Dream Job

Dream Job

Lexi just laughed at me.

‘You’re too honest, Ricky, to land a dream job like this.’

‘What’s that mean. How can you be too honest?’

‘Well, its why I love you. But you’re too straight up, you can’t bend the rules. And to score a job like this you need to.’

We’d both applied. The ad read:

‘...Travel Rate seeks a highly motivated individual with a passion for international travel. To rate the performance and service of five-star hotels and resorts across the Globe. The successful candidate must be willing to travel for months at a time. You’ll fly first class with all accommodation, meals, transport paid for, plus a generous salary...You must have a current American passport, be well presented and ready to start immediately...’

We’d argued who was best qualified.

‘…So what, Ricky, I’ve managed five-star hotels. I know what makes them great and what makes them suck.’

‘Yeah ok, Lexi. I’ve chef’d at the best five-star hotel restaurants around the planet. The guests are only interested in the food. I’ll be able to tell who’s is best.’

‘And what? No one cares about the service, the cleanliness of their room, value for money, how comfy their bed is?’

‘No, not if the foods awesome they don’t.’

‘That’s bullshit, Ricky. All five-star hotel restaurants dish up great food. Name me one that doesn’t.’

‘Ok. Iskakov’s in Kazakhstan’s crap, so’s Niazi’s in Islamabad…’

‘…They’re third world countries you idiot. They wouldn’t even get one star. You’ve made my point for me.’

‘No. you’re missing the point, Lexi. You get the same service, clean room, value and a comfy bed at any five-star hotel. It’s the food that sets them apart.’

‘Damn you’re frustrating, Ricky. I’m done with this debate. Just don’t bother turning up to the interview because I’m before you. And they would’ve already given me the gig. I’ll be signing the paperwork before you arrive.’

She hadn’t spoken to me since and today was the day. I waited in bed until I heard her leave. Then dived out pumped for my interview.

But I had a drama. I had no shoes. My wardrobe was bare. I searched the house, garage, under the house, the attic. They’d disappeared. And I couldn’t go to the interview barefoot. It wouldn’t pass the ‘be well presented’ test. Now I was running late.

My problem was my size fifteen feet. I couldn’t waltz around the neighbors and borrow a set of soles. I needed to get to a store. If I punched it, I might just make it. If I didn’t get hooked for speeding. It was my only shot.

Another problem hit me. A catastrophic one. My car keys were gone. And I always hang them on the same hook. I scoured the kitchen. A note on the counter caught my attention.

‘Morning my love, sorry. I told you it’s my dream job, so I had to play mean. Let’s go to Danni’s for dinner. A celebratory one for my new job at Travel Rate. My shout. Lexi xo.’

I screwed it and hurled it at the wall. There was no bus. The train was a thirty-minute walk. Ok, I’d taxi or uber it.  

But I couldn’t find my phone. It was on the desk in my study. I remembered checking it before I went to bed then plugging it into the charger.

I closed my eyes and tried to think. Ok, so, no shoes, no car, no phone. Lexi had royally screwed me. No dream job.

Damnit. I’d have to email them with a reason to postpone the interview. It’d have to be a death. Something sudden and tragic. Someone close otherwise they wouldn’t believe it.

I laughed to myself. Yeah, after what Lexi had done, her mother was about to die. In a car crash and horribly.

I sat at my desk staring at a bunch of cables that were supposed to be plugged into my laptop. Seriously. Who wants a job that bad. To hell with Lexi. I was getting to that interview. And barefoot.

My watch said I had thirty minutes to make a forty-minute trip. I felt a small victory, I still had my watch.

I hustled next door, hoping Mrs Barnes was home.

‘…Oh, good morning, Ricky. Please come in I’ve just put the kettle on. Join me for coffee and cake?’

‘Thanks Mrs Barnes. Can I borrow your car? Mine must have a flat battery. I need to get to an appointment and I’m late.’

‘Oh, of course. Now, is everything alright, dear? You look a little flustered and you’re not wearing shoes.’

‘Yes, I’m fine thanks. Your car keys…?’

