Interviews, Driving Lessons, and Bizarre Plans

Disclaimer: This post is from the archives, and may not represent the current views of the author. It also may not be at all interesting to read. Continue at your own peril!

Well, yesterday was mildly interesting. The interview at Sears went pretty well, I thought. I just have no idea if I have a chance of getting hired. The guy interviewing me seemed to be interested; however, he wasn’t in charge of hiring in the right department. Since the lady who had called was on vacation and left his extension on her voicemail message, I had called him to see if he could help. However, this lady was in charge of the sales associate positions, and he was in charge of sales support. So, he told me he’d forward it on to the people in the sales associate department – that’s not an encouraging statement, but it was all I could really do. I assume that since he had decided to set up an interview with me that he won’t just hand them my resume and application and say nothing, but rather tell them what he thought of me as well. And as I said before, he seemed interested. So it’s not a total loss or anything, it’s just completely uncertain what the outcome will be. It’s in God’s hands, though.

After the interview, I headed over to Central and went upstairs. Everyone was in the middle of prayer, so I slipped in as quietly as I could and just sat down on the couch. After they were finished, they asked me how the interview went and such, and we had a jolly good time talking about jobs and stuff – the one thing I could do without talking about for a few millenia. It’s been on my mind, or at least in the back of it, for the entire summer, and I just want to hurry up and get a job before I explode from the information overload. But anyways, eventually, we headed over to Wendy’s and then to Michelle’s house to go swimming. That’s where the real excitement began.

In total, I think only three or four people actually had bathing suits. Zeth was in the pool and complaining about how cold it was, and people were quietly discussing how to best push Josh into the pool, since he was near the edge. Of course, nobody really wanted to take on the task, because they knew they’d be going in with him if they tried. So eventually people gathered around Jake and pushed him in. He wasn’t happy, since he had no other clothes there, but I don’t think anyone heard him because everyone was laughing so hard. Eventually, the casualty number grew. Soon Steph was pushed in, and then people picked up Bethany and were carrying her over to the pool. She was kicking and screaming, really making it hard for them to do anything, and they almost had her in, but she grabbed onto the railing on the side and just wouldn’t go in. By this time, Michelle and Marleen were yelling at them to stop, and eventually they let her go – the one that got away. Josh was targeted next, and though he put up a fight, they got him in. Melissa was the next victim, and they threw her in there with her sweater on and everything.

The number of dry people were dwindling, and Bethany, Dave, and I were looking around in fear of who would be the next to go. I took my wallet and keys out of my pocket just in case, although I planned to put up a fight if they tried, but I figured it was better to be safe than sorry. Eventually Jake got the idea to grab a little purple bucket, fill it with water, and try to throw it at us. He had horrible aim, but I guess it was a smart idea – if you can’t bring the people to the pool, bring the pool to the people. Anyways, eventually Jake, Josh, and Zeth zoned in on Dave and I and went in for the kill. There was nowhere to run and nowhere to hide. They had us locked in and started to come toward us. We both saw them coming and tried to get around them, but Jake and Josh grabbed Dave and tried dragging him up the stairs. I saw my opportunity, deked around Zeth and under the railing, and retreated to the safety of the indoors. I would have helped Dave and all, but survival instincts had kicked in – personal safety first, and then help others. Anyways, Dave just grabbed onto the railing and held on for all he was worth. By this time, Michelle and Marleen’s dad had noticed what was going on, and he opened the patio and told them to stop. Dave was lucky that time.

In all, Dave, Bethany, and I were the only ones that stayed dry. After playing some badminton in the dark, we began to keep losing the birdie over the big six-foot privacy fence that separated their backyard from the neighbour’s. We climbed over it a few times, but eventually we just gave up on the badminton idea because it was just too dark. People wanted to go home and change because they were soaking wet, so eventually we decided to go over to the Staats’ house. On the way out, though, Melissa wanted to try and drive a little bit. I was very hesitant, considering she doesn’t have her license yet and has never driven before, but I figured as long as I was in the front passenger seat, I could stop her quickly if she screwed up horribly. Bethany and I got in, and I told her what to do. “Turn on the car first. Then put your foot on the brake. Yeah, the one on the left. Now shift it into drive.” She looked scared, and never put her foot on the gas – which I was glad for. Since we were on a dead-end street, my wheels were still turned from when I parked, so pretty soon she was heading for the centre of the court. She straightened her wheels out with the most awkward hand movements (no hand-over-hand steering) and then realized she was heading for a bush (although she wasn’t that close – I would have stopped her way before that time), so she slammed on the brakes with both feet. Bethany and I almost flew out of our seats, and I almost hit my head on the dashboard. But I quickly put it into park and got into the driver’s seat before we got ourselves killed. I feel sorry for her mom when she has to teach Melissa to drive.

