How NOT to Get the Job

Hedge sent me an email yesterday telling me that she was sitting at her desk, looking at a man who was waiting for an interview with her company. Sitting beside him was his wife. On her lap was their dog. Who does that?? What on earth would have made this guy think that bringing his wife and dog on an interview would be a good thing.

You know, I can almost forgive the dog. Because although bringing your dog on the interview is clearly a sign of batshittery, there’s always the possibility of you actually being able to function in the job. But bringing your wife? This says to me that you may or may not be batshit crazy, but your wife is most definitely batshit crazy and the only thing worse than a batshit crazy employee is an employee with a batshit crazy wife. And a wife who feels it’s appropriate to accompany her husband right into the office on a job interview, dog in tow, is the poster child for the Batshit Crazy Wives Association of America.

I can tell you from experience (not that I have or have been a batshit crazy wife, but I have witnessed it), that a batshit crazy wife will result in the employee getting 238 calls a day, 197 of which will be dire emergencies like “I can’t find the coffee filters” or “How do you work the DVD player?” The other 41 will just be plain old batshit crazy conversation. Also – batshit crazy wives will result in the employee being late or absent often, because of emergencies such as the one I mentioned, as well as rampant hypochondria, paranoia, and the inability to function as an adult.

Needless to say, this man will not be getting the job. So, just in case you were on your way out the door for an interview and your wife or husband or dog thinks it’s a good idea to come along – it’s not.

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In other news, the boy has his crossover ceremony from cub scouts to boy scouts on Saturday and I know that I am going to cry and look like a blubbering fool in all the photos. I had a hard time deciding to let him join scouts because their policy on gays makes me want to vomit. But he really wanted to join, plus the fact that he’s not a huge athlete and the fact that there’s not a whole lot of options in a small town made me rethink it. The biggest deciding factor was a conversation I had with an openly gay woman who was a scout leader, who encouraged me to let him join.

I decided that the benefits of joining scouts were many, in that he would be learning outdoor skills, leadership and citizenship. I figured that I could teach him about acceptance and you never know – maybe someday he would be involved in helping to make a change in an offensive and ridiculous policy. In the meantime, he’s participated on activities that have honored and helped veterans, the mentally challenged, the hungry, the elderly and the environment. And that is always a good thing. In a few years, he’ll have to do his Eagle Scout project and since his won personal “cause” has always seemed to be homelessness and hunger, maybe he’ll have a chance to make a real impact. So while I still feel a little like a hypocrite for participating in an organization that has some views that I can’t get behind, I am also very proud of my son for sticking with it for five years and achieving what he has.

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And in super good happy news, Weenie came down this weekend and we worked like working dogs who work for 34,926 hours (OK, we actually drank lots of rum for some of thse hours, but still), and I am happy to announce that my kids finally have rooms. There are still a few odds and ends to be tied up, but thank Jeebus, we finally, finally, can all get a little space. It feel as good as you would expect it to feel when three people, a dog and a cat and crawl out of each your ass.
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