For the last five months I have searched for employment almost every day. On a Monday in May, I received three job offers within four hours, two came within five minutes of each other. It was difficult to make a final decision, but I did ... or so I thought.
About two months ago, I applied to a research job with CBS in San Francisco. I interviewed and never heard back. A few weeks passed and I emailed CBS to follow-up. "While we were impressed with your skills, we've chosen another candidate whose qualifications more closely match our needs at this time," was CBS's response. I was upset and discouraged, and so I gave a simple reply, "Your loss."
Two more weeks passed, during which I received the three job offers and accepted one. Then CBS emailed me, "We would like to continue our search because our final candidate decided to take another position within our organization. Are you still interested in the position?"
Strange, I thought. I have since been interviewing with CBS while preparing to move to Phoenix for the job I have already accepted. CBS now wants me to travel to SF for an in-person interview.
More, this morning I received a phone call from a number with a 212 area code, New York, my old stomping ground. I was hesitant to answer, but I did. According to the man on the phone, my soon-to-be employer in Phoenix and its background-check service is unable to verify my past employment, Primetime Golf. Of course.
Stay tuned.
May 27, 2010
May 10, 2010
Light Tennis
A few days past, two friends in their mid-twenties played tennis on Skyline High School courts in Idaho Falls, ID. School, of course, is still in session. The strange, sonar bell rang around 12:20 indicating lunchtime for the students. A student parking lot expands the entire length of the south side of the four tennis courts. For 45 minutes cars buzzed in and out, leaving and then returning from lunch. A small truck returned from lunch and parked near the two friends around 12:45.
The door opened a few inches, a few more, and finally a girl appeared. Then, the friend serving on the south baseline stopped. He caught the tennis ball on his serve toss instead of striking the ball. He inhaled and caught an aroma too strong to be natural, and then perfume flooded his olfactory.
"Can you smell that?" he said to his tennis partner. "Somebody is using way too much perfume." He tossed the ball, served, and eventually lost the game. The two friends switched sides.
"You're right. It does smell over here. Somebody must have went home and smoked their lunch," he said.
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The door opened a few inches, a few more, and finally a girl appeared. Then, the friend serving on the south baseline stopped. He caught the tennis ball on his serve toss instead of striking the ball. He inhaled and caught an aroma too strong to be natural, and then perfume flooded his olfactory.
"Can you smell that?" he said to his tennis partner. "Somebody is using way too much perfume." He tossed the ball, served, and eventually lost the game. The two friends switched sides.
"You're right. It does smell over here. Somebody must have went home and smoked their lunch," he said.
View Larger Map
May 4, 2010
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