Occupy the Key!

The Buffoonery and the Interviewee (A True Story)

Once upon a time I was called upon to do an interview. The interview seemed to go well. Thanks to the Miracle of Modern Airlines the interviewee had been late arriving. By the time the interviews (at least a half dozen people interviewed each candidate) were over the person playing chauffeur had left. So, rather than pack the interviewee off in a cab, I agreed with the head of HR to take the interviewee to the airport.

(Foreshadowing: My only transportation was a motorcycle, which we did not feel would make a great impression on the interviewee.)

As some people suggested that the interviewee's looks may have factored into my agreeing to take her to the airport, it should be pointed out that not only was (and am) I quite happily married, but the interviewee was an amazon who thought going to Antarctica and wrestling whales was a Great Thing To Do In One's Spare Time, so there were definitely no evil thoughts in my simple mind. Meanwhile, the office manager (a truly pathetic title for The One Who Holds All Power and Can Get Things Done (TOWHAPaCGTD)) offered to let me use her car as an airport limo.

(Foreshadowing: TOWHAPaCGTD had a very nice Mercedes.)

After delivering the interviewee to the airport safely (and with perfect propriety), I realized the car in question was nearly out of gas. At a Texaco on the way back I spent 5 minutes looking for the gas cover door release, before calling TOWHAPaCGTD and asking where said release was, only to find out there was none-- you just pushed on the door. As if by magic, it worked.

I pulled around to the pump, locked the doors (having lived a long time in the Crime Capital of The USA (Atlanta)) and found the gas cover door would not open for anything. Eventually I decided the gas cover door was jammed and cleverly decided to use a Key to open it. Applying only light pressure with the handy car key, the handy car key broke in half.

After staring at the key for about a minute, I (somehow without whimpering) thought of Super Glue(tm). I bought some and glued the key together. It broke going into the door lock. I glued it again, praying like crazy. This time it worked. Ever so carefully and prayerfully, I withdrew the key from the lock, and it didn't break! I pumped some gas. I paid for the gas. I put yet more glue onto the key to make it as strong as Fearless Fly, inserted it into the ignition, and drove back to the office.

TOWHAPaCGTD was fortunately a kind and understanding individual. Even more fortunately, the TOWHAPaCGTD's husband also worked at the place of employment and had a spare key, as the muchly glued key had by now fallen 2 feet onto a very thick, soft carpet and burst asunder.

TOWHAPaCGTD refused to even worry about the cost of replacing the key (not cheap on a Mercedes). I now felt deeply indebted to TOWHAPaCGTD and was planning to have another firstborn to give to her in gratitude. My wife vetoed this idea.