Repast

A

After graduating from the University Of Ottawa, an institution that held such a reputation that placement in the job market would be extremely possible, I took a month long trip to the thriving metropolis of Oshawa before enticing myself into looking for work.

                Therefore, on the first morning, of the first day, which I had chosen as the day I would join the job seeking population, I felt confident I was merely a phone call away from a most desirable and lucrative career.

                When the alarm purred at exactly 10:58 AM I bounced out of bed and caromed off the end table in my more than usual way.  I adjusted my footing and sprinted to the bathroom to evacuate my bladder.  Nearing the end of this action I mused to myself: What a wonderful sort of thing...this job seeking.

                Spinning on my heels I turned on the shower, disrobed and positioned myself in such a way so that the shower nozzle was spraying directly into my teeth, in a way, sandblasting the night's deposit of undigested food and drink away.  Feeling somewhat refurbished and a small degree lighter, I resumed my shower in the normal way that is accepted by western civilization.

                I toweled off and skipped off to the kitchen, where I consumed a pot of coffee and a piece of toast.  So gleeful was I that even the fact that my pet parakeet had escaped over the night , and at his own discretion, soiled every white or not easily washable surface in the room, made me not the least bit angry, although I silently vowed to break his left wing, it was in a jovial sort of way.

                Gliding easily over to the door I opened it and took the newspaper from the startled delivery boy, whom was relieving himself in my flower box.  I decided not to pay him this week.

                With great ceremony I placed the paper down on the bird shit littered kitchen table and opened it to the classified section.  I though to myself, which is my favorite way, with my prestigious schooling behind me finding a job will be ridiculously simple.  Upon skimming the ads a particular one caught my eye, and, after some pleading gave it back to me.

                Looking over the help wanted section I chuckled to myself.  Soon after that I broke into uncontrolled laughter, then, skipping an all-out-wail, went straight into unbridled hysterics without a single regret.  This job seeking was the cat's ass.

                The advert that was for me read:

                                "Late raising first day job seeker with prestigious schooling wanted for

  high paying, low responsibility job.  Risk pay included.  Call

  Office Equipment Testing Limited, 601-0610."

                After disinfecting the phone from the dried parakeet excrement I dialed the number.  Several rings later the corners of my mouth drooped a notch or two toward my chin.  Perhaps I had been hasty in assuming that job seeking could be this easy.  After a few more rings I was dangerously close to undefined hatred toward Ma Bell.  Upon the twenty-third ring the phone was answered, although my ear's refused to let the incessant ringing sound to go away that easy.

                Someone had answered in quite a lackluster way, whispering something about being cut off from supplies and a band of trench rats making off with the injured men.  Soon I was connected with the personnel manager, who too talked in warring slogans before allowing my questions to be answered.

                'You've got the job if you want it Sonny'.

                I decided then and there to change my name to Sonny.  I slam dunked the phone in its now cracked black plastic domain and prepared to go to work the next day.  Bliss abounded wildly.