Posted by: kristabella | May 5, 2007

Call Me The Michelin Woman

And not for my many rolls of flab. Or for the pasty white skin. (Both true.)

So Friday morning I had a third interview with this company. That I won’t tell you anything about. Because I don’t know how many other CEOs with really thin skin and huge egos are out there. I really want this job. And obviously, they are pretty interested. (Natch.) I think this was the last one and I’m hoping they make a decision soon. I’m getting quite used to sleeping in and not wearing heels.

You’ll recall (or you won’t) that during my job search last fall (which extended from the summer through the winter) I had to come up with plenty of lies for my interviews. Working in the suburbs and trying to get to the City causes you to leave plenty of time. More time than needed for any normal excuse.

And My Name Is Earl because karma slapped me in the head with a big old fucking stick yesterday.

As I was driving to the interview (it’s about 5 miles from my house, but it’s all on main streets, so it takes about 30 minutes, which beats the shit out of the 90-minute commute to the Dirt People Company.) I totally fucking hit the curb about 2 blocks from my house. It’s like this small side street and they let people park on both sides and there’s not enough room for two cars driving, let alone two cars driving AND two cars parked on the sides (four cars total. Keep up.) So as I turned onto this street, I saw the biggest pick-up truck coming towards me. Like one of those trucks with “thunder thighs” because the back-end-sidey-things-above-the-wheel-wells sticks out much further than the rest of it. (It was probably a Miata.) (If I was a monster truck, I would be shaped that way.) (I may start telling people that I have all this flab around my hips to accommodate my wheel wells.) (No, I don’t know what that means.)

So I cut the turn close. And in the process, I completely take out the cement from the curb. I don’t just nudge up against it. I hit it so hard I think I’ve either lost a tire or have run over a dead body.

First thought: That’s going to be a flat tire.

Second thought: Please don’t go flat until I get to the interview.

Third thought: It will be fine. Hellooooo, I tend to overreact.

So I go on my merry way. I’ve obviously left in plenty of time because I can’t afford to be late for an interview. (That happened once and my head about exploded.) I leave early so that in case there is some freak accident, like the Earth opening up and destroying the intersection of Western and Diversey, I have plenty of time to get to my destination. And to arrive five minutes early so future employer is all impressed with my promptness. Since it will never happen like this once I get the job.

Or, if I get a flat tire. Which I did. Hello Karma? Just call me Earl.

I didn’t actually notice right away. But after sitting at a stoplight about a mile into the commute, when I pulled away I smelled the burning rubber and the “thurumpt-thurumpt-thurumpt” of driving on your wheel. (Which I heard over Drex going on and on about something. (Wheel of Trash Fridays!) Which means, it was loud.) I had no choice but to pull over and do something about this. I think they would understand me being late with a flat tire, right?

So I pull down a side street and thankfully find a parking spot with enough space for me to change a tire. (Yes! I’m a woman! I can change a tire! Just like Pam on The Office! And I heart Jim too!)

What makes it difficult is that I’m in a suit. And I can’t get dirty. And heels. So I would like to say, the next time you have to change a tire, try doing it without kneeling on the ground. And just squatting. One hell of a leg workout.

I picked this side street because there were some businesses around. And people. Because I could see me trying to change the tire and getting thrown in my own trunk and someone driving off with me. And then I would be pissed I didn’t remember how to get help when locked in your own trunk from that email going around. (Why didn’t I read it and send to 50 of my women friends? Must make note to research how to escape from own trunk.)

There was some random dude. Standing on the corner. By his (??) mini-van. With the door open. He offered to help, but I didn’t take it. (Um, durr.) I knew what I was doing. If I could just find the jack! (Why is it in some super-secret-squirrel pocket in the truck? And what else is in my trunk that I don’t know about? And is there something in there that would help me escape being locked in my own trunk?)

So I got the tire changed. In less than 10 minutes! (Did I mention I was in heels? And a suit? Rock on with your bad self!) And was on my merry way to my interview.

And I wasn’t a minute late! Not! One! I was right on time. So according to Mr. Snoeck, I was late because “Early is on time and on time is late.” Suck it, Maestro.

The interview went really well. I called my mom on my way to tell her all about karma and changing my name to Earl (and I so don’t look anything like an Earl and don’t want to move into a hotel.) And she said “this is a good thing. Think of the stories you can tell them! And don’t wash your hands! Show them proof!”

Mom was right. It really helped. Look at my dedication! And my ability to think on my feet! And my willingness to get things done! In a timely manner! The VP lady was super impressed. The other person was just impressed that I didn’t immediately call AAA and a taxi. (Which I think overshadowed the fact that I actually said “ginormous” in the interview. Seriously.)

So woot to me. Because I rule.

And please give me the job.

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Responses

  1. so let me get this straight, there was one car on EACH side of the street, AND barely enough room for TWO cars on this thorough-fare (sp.?)? so FOUR cars total…

  2. 1,2,3, 4…yep, you’re right…

  3. Wow! I am mucho impressed! It IS good karma… This is a good sign, and cause for celebration… Someone, break out the Magic Shell! 😉

    (hi Lori!).

  4. Magic Shell! Just don’t put it in the fridge! 🙂

    I’m so impressed Rich can count. And add. There’s hope for him yet.

  5. Wow, wow, WOW! I like to consider myself an empowered, independent woman, but I have NEVER changed my own tire, let ALONE on the way to a job interview! In fact, the two times I’ve had flat tires, I was such an astute driver that OTHER drivers had to honk their horns at me and tell me that the rubber was practically falling off. I

    Fingers crossed tight that you get the job! This has to be a sign!

    And I also heart Jim 🙂

  6. Wow! Your Mom rocks with QUICK good advice…must be where you get the ability to think fast on your feet….although your inability to lie is another story. Sorry Mom didn’t pass that down to you as well!

  7. I really hope you get the job and congrats on the 10 min tire change. Magic Shell for sure! Even if it has been in the fridge…if you can get it out. Miss you – my acronym friends – KJ & JC! 🙂


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