While I attended the Precision Measurement Equipment course (calibration technician course) in Denver, Colorado, I went to school from 6:00 AM to 12:00 PM five days a week. I had the rest of the day off ostensibly to study if necessary. I never found it necessary to study. As a result, I had a lot of time on my hands. Although that made me quite happy, my wife was not exactly thrilled. She did not like the idea of me lounging around the house all afternoon getting into trouble with my friends. Not that I got into trouble with my friends. Because of course, I didn’t. I would never do something like that. If you don’t believe me, just ask me. I was a regular Angel. Would you like to see my halo? Perhaps my wings? Anyway, my wife finally got fed up. She was tired of having me laying around the house. She told me, “Get off your lazy ass and go out and find a job.” I asked, “What kind of job? The only kinds of things I know how to do are shooting guns and fixing cars because basically, that’s all I’ve ever done.” “I don’t care what kind of job. Just get a job.” So, I got a newspaper and searched the classifieds. There were all kinds of jobs for school teachers. The only problem was I didn’t have a degree. As a result, I didn’t qualify. There were also a few jobs for people to work in a daycare. But every time I inquired about those jobs, they seemed to be looking for somebody else. They never said who that somebody else might be. But I had a sneaking suspicion that the somebody else they were looking for was of the female persuasion. I had no proof of that, and they would never say so. But if you’re not the person they’re looking for, and there’s nothing wrong with you; they were obviously looking for a female. Of course, there’s always the possibility that they were thinking that I was a child molester, and that I couldn’t be trusted to be within 100 miles of a kid. There was always that possibility. The only other jobs available were for part-time help as cashiers in these large department stores. Let me tell you something about that. I didn’t know shit about large department stores. Cuz I couldn’t afford to buy shit in a large department store. Those stores were for rich folks. I was in the Army. I was not what you would call rich folks. The other thing about that job description was the cashier thing. I didn’t know shit about being a cashier. I had some fuzzy ideas about being a cashier because I had been in grocery stores before and the five and dime and a couple of hardware stores. And all of those stores had cash registers. And I knew that the clerk generally punched some buttons on the face of the cash register to get the amounts for the purchase and it sort of worked like a calculator. Yeah. That was the extent of my knowledge. I bought shit. The clerk at the store rang the shit up. And I gave him money. That’s pretty much how it went. But my wife said get a job. So, I said what the hell. I’ll apply for one of these jobs. They probably aren’t going to hire me anyway. So, what the hell. It can’t hurt, right? Boy was I naïve. Well, a week went by, and I forgot all about the job I applied for. A friend of mine from school asked me if I could fix his car brakes. I said, “Sure.” One afternoon after school, we went to an auto parts store and got the parts we needed to fix his brakes. I put on my coveralls and started fixing his brakes. When we had the brake assemblies disassembled, I asked him if he wanted the brake drums put on a lathe. He asked me what that would do for the brakes. I told him that it would make the brake drums true and smooth so that they wouldn’t bind and grab when he applied the brakes. He said yes, so we took the brake drums to a machine shop and had them ground and polished. Then, I reassembled the brakes and started to bleed them. While we were bleeding the brakes, my wife came out and said I had a phone call. I told my friend, “I’ll be right back. But we’re almost done here.” I went in and answered the phone. I said, “Hello.” The voice at the other end of the line asked, “Hello. Is this Wright Masters?” “Yes. That’s me.” “Mister Masters, are you currently employed?” “Yes. I’m in the Army. I’m here attending the calibration school at Lowry Air Force Base.” “What is your current rank?” “I am currently a Sergeant, E5.” “Mister Masters, can you be here in 15 minutes?” “Where is here?” “Oh. I’m sorry. At the Dillard’s department store in the Aurora Mall. Do you know where that is?” “Yes. That’s on the Alameda if I’m not mistaken. But in traffic, it will take me a good 15 or 20 minutes to get there and I haven’t cleaned up.” “That’s okay. Come as you are and get here as fast as you can.” “Are you sure? I really need to clean up.” “That’s okay. Really. Leave now and get here as soon as possible. Thank you.” “Okay.” I went back out and