‘My keys, yes. I think they’re in my handbag.’

They weren’t.

She moved at a glacial pace. Rifling through draws. Sitting to ponder. I now had twenty-five minutes for a forty-minute trip.

‘Oh, silly me, Ricky. You know what I’ve done don’t you?’

I tried to hide my rising frustration.

‘No, Mrs Barnes, what’ve you done?’

‘Well, I left them in the keyhole in the car. At least I think I have.’

‘Ok, I’ll check.’

‘Thank you. Now, you like cream with your coffee, but not sugar, don’t you?’

‘Perfect.’ I called over my shoulder as I hustled out.

My luck had turned the keys were in the ignition. I fired it up and departed. Tires screeching, the rear of the Cadillac fish tailing as I did.

I didn’t dare check the petrol gauge. If I ran out of gas I’d accept defeat. I had twenty minutes for a forty-minute drive. I didn’t need a calculator. Whatever the speed sign said I had to travel at double it.

If the law stopped me, I’d accept defeat.

It was a harrowing drive at speeds of one twenty in a sixty zone. One sixty in an eighty. Weaving like a lunatic in and out of highway traffic, leaning on the horn. I was sweating like a fire fighter but couldn’t take my eyes off the road to crank the air con.

But I was still late.

I parked illegally outside the office of Travel Rate, in an accessible parking space. I reasoned Mrs Barnes would’ve had she driven, and it was her car.

My mind was in such a state I hadn’t thought about my interview strategy. Why I was the right fit for the job that they’d surely ask.

Yeah sure, I thought, some sweat soaked shirt, bare footed, unjacketed, disheveled guy. Up against the meticulously prepared, beautifully presented Lexi.

I doubted I’d even get past security. I could hear them.

‘…Hey, Jed. D’ya see that shoe-less bum just waltz into reception. Chuck him out before he steals somethin.’

Somehow, I got past security and reception, got a temporary pass and directions to a meeting room on level six. I was the sole occupant of the lift. On its walls were pasted a bunch of Travel Rates mantras. Mission Statement. Purpose. Values.

The ‘values’ gave me an idea. There were four.

1.    Selfless in everything we do.

2.    Valuing others above ourselves.

3.    Living life with a positive mindset.

4.    Nothing’s insurmountable. We mean...Nothing.

But I was late by twelve minutes. Typically, a fatal mistake in an interview. I expected the meeting room to be empty. It wasn’t. There were two people. A guy about my age, late twenties. Dressed in a black T-shirt, blue jeans and brown suede loafers. And a woman, maybe early forties in a dark blue business suit. She looked me over, staring at my bare feet, then looked up at me disapprovingly.

He, Stef, was introduced as the VP of Travel Rate, the woman, Anne, director of human resources. She was going to be tough.

‘So, Ricky, have you ever missed a flight? Cause in this job you take plenty.’

‘No, Anne, I haven’t. I’m typically reliably punctual.’

She laughed and rolled her eyes.

‘Yeah, well, you chose great day to make an exception, Ricky. I can’t remember the last time an applicant turned up late for an interview. It’s never happened unless there was some personal tragedy. The only reason we’re still in this room is because we’re evaluating candidates. And right now, you ain’t one of ‘em.’

Too straight up she’d said. We’ll see.

‘I had a choice to make this morning, Anne. Make it to my interview on time or stop and help a pregnant woman who’d crashed on the A40. I stopped to ensure she was safe, ok and waited with her until medical care arrived. If I miss out on the job for that, yeah, well, I just have to accept it.’ Value #1 box ticked.

‘Gee, ok, so, you knew it’d make you late for your interview, but you were still prepared to stop and render assistance?’

‘I was yes, Anne. And I plan on checking in on her when I leave.’

‘Ok. That’s impressive. Now, to the obvious question. Why the bare feet. I mean who comes to an interview not wearing shoes? I’ve never seen it before, and I’ve been doing this twenty years.’

