Be careful for what you wish

I start a new part-time job on Tuesday. Hmmmm. Be careful for what you wish.

In my last post I said I would take a part-time job (maybe) if one were offered to me. Well, believe it or not, one was offered.

Earlier this spring I had applied for a job at a gourmet food shop in our little tourist town. I even had an interview/coffee with the store manager at the coffee shop across the street from the food shop. The manager seemed genuinely interested and said they were looking for someone to start before the Memorial holiday weekend. ... And then I never heard from her again.

"Oh well," I said to King. "Guess I'm too old, my reference phone numbers were wrong, or maybe they just went with someone else."

I suppose I could have made more of an effort, but having been in a managerial role many times before it really bothered me when people were annoyingly persistent. So I dropped it. The bulldog reporter in me disappeared with retirement.

Yesterday my cousin and I were shopping in town and she wanted to visit that same little gourmet food shop. The manager recognized me immediately and said she really had wanted to  hire me. Really? Uh huh, sure.

"Our production manager didn't want to hire you because you are a reporter and she thought you might sell our secrets to someone. We had a store just like ours open in South Carolina and our owner had to sue them."

I am flattered. I am offended.

Here is the reality folks: I worked hard to earn the reputation of being a reputable writer. I have won awards that I earned, not by selling myself to the highest bidder, but by working for those awards and reputation. Besides, I cook a little bit. I can go into your shop, look at the ingredient list on your wares and pretty much figure out how to copy what you have. Anyone can. It does not take a special talent. And I do not have the wherewithal  for espionage.  That Dutch Reformed guilt would kill me.

Anyway, the manager said she still wanted to hire me and the production manager happened to be there at that very moment and maybe I could talk to her? Um, no, I am here shopping with my cousin.

"Just let me bring her out here to meet you."

Okay. My honest face is going to win her over, right?

So I met the production manager who shook my hand, turned, and as she walked away said to the manager, "Do whatever you want."

And with that warm welcome I have a job that starts on Tuesday. Yea?

Hey, it's a seasonal job. In my original interview I was up-front and said I would be leaving in December for parts unknown. I was told January through March were slow times, so it worked well with their schedule.

I can now pay for our trailer renovation with cash instead of credit. That works.