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Single Guy
THURSDAY JUNE 28, 2006
Hey There!! For those of you who came here over the last couple of weeks looking for new stories and found none… my apologies. I’ve been slacking a little bit lately. I wish I could tell you I’ve been off doing something exotic. Sadly, I have not. But when I do… you’ll be the first to know. In the meantime, we’ll stick with the beauty in everyday things. Welcome Back. I missed you. Seriously.

RESUMING THE EXCITEMENT
I’m thinking about taking another position here at the radio station and the head of that department asked me to put a resume together. So, as I sat down at my computer, I was recalling the last stime I went through this. It was a few years ago. I was living in Chicago. I woke up one morning, started to get ready for my dead-end job and knew it was time for a change. Time to take charge! Show a little ambition! …So I called in sick, made a pot of coffee, and sat down with the classified ads. Four hours later they wrapped up the Family Ties Marathon I’d stumbled upon, and I knew it was time to get down to business. I opened the paper and there it was! ‘Outside sales, guaranteed income’ …Hmmm… ‘No experience necessary’ …Ooooh, that’s so me... ‘Looking for highly motivated self-starter’ …Huh… hello?! They might as well put my picture in there… ‘Apply in person. No phone calls please.’ So I picked up the phone to find out more about this exciting opportunity. Two days later I was selling meat out of the back of a truck. True story. Gotta' create your own destiny.

So, anyway... Here I am again, putting together the ol’ resume. Always a harrowing experience for me. It’s like a trip down memory lane, just completely void of any sentimentality whatsoever.

Okay… EDUCATION. Now, if it’s your first job right out of college, your employer may want to see transcripts. But, I’ve been out of school for some time. At this point chances are slim that anybody’s going to want to see my report card, so I thought I might spice this up a bit. …Bachelor’s Degree in Communications… ummmm… working’ on my Masters, what the hell.

Okay… EXPERIENCE. Now, that’s not entirely accurate is it? …Since none of my experiences worth mentioning are going to help me get the job… how ‘bout WORK HISTORY? Yeah, I’m a little more comfortable with that.

Alrighty. Lesseee… 1989-1991… well, I made pizzas. That’s not gonna wow ‘em. “…Consistently created well-rounded sales approach, based on serving customers needs… and making change(s) as necessary, …in heated environment.” Ooh, that’s good.

Okay, from June 1st to June 8th of ‘91, that’s when I sold meat out of the back of a truck. Though clearly in need of embellishment, this one proved a little more difficult. I won’t even get into how I described that fiasco. Suffice to say the term, “Mobile Protein Distribution” was invented. And used. And so it went until I got to my current position, which I couldn’t sugarcoat too much, as the person reading it works in the office down the hall.

Next it was on to the section where you can list your personal attributes. I’ve always found it’s best to stick with the qualities in this section that endeared me to my kindergarten teacher. “I work well with others… good at picking up after myself… and I know how to separate work from playtime.”

So there it is, my life on one sheet of paper. Hope it does the trick. Oh, and by the way…? If anybody asks you if I have a pilot’s license… If you could say “Yeah” that’d be great, ‘cause I kinda put you down as a reference.


THURSDAY JUNE 8, 2006
CRYING AT THE DRIVE-THRU WINDOW

I think I’m going to have to give up some of my favorite products. Maybe they’re just changing with the times and I’m not, I don’t know. Their new ad campaigns are confusing me.

Sadly, Mc Donald’s no longer makes cheeseburgers with me in mind. Or at least they’re not trying to tempt me the way they once did. I dunno what’s going on. Unless, of course, they think I am ‘chillin out, rollin with my shorty’ when I’m not ‘catchin mad air on the mountain’. In which case I’m beginning to think that clown never knew me at all. He used to love to see me smile.

Kentucky Fried Chicken is another joint that seems to want to change their image a lot. I don’t think they even know who they’re going after. “Eating healthy? Take home a bucket of the colonel’s extra crispy!” They even shortened up the name awhile ago and decided they wanted to go with just the initials. And I was cool with that. You don’t want to mention grease while we’re eating chicken, hey… I’m not going to bring it up. So I got used to calling it KFC, then they said, “Y’know what? We’re just gonna' go back to the long name, you can call us KFC or go back to good ol’ “kitchen fresh chicken.” Kitchen Fresh Chicken? What is that? The colonel has now overestimated the extent my short-term memory loss and my health consciousness. Kitchen fresh… I went in there the other day and felt like I had to say, “I’d like mine fried… y’know… like they do in Kentucky.”

I n some cases, I got hooked on a product and they just changed it without saying a word. I enjoy a refreshing breath mint once in awhile, like anybody else. The one I always preferred was the only one with a glistening drop of retsin. Now, I don’t know that I could taste the retsin, or if I even know what it is, but it sure was nice to know that it was there, wasn’t it? Where did the retsin go? Did they run out? How could they, when it was only given out one glistening drop at a time?

but the worst thing, the worst thing is when I’ve grown to love a product and they just take it away altogether. You remember Monchichis? You haven’t seen any of them around lately, have you? No, really… have you? Oh, how I loved the Monchichi. It was like one minute they’re everywhere and then the hair starts falling off yours, and they’re nowhere to be found. You know what that does to a kid? I still remember it was right before my thirteenth birthday. I don’t have to tell you there was one pre-teen singing a sad, sad song that night. “… Oh so soft and cu… da… leeeee.”

Dammit, I swore I wouldn’t get all worked up. I’m really more mad than anything. From now on, I’m not going to use any products that don’t aim their advertising at me, or ones that try to pull any switcheroos on me… or that have made me cry.

Mark my words… you won’t see me at the drive-thru at “Kitchen Fresh Chicken” or at “Mickey Dizzle Mc Shnizzles” any time soon. And even if you do, you can bet I won’t be munching on a Certs. And even if I am, you’ll know which car is mine; the one with the sticker of Calvin peeing on a Monchichi.


 

     
 
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© 2006 Mark Eischen