2002-03-29 - 1:52 a.m.

1) I was sitting at my kitchen table, finishing off The Beach (the novel, mind you), when I noticed something out of the corner of my eye.

All of a synapse fire, I was standing up, and with a broom in my hand, and staring at my refrigerator.

I had cornered a mouse.

I debated what exactly to do. There was no doubt that I would kill the mouse if I could, but experience conveniently dictated that I wouldn't.

But how to kill it? Mice are pretty friggin' fast, and there were two ways it could go, and I'm just one person.

Plus, maybe it had escaped.

I decided to wait, lulling the mouse into a false sense of security. Maybe it would scamper out, thinking that the coast was clear.

I stood still for a couple of minutes.

Then I realized that mice don't think like people, and that it wasn't likely to scamper away with the arrogance of one leaving a McDonald's because the line was too long.

That mouse wasn't going anywhere.

Now, one might be appalled at my desire to kill this mouse. I'd like to offer three things in my defense--the ancestral adrenaline basically took over, mice are about 100 times worse than homeless people in terms of spreading disease, and the Girlfriend is ridiculously afraid of mice, which makes three.

So. I knew the mouse was hiding underneath the 'fridge.

It's an old fridge with a screen at the bottom that you can easily lift up. Pretty gross under there. I grabbed a flashlight and probed underneath.

I didn't spot it at first, 'cause it was so still. But then I did see it.

It was beautiful. And scared. Brown and even cuddly, with eyes like the button eyes on stuffed animals.

Before I did anything, I came up with a deliberately futile plan.

I probed under the fridge with my broomstick, trying to catch it by the tail.

Didn't work, and it scurried to the right. Almost got it with the straw end of my broom. The mouse doubled back underneath the fridge, hiding.

Smart friggin' mouse. It found a place that I didn't wanna touch, in fear of electrocuting myself. It had also learned where not to hide.

I smoked it out again, and it scampered under the stove--the magic mouse tunnel.

It was gone, and I was glad, hoping that it would go back to its buddies and warn them to never return. I was glad that I didn't have to kill it.

2) Fixed the toilet. It wasn't broken--it just sucked. It made these gurgline noises all the time, and I knew how to fix it, but I just didn't feel like doing it.

There's a razor blade in the tank. Not a BIC razor or anything like that, but a real razor blade like the one Bob Geldof frees from his shaver in Pink Floyd: The Wall so that he can shave his entire body in order to become Creepy Nazi Pink Roger Waters.

So I don't wanna stick my hand in that tetanus-filled water, and then cut myself somehow.

It's not like the landlord is going to do anything about it.

I solved the problem a few times before, but the last makeshift fix had rotted away, and I had to do it again.

So I fixed it, and by doing so, I made America strong.

3) Work story. Skip if you wanna.

Radish has been pulling some wacky shit, but I've been trying to ignore it all, cause I feel bad for her and want to try to make friends with her. Not going out for drinks friends, but just allies, I guess.

Cause I know what it's like to not try to scream for help.

But she makes it so hard.

We've been trying to hire new interviewers lately, and we've gotten way more psychos than usual, which wouldn't be a problem, except that we really haven't gotten many good applicants.

I'm really good at hiring and training. And I have the track record to prove it. So everyone at the Big Company agreed to let me do the hiring and training, which is really, really, really really stressful, but nothing compared to the impossibility of dealing for a lifetime with someone else's rash decision that someone was "nice" because "they wore a suit."

Problem is, C. (from work) and I aren't in from 9:00 to 1:00, and that's the only time that some folks can come in.

And, as always when we're hiring peeps, it's an emergency and we're under pressure to get folks in as soon as possible.

Over the last two weeks, I've turned away some pretty qualified people, just because I know that they'd be problems two weeks from now, or six months from now, and I just don't want to deal with them.

The only opportunity I have to stop jackasses from causing me problems is the interview, where I either hire them or turn them away.

But Radish went behind everyone's backs and did some wacky hiring and training on her own, and it was unorthodox and not worth getting into here, besides the fact that it has become obvious that she can't hire and train.

Now, it's around 4:30, and I'm getting ready for my training session at 6:00, and I get a call.

Hey, yo, I got my brotha in the car, and he like missed his appoinmin' yesterday? Cause we like got into a car accident yesterday. So we're on our way to come in at like 5:30. A'ight?

No, I say, I have a training session tonight, and I need that space for the session. Also, we don't take applicants after 4:30.

But he'll just take like two minits, yo! You can just intaview him, and then if you like him, you can put him into your trainin' session!

OK, I say to myself, I don't hire people all the time. Here's a dude that re-scheduled and then missed his appointment, and now here's his sister driving him down for his third chance. I'm super busy, and can't deal with all this shit, but all I really gotta do is not hire him, and everybody leaves satisfied.

Fine, bring him in at 5:30, and I'll give him an interview..

It's 6:00 now, and I have three people scheduled for this training session, and one had actually shown up a half-hour early. I gave her the Policies and Procedures manual to peruse. Another kid just arrived. The other, Radish's hire, has yet to show.

Then, all of a sudden, I'm sitting at my desk, changing quotas, and three people come running at me, hurricane-style.

