratched it I found a tick! Can you believe it!? An actual tick! I
was mortified! Obviously, it must have dropped on my head when I was
crawling under the road divider.”
“Obviously,” I said.
“Don’t be coy,” she scolded. “Anyway, I got it out and your father
tried to kill it…I’m not sure if you know this, but those little
buggers are very hard to kill. Well, he finally crushed it and stuck
it in a Ziplock bag and put it in the freezer.”
“Mom,” I asked, “why in the world did dad stick a dead tick in the
freezer?”
“Because, I looked up ticks on the internet and read that they can
cause Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever. Your dad figured that it would be
a good idea to keep the tick, just in case I got sick...the
doctors might need it to develop some type of antidote for me.”
“Mom, I really don’t think it’s necessary to keep the tick.”
“It’s better to be safe then sorry,” she reasoned. “But I just wanted you to
know that it’s in a bag next to the yogurt. I just don’t want you to
accidentally eat it by mistake.”
Which, I’m sure, was very thoughtful on some level. Though I can’t
imagine what food she thinks I would mistake a tick for. A midget
raisin, perhaps?
“I’m just glad that you and dad are both safe,” I said. “And I’m sorry
that your trip turned out to be such a disaster. Did you two
reschedule it?”
“No,” she told me, “the mechanic called and told us that the car was
going to end up costing about $2000, so we cancelled the reservation.
The trip money has now become the repair money. But that’s okay,
really. We’re both perfectly happy just to stay home.”
Because when you get right down to it, a $2000 car repair bill and a
Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever scare are a small price to pay to find
that you’re content staying in your own little corner of the world.
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- They Just Don't Make
Thieves Like They Used To
- 06-12-06
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- Today, for the first time
in over three months, I had to wake up early and head off to work. An
actual job. For which I’ll receive an actual paycheck. This meant that
yesterday was the last day that I could sleep in with unabashed
recklessness. I had every intention of shamelessly taking advantage of
this.
Though my plan was foiled when a car alarm began screeching from the parking lot of my
apartment building early that morning.
Soon after, two other car alarms joined the chorus…from
cars that I can only suppose felt left out and wanted to join in the
fun. For the next several minutes, this trio of alarmingness created a
cacophony of car chaos.
I feebly attempted to bury my head beneath the pillows, but to no
avail. The automobile symphony was simply too loud to ignore. Besides,
by this point I was wide awake.
Truth be told, nobody even blinks anymore when a car alarm goes off.
When they were first invented years ago, I’m sure that people stopped,
ran to the scene, and chased the car thief off long before the vehicle
was stolen. But nowadays, nobody cares...so frequent are the false alarms
that these alarms are always alarming us about. I wish that
the auto manufacturers would do away with these things altogether.
Perhaps it was simply a strange atmospheric event that caused these
alarms to go off. But, in the event that it was a really incompetent
burglar, I wish that he would have shown a bit more persistence.
Hop in the car and drive away with the alarm blaring instead of
setting off three and then fleeing the scene. What ever happened to
pride in a job well done?
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- Doomsday
- 06-09-06
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- There I sat, crouched and
cowering, in the corner of my apartment earlier this week. Because of
all the evil-tinged omens surrounding the whole 06-06-06 date, I felt
it best to stay as inconspicuous as possible. And while I don’t
particularly view myself as a superstitious person, I generally feel
that rather than risk any bad mojo from happening, I’ll pretend to
follow along…just in case.
So when the phone suddenly rang, I carefully sidled
over from my seat in the corner and contemplated whether I should
answer. On the one hand, I thought, this call might a long lost uncle
in desperate search of an heir to leave his fortune to, a fortune that
would come in quite handy due to my current state of finances. Yet, on
the other hand, the call might be from Satan himself, claiming my soul
for an eternity of hellfire and torture.
In the end, the hopes…however small…of money won out and I answered.
To my surprise, the call turned out to be a job offer. And while I
can’t help but think that getting a job on a day regarded as ‘evil’
can be a good thing, I accepted…once again, money winning out over
potential cosmic harm to my soul.
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- Though, in an attempt to ward off bad
spirits, immediately after accepting I knocked on wood, scrubbed
myself in garlic (which is generally used to ward off vampires, I
know, but you never know when one will pop up), and danced naked
inside a protective circle of salt which I poured on my living room
floor. I had seen the circle of salt thing on Buffy the Vampire
Slayer, thus establishing legitimacy. The dancing was an improvisation
on my part…but seemed appropriate considering the circumstances.
All of which is how I find myself employed and due to
start on Monday. Which happened not a moment too soon. Because as I
danced in my protective circle of salt, I inadvertently stepped on a
carpet tack…clearly confirming that evil things did befall me on that
day. With any luck, though, my health insurance will kick in before my foot gets infected and needs to be
amputated.
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- Signs That You Won't Be
Getting the Job
- 06-03-06
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- Three months ago, I had an
interview. Working on the assumption that persistence pays off in job
hunting, I began a bi-weekly routine of calling this company to find
out where they were in the hiring process.
I had Gina's number, the HR person who had interviewed me, and I
was diligent in my communication efforts with her. Surely, I thought,
this would show my dedication and desire to secure a position with
them.
The first week I called and left a message on her voice mail. Two
days later, she called back to inform me that they were still
interviewing candidates. The second week of my ‘persistence pays-off
plan’, I left her another message. Four days after this
call, she sent me an email explaining that no further developments had
arisen concerning the position and that she would contact me when
there was something new.
This didn’t discourage me though, and I placed a third call two weeks
later. This time, however, I never heard back from her. No email. No
phone call. So the very next week, I left another message and followed
this with an email. Again, nothing.
By this point, I knew that I wasn’t getting the job and the company
knew that I wasn’t getting the job. But I continued my calls because I
wanted them to know that I knew I wasn’t getting
the job. And, at the very least, someone there was going to tell me
‘you won’t be getting this job’.
Granted, this process amounts to nothing more than a colossal waste of
time. But seeing that I’m unemployed, I have nothing but time to
waste.
Finally, after countless messages and emails, I opted for a different
approach and called the main number and asked to speak with Gina.
“I’m sorry sir,” the receptionist told me, “Gina is no longer employed
here. Let me connect you with her replacement.”
Gina, my inside connection, was gone. All that work and history I had
built to show her just how much I wanted the job was all for nothing.
But not to worry, I thought. Here’s a new HR person to begin anew
with. A clean slate…I’ll just show her the same desire and commitment
that I showed Gina.
Soon after, I was pleading my case to the ‘new’ Gina. I explained the
interview, and the resume I sent in, and my numerous conversations
with Gina.
I was put on hold while she checked her files, and a minute later she
was back. “I’m sorry, but we have no record of you at all. I couldn’t
find your resume nor could I find any notes or indication that you
ever came in for an interview. Unfortunately, we have moved ahead in
the process and have narrowed the pool down to three candidates, so
you won’t be considered for this position. But if you’d like to email
me your resume, I’ll be sure to keep it on file for six months.”
So I was wrong in thinking that the company knew I wouldn’t be getting
the job. As it turned out, the company didn’t even know who I was.
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