By Tardsie

***

The Hotel Quickie

AmericInn, Aberdeen, SD. Monday, 03.26.12 11:59 AM CST (Cretin Standard Time)

Tardsie calls the Front Desk.

T: Hi. This is room 204, I’m running about ten minutes late. Do you think I could get a late checkout?

FD: Well…what are we talking about here? Like 12:15?

T: I just need about ten minutes…but yeah, 12:15 would be great.

FD: Because checkout is at noon.

T: Yeah, I know. That’s why I’m calling.

***

SNOW JOB

A few months ago I applied for a job as a sales-rep/customer liaison with a company with which I had previously had some dealings. It was a part-time thing, working the phones from home. Because of my skill set and my previous dealings with the company, I was pretty sure I’d earn an interview. I liked the company, and was interested in working for them in some capacity, but wasn’t sure if I wanted to sacrifice my evenings.

So when the president of the company called me (it’s a small outfit) for an interview, I didn’t really feel I had anything at stake, and had never been so relaxed in an interview. Although I make it a point in any interview to impress the person to whom I’m speaking (it’s an interview, after all), I try to present a pretty honest–if selective–picture of myself, and never so much as in this interview. I was candid, unguarded and, I thought, fairly plain-spoken.

Toward the end of the interview, the president offered me a rather left-handed compliment. I was initially pleased when he complimented me on my “authoritative voice,” polished manner of speech and extensive vocabulary. But then, as he transitioned to the next point said, “But I guess you can talk normal when you want to.”

I didn’t get the job.

***

It’s A Long Drive To Tipperary

A few years ago, I was at Rite Aid picking up a few essentials for a trip. As he rung me up, the clerk asked where I was going.

“Ireland,” I told him.

“That’s cool,” he said, then asked, “So are you gonna fly there or drive?”

Unsure if he was joking, I was too stunned for a moment to answer. When I was finally able to speak, all I could muster were the words “Drive to Ireland?”

“Yeah,” he said sagely, answering his own question, “Ireland is too far to drive.”