Dude. Where’s my plane?
(or "the Hitchhickers Guide to the Workforce)
Well it is once
again time for me to sit at my computer and give the world at large a look into
my strange life. Now as you all know I lost me job several weeks ago; although
I am still currently working at the same company as a consultant. You see all
those people with degrees that were going to take my place, well one lied on
the resume, one stole stuff from the office, and another couldn’t handle the
stress after 2 days… So I gladly offered my boss a large helping of humble pie;
I now have a commitment to another year at least should I choose to accept.
But unfortunately
for my old boss I put my resume out as soon as being fired and got a
response almost immediately for a Youth camp specializing in counseling of troubled
youth. And so after filling out the paper equivalent of 20 full grown trees; in
which the wanted to know stuff like “have you ever committed a felony?” (Not
that I know of, and the last I checked I’m the person filling the slot for evil
twin) “Do you take drugs?” (Like totally dude… Marijuana just like is sooo like
awesome….DUH!!!!! Wait I guess coffee could be considered a drug….) “Would you
be comfortable living with teens who have known violent tendencies?”( They
shall learn to p|-|34r my L337 warrior skillz) And so on ….
After the fun
forms I get to play 20 questions over the phone with an insane amount of people
asking the same questions over again. Then I had to go to the camp itself for a
2 day evaluation. The first was about an hour away; and though they said they
really liked me, they had about 2 times the amount of people for the position.
So they asked my if I would like to try out for another camp (What is this?
Some kind of National Lampoons Camping adventure?) so I of course said yes.
Then they told me that the other camp was in
Tampa, and that they would
pay for the flight.
So I leave for Pensacola
at 9:00 a.m. to catch the first flight
to Tampa, get to the terminal, and
stand there looking stupid (Have I mentioned that I’ve never flown before?) So
I finally figure out how to use the e-ticket thing, only to find out that the
plane has been canceled and that I will be on a flight 3 hours later. So I make
my way to call the person who has been my “Job counselor” for the camp; and the
phone takes my money and dies. It is at this point that I realize that I am
falling under the curse of Murphy. So I finally call my contact and she assures
me that she will make the necessary arrangements. She of course forgets.
This results in me
getting into Tampa at 5 with no one
to pick me up, and no way to contact anyone that could actually do anything.
But then I am faced with a new hazard of
airports… Foreigners. I hardly get off the plane when I am confronted my worried
looking European people getting off their flights basically running up to TV’s
and Newspaper racks; odd. Then one of them sees me (uh-oh) he runs up to me and
almost frantically asks “Pope?” Now fortunately I looked at the news before I
left, so I just smile, nod, and say Ratzinger, this makes them happy and they
leave. Then as I’m trying to call my contact a lady comes up to me a starts
rattling off something that sounds like Martian (Ummm lady, the answer is 42)
and after 2 min. of hand gestures I am made to understand she is trying to call
her daughter to pick her up; so I do my good deed for the day and call her
daughter, ands then watch as the lady gets picked up while I still stand
in the airport. At this time it is 9:00 p.m.
Finally the camp
pages me, and I am able to get a ride to the camp for my evaluation. Now I just
need to find out whither I got the job. So then I can start my own little
roadtrip. | 