told my friend I had to go but that his car was essentially good to go. I said he could go around and bleed the brakes one more time if he wanted to. But it wasn’t necessary. I told him to check the master cylinder to make sure it had enough brake fluid before he left. I washed my hands, and then I left. When I got to the Aurora Mall, I went into Dillard’s and asked for the personnel department. They sent me to the second floor. When I got to the personnel department, I reported to a lady at a desk. I walked up and said, “Hi. My name is Wright Masters. I was told to come here as soon as possible, so here I am.” The lady looked at me and frowned. Then she said, “Somebody told you to come here?” “That’s right.” “Did you apply for a job?” “I did because my wife asked me to.” “Do you always show up for job interviews dressed like that?” “Look lady, I told whoever I was talking to that I needed to clean up. But oh no. She said I would be fine. I needed to get here now. Well, hello. I’m here.” “You do understand that this is a fine department store, don’t you?” “You do understand that I have another life outside of this fine department store, don’t you? I told the lady I needed to clean up. She said it would be fine. Look I don’t need your stinking job. The only reason I applied for this job is because I go to school from 6 AM to noon and then I’m off for the rest of the day. My wife doesn’t want me laying around the house all day getting into trouble. That’s why she told me to get a job. That’s the only reason I’m looking for a job. I don’t need your job. I already got a job. I guess I’ll leave now.” “Well, since you’re here, I’ll go ahead and have you talk to the VP. Just have a seat over there.” And the lady pointed to a row of chairs. I took a seat and waited. About 10 minutes later, I heard my name called. When I walked into the office of the vice president, I heard her gasp. She looked me over and said, “Do you always dress like this for an interview? I smiled, it was more like a smirk, and said, “I see we’re going down this road again.” “What road would that be?” “The ‘you look like a filthy bum’ road.” “I wasn’t aware that we had been down this road before.” “Well, ma’am, you and I may not have danced. But your staff and I sure as hell have.” “Really?” “For the record, I do not need this job. I already have a full-time job. The only reason I’m here is because my wife told me to apply for a part-time job. I did that. By all means, tell me I don’t have the job, I look like a bum, get the hell out, and I’ll leave. It’s as simple as that. And guess what? I won’t even be mad.” “Then, why did you apply for this job?” “Really? Did you not hear what I just said? I applied for the job because my wife wanted me out of the house, so I looked for a part-time job to make her happy.” “Okay, Mister Masters. Let me ask you one question. Have you ever sold anything?” “Well, I sold newspapers when I was a kid.” “Were you any good at it?” “Well, considering that I lived in the middle of North Dakota and it was the Minneapolis Tribune, and everybody really wanted the Fargo newspaper, yes. In fact, I sold enough newspapers to win a trip to Minneapolis to see a Minnesota Twinkies baseball game and go to an amusement park and that sort of thing.” “I see. Have you sold anything else?” “Well, before I joined the Army, I worked as an assistant mechanic in this Pontiac-Oldsmobile dealership in my hometown. I also took care of the used car lot. I lived in a small town. Every so often, somebody would come to town and ask about the cars on the used car lot. Whenever they did, they would always ask about the cheap ones first. I would tell them straight up, “You don’t want to buy that one or that one.” Invariably, they would ask me why. So, I would tell them, “That red one has a problem with the transmission. The blue one has a cracked head, and the yellow one over there needs a valve job. Let me show you this one right here. This one is $700 more, but for that extra $700, you are getting one fine running machine. This car right here will run like a scalded dog. And it ain’t got no quit. That’s the car you need to buy. Yes Sir, if I had the money, that car would be sitting in my driveway. I could sell a Cadillac to a blind woman.” “It certainly sounds like it. Well, I’ve heard enough. Go outside and talk to Marjorie.” “Who is Marjorie?” “Oh. She is the second lady you would have talked to. She will set you up with training. And Mister Masters, next time please wear a shirt and a tie.” “Are you saying I got the job?” “Yes. I like you. You are definitely hired.” As I walked out of that vice president’s office, I realized that I had somehow talked my way into an exercise in futility of a job in a department store. What the hell?!?
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