We got to the Staats’ house without killing ourselves, since I was driving, and then Zeth decided to actually call his mom from outside the house to see if it was okay that they had people over. She said it was fine, as long as we were quiet. A bunch of people came up to me before we went in, though, and asked if I could take them to Wendy’s since they didn’t get anything or weren’t there before. I considered it for a second, decided, “Hey, why not?” and took them. We got there and back without incident (and therefore without any further description of the event), and went inside, speeding up quicker when walking by a bunch of assumingly drunk guys outside a house with a party going on inside. They said we could go inside if we wanted, but we politely said, “No thanks,” and kept on walking. Jeez, stupid guys trying to steal my women. I was walking with three girls, and I wasn’t planning on giving any of them up. Well, not to a bunch of drunk guys, anyway.

We got inside, sat around the table for a while, then compared waist sizes between Becca and me. Melissa had a belt that she had taken off because it was wet from getting dumped in the pool. It was one of those belts with two rows of holes going basically along the entire length of the belt. So she wrapped it around me and counted how many holes it was, then did the same with Becca. I was sucking in my gut as far as I could, but she still beat me by one hole – about an inch. I’m going to have to go anorexic to catch up – just joking, of course. If I became anorexic, I’d start getting into negative pounds, which is pretty hard to measure. Anyways, after that, Zeth burned me really bad, but I’m just not going to repeat it because I don’t want to give him that satisfaction. Then Melissa and I went downstairs and played a game of air hockey. Bethany cheated for Melissa, sticking her hand in my net while I was getting the puck and scoring three goals for Melissa. Almost every time Melissa hit it, it ricocheted off something and flew off the table. So I had to watch carefully to make sure they didn’t cheat when I went to get the puck. Anyways, she “won” 10-8 or something, then we kept playing because it was really 8-7 for me without the cheating goals. I scored another goal, then she scored another goal to “win again,” or in other words bring the score up to 9-8. She scored once more, so that whoever got the next goal won the game. That person, of course, was yours truly – the amazing air hockey champion, who, without cheating, has never lost a game at that table. Sure, I may suck on other tables, but on that one I always win.

Soon after my astounding win at air hockey, I took Bethany home and then headed home myself. I had a bit of trouble finding a place to park, because I couldn’t park in the garage due to the fact that people were going to be by the next day to redo our driveway. Eventually, though, after I came inside, my sister told me that dad had said that I should park it in the garage, so I did that. My mom also wanted to talk to me when I got home, even though she was in bed and sounded like she was talking in her sleep as she asked me about my interview – which she probably was. I answered her questions and then got out of there as quickly and quietly as I could, collapsing into bed. I’ve been so tired lately, and I was just looking for a good, long sleep. As I drifted off to La-La Land, I cheerfully remembered that I could sleep in the next morning, sighing with satisfaction.

Wrong. At about 8:00 AM this morning, I was rudely awakened by what sounded like a motorcycle idling. Since we get that all the time, though, living right next to an intersection where motorcycles go by, stop at the stop sign and idle, then drive through, I ignored it. About ten minutes later, though, it came back to my memory, and I thought, “Hey, that motorcycle’s been out there for a while. What the heck is that guy doing at the intersection?” Then it hit me – that wasn’t the sound of a motorcycle, but rather a front-end loader currently in the process of tearing up our driveway. As I listened more intently, I heard the sounds of guys talking to each other, and chunks of pavement being transported rather noisily. There went my nice slumber, right out the window from which came the sounds. By about 8:30 AM, I couldn’t take it anymore. I wasn’t getting any sleep, I was just getting drifting fragments of shut-eye mixed with restless attempts to sleep. It was just making me more tired, so I knew I just had to get up and deal with it.

The rest of the day so far has been a determined effort to keep my eyes open. As long as I’m doing something that keeps me occupied, it’s not too bad, but as soon as I slack off, so do my eyelids. The thing that makes it even worse is looking forward to tomorrow, where people are going to the beach for Melissa’s birthday, leaving at 9:30 AM. That means waking up at much the same time that I did today – the one thing about tomorrow that I’m most certainly not looking forward to. Then there’s the fact that something about water and the beach just tires you out completely to the point of exhaustion, meaning that not only will I have two or three bad nights of sleep under my belt, but also the exhaustion of whatever it is about the beach that exhausts me. I just sure hope no one calls and tries to set up an interview for Saturday. I’ll have to say, “Sorry, but I’m booked all Saturday, trying to catch up on my sleep. Would there be another time that is available? Perhaps next February?”

I guess that’s all I have to say today. I have an interview at Cineplex Odeon in an hour, and between now and then, I have to somehow rig up an inconspicuous-looking machine that pumps coffee into my system intravenously. I may have to excuse myself from the interview a few times for a bathroom break, but it’s better than excusing myself to go have a nap. Perhaps if I record myself being interviewed and answering questions, I can replay that to them during the interview, telling them beforehand that I’m a ventriloquist so they aren’t worried that my mouth isn’t moving. Perhaps the best option, though, is to somehow slip a sleeping potion of some sort into something the interviewer drinks. Then it’s just a matter of determination to keep from falling asleep until they do. Once they do that, they have no excuse. I could just say that they took so long to wake up that I fell asleep as well. Yes, I think I’ll have to try that option. It seems the most likely to work, unless of course the person doesn’t drink anything. Note to self: remind the person beforehand the importance of keeping hydrated, especially in the summer months. Yes, that should do the trick. Hooray for bizarre plans!

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