Walking into the small shop at the mall I scoped out some pretty clothes I wanted to look at when the interview was done. As I headed to the desk at the back of the room I felt really good about this place. Surrounded by pretty clothes and beautiful colors....this would be a pleasant job to have.
A very tall, very bald gentleman came from a back room to greet me. I followed him through a sparkly gold door, but that is where the sparkle ended. I found myself standing in a rather disorganized looking storage area with one small table that held a portable typewriter, two folding chairs and a trash can. The rest of the room was filled with boxes, hanging racks and stacks of bags imprinted with the store logo.
Mr. Baldman offered me one of the folding chairs at the rickety table, then handed me a tablet and pencil. "I'm going to dictate a letter to you. I need you to take it down, and then type it for me. I think I remember you said you take short hand, right?"
I once read that stress comes from the brain screaming "no way" and the lips murmuring "no problem". That's exactly the situation I found myself in.
"Of course," I said. "Oh my God, did I say that? No!! I didn't say that! ", my brain screamed.
He rattled off the contents of the letter from a paper he fished from his shirt pocket, and I feverishly took it down. "I have my own system" I said to him. This of course proves I will almost always lie when I'm drunk or when I'm embarrassed and cornered in the back room of a dress shop behind a sparkly door.
My intentions were to get the big stuff down and "remember" the small things he said. He finished, handed me typing paper and (groan!) CARBON PAPER. "Make a copy, and how long to you think you'll need?" In truth I was thinking, "It won't take long to find a back way out of here and I am gone", but again my mouth spoke without benefit of brain cells and said, "Oh, not long."
Mr. Baldman left through the decidedly unsparkly door, and after I determined there was no back door out of this mess, I worked to decipher my own squiggles, abbreviations and panicked scrawling. It's not bad enough I actually had to try and recreate what he had just said, but do it with CARBON PAPER so they could see how accurate a typist I was. Oh, the humanity!
That's when the light went on. A big old light bulb, just hanging over my head right there in that storage room. (figuratively, of course) If I had to make a carbon copy so did other applicants....and some of them might actually know what they're doing! I grabbed the trash can and searched for a nice, crispy piece of carbon paper. Viola!!! I held it up to the light and sure enough, there was the letter Mr. Baldman had just dictated to me.
Plagiarism is such an ugly word. I prefer to use the words "shamelessly copied" when I describe holding the carbon to the light as I typed with one hand and squinted to make out the words. It was a laborious process, but my determination to get out of there without disgracing myself was a powerful motivator."If you don't hear from me in a few days you can call to see where we stand in the process," he said. I knew once I was back in the safety of the mall traffic stream walking by this store I would never speak to Mr. Baldman again. I had not disgraced myself by having to admit I had no right to be in this interview. Lying yourself into an interview.....scary. Getting out without admitting you're an idiot.....priceless.
Finally the letter was complete. I gave the biggest sigh of relief I've ever experienced before or since, and I put the letter on the shaky table. Then I gathered myself up to my full five foot two inches, took a deep breath and hit that door.
Back on the sparkly side of the door, Mr. Baldman was waiting, looking at his watch. I suppose it takes more time to "shamelessly copy" someone else’s work than it does to actually know what you're doing and do it. But that didn't matter to me. The big, open front of that store was calling to me. I was walking out of here with my empty head held high......and I was never coming back.
I returned home a wiser woman. I really don't remember telling Mr. Baldman I could take shorthand, but the fact is I might have. I realized there would be no job harder than the one you talked yourself in to knowing you couldn't do it. I also learned that life could look very different depending on the side of the door you're on.
On the other hand, I also learned to keep my mouth shut and check the trash can before I confess to any major shortcoming. Sometime life is just plain funny......but life is good.
No comments:
Post a Comment