I've been through this scenario before. Either

a) someone somehow gets word that there's an easy job to be had, and they just somehow find me at my desk, and then I give 'em an interview

b) someone somehow scheduled several people for a training session and didn't tell me, making me look like an unprepared idiot in front of brand new employees that I have to manage,

c) someone scheduled someone for an interview and didn't tell me, and then that person brought along two of their friends, so that they would all have someone to talk to in order to make the job more bearable,

or

d) something went wrong

Excluding choice b, all of the above.

Nothing is worse than all of the above.

As it turns out, the Radish hire, who was scheduled for that 6:00 training session, was the person who had called me. She wanted to sneak her "brother" in. (Maybe he was her brother--he probably was, but of course I have no way of knowing.)

Very clever.

I did my best to lead the two "applicants" she had brought to the waiting area, with the dreadful realization that I had a training session to start right now, and that this chick was part of it.

He's wit' me, she said with way too much confidence, I recommindid heam.

Mindful of the fact that there's actually work to be done, I put C. (from work) in charge of not hiring the two applicants, and went to pay attention to the matter at hand--the three people who were to be trained.

The crackhead (she was stoned on something, believe me) chick that was supposed to be trained was screaming at the applicant who had rescheduled and who had then missed his appointment

Hurry up! If you finish, you can get trained right now!

Dude!

I went back to C. (from work), to discuss the events, and actually started punching my chair.

I could go into why, but let's just say that it would take way too long, and that you empathize with my situation. OK?

I actually did the count to ten thing. After all, I'm the first real impression that these people will have of the Big Company, and I had to let off some steam.

So the two applicants are in C. (from work)'s hands, at the expense of actually running the place, and here it is, time for my training session.

It's 6:06, and I'm in the Conference Room, and there's just one kid there. The kid I hired.

Dude, you just missed 'em. They went out for a smoke.

Which sucks. Apparently, the crackhead chick that Radish had hired had lulled the chick that the Irish Boss had hired into a smoke break.

I realized why. If the crackhead chick stalled my training session long enough, then maybe I would have had enough time to interviewe her "brother," and of course hire him, and then he could sneak into the 6:00 session.

Bullshit.

Fucking bullshit.

And let's not forget the fact that while her "brother" was interviewing with C. (from work), there was also some dude that she had brought in, who interrupted my momentary solace with his hastily scrawled application.

With much enthusiasm, he hurtled the application towards me, knowing my hands were full.

Smoke break!, he said, and that was the last time I ever saw him.

And here I am. We need people. I've turned away way more qualified applicants on oh-so-many grounds. And here are these unprofessional jackasses running amok before they're even trained OR HIRED!

It's 6:15 now, and I'm shaking. Gotta take control. Still gotta be professional.

Head into the Conference Room (training room), apologize to the kid I hired, who has been patiently siting there, waiting to be trained.

Make some small talk for a few minutes, and apologize again, of course.

By now, I was fuming. I didn't want this chick working at the Big Company. This was a bad position to be in. Visions of having to spend half my time keeping an eye on the crackhead chick and the other half worrying about what she was up to danced through my head. She'd distract everybody, and nobody would get any work done. She'd come and go as she pleased, and flaunt it, encouraging the other interviewers to step out of line. Zero respect.

In strolls the girl who had shown up a half hour early. Yeah, she had snuck out for a butt without asking permission, but it was a chaotic scene, and she had thought that I said that it was OK to leave, so I wasn't really upset with her.

So I closed the door, and told my two new interviewers that the training session began right now.

In strolled the crackhead chick.

Leisurely.

Like a chick crossing an intersection, sauntering by a stopped car, with the light in the driver's favor, slowing the pace, and enjoying the moment.

My hands were purple and shaking, and I couldn't make them stop. My face was bright red. Even though I knew I was in the right, and clear cut right at that, I was not looking forward to the confrontation.

But I was in control. I will NOT let someone work here, if I can stop it, who will take advantage of everything and not be at all productive. I am NOT going to find myself getting yelled at for productivity issues, in the very same room in which I "trained" this person.

Um, I've noticed the time on the, um, clock, is 6:15. The training session was scheduled for 6:00, and I've been sitting here for fifteen minutes, waiting for you to show up.

I pointed at the dude I hired, and said

This person has been sitting here for fifteen minutes, waiting for this thing to start, and, um, I've been here, waiting for fifteen minutes, too. I've already started this training session, and you can just call to re-schedule a new one.

Of course, this means that there will be no further training session for the crackhead, but I'm not about to go all out in front of random people who (again) are seeing how things work at the Big Company for the first time.

Really?

Yes.

She collected all of the documents I had laid out for the training session.

Should I take these with me?

I grabbed them from her.

No.

I then had to deal with a two and a half hour training session. And not being able to manage things outside of the small world of that session. And things on the floor were bad. And it�s my ass tomorrow. And it was a terrible training session.

We are a symbol or America's resilience and strength. The People are the symbol and strength of America.

When the session was over, the one girl commented about how the crackhead chick "blew it." I nodded my head. The other dude grinned and said, Imagine fucking up royally and getting fired not only on the first day of your new job, but the first MINUTE! I had to laugh.