‘Well, Anne, I was wearing shoes when I left the house. And expected I would when I arrived at Travel Rate. But there was this barefoot homeless guy shuffling along. I noticed he had large feet like me. Size fifteens are difficult to find. So, I gave him mine. I’ve got a few pairs back at the house.’ Value #2 box ticked.

‘What, you just gave some homeless guy your shoes? Right before an interview. No one does that. Come on, Ricky.’

‘Well, Anne, you’re right. Who comes to an interview bare foot. I sure hadn’t expected to. I suppose it was an impulsive decision and it just seemed the right thing to do. I realized I’d probably never see the guy again and winters a tough time not to have shoes if you’re sleeping rough.’

‘Yeah, well, that was pretty selfless given the stakes. I like it. It’s out there like us. Now, I’ll let Stef ask a couple of questions.’

‘Man, Ricky. That was cool what you’ve done this morning. Helping a pregnant chick and some homeless dude. Risking blowing up the great opportunity we’re offering.

So, around here, if you don’t roll with a positive mindset you won’t last. We’re hyper upbeat. Is that you? Perhaps lay down an e.g. for me and Anne.’

‘Well, Stef, I’ve probably read every book, blog, post, watched a thousand hours of online content on positive mindsets. From the Chinese philosophers thru to Anthony Robbins. Then I like to share my learnings with friends and colleagues. And I gotta warn you both, if you want me working here, you’re gonna have to accept there’ll be a motivational message waiting in your inbox when you get in.’ Value #3 box ticked.

‘Wow. I’m already pumped, Ricky. And hey, you gotta share the Chinese philosopher dudes you mentioned. That sounds super interesting.’

‘Yep, I’d love to, Stef. I flick them over when I get home.’

‘Awesome, thanks. Now, around here we say nothing’s insurmountable. What’s that mean to you?’

‘Well, to me it means if you want to fly, learn how. If you want to breathe under water learn how and if you want to be President learn how. It plays to your last question, Stef, about a positive mindset. You just damn well don’t say I can’t. ‘Value #4 box ticked.

‘Yeah, sweet, that it does. Thanks Ricky. Ok, I’m out, back to you Anne.’

‘Thanks Stef. Now that’s the core questions covered, Ricky. We’ll run through your resume and cover off those details.’

I answered a bunch of back story questions and it seemed to go ok.

‘Ok, Ricky. That’s been great. Are you happy to wait while Stef and I go to my office to discuss your interview and evaluate your fit?’

‘Yeah, sure, I’m happy to wait.’

They left and I sat back eyes closed wondering how Lexi’s interview had gone. I couldn’t message her to find out. I waited what seemed an age for Anne and Stef to return. When they did, I wasn’t confident from their body language or facial expressions. Anne spoke.

‘So, Ricky, we’ve evaluated your interview against the other interviewees. Yours was the last of six. Now, unfortunately, you scored a D for being late.’

Great. Thanks Lexi.

‘But the reason you were, helping a distressed pregnant woman got you an A+. So, it sorta cancelled the D out. But you got another D for being barefoot. It didn’t meet the presentation standard.’

Thanks again, Lexi, for screwing me.

‘Then you got another A+ for the reason you were. Donating your shoes to a homeless person. Cancelling it out again. Now, your resume wasn’t as polished as one applicant who has extensive experience in running five-star hotels. But we felt your values are better aligned with ours, as demonstrated by your actions this morning.’

‘Ok, so what’s all that mean?’

‘That we have a dilemma, Ricky. You’re pretty much neck and neck with another outstanding applicant. She was faultless and I see her as CEO material.’

Damn you Lexi.

‘Yeah, ok, Anne, but what’s it mean?’

‘Well, it means we’re offering you both the job.’

I looked at her perplexed.

‘How’s that supposed to work?’

‘Well, we’ll split the job across the northern and southern hemispheres. You take one she’ll take the other. We just need to resolve who covers which. How’s that sound, Ricky?’

‘Well, it sounds awesome. What’s the name of the other successful candidate?’

‘Her names Belinda Delaney. Do you know her?’

‘No, I don’t.’

‘Ok, you will soon. Now, Ricky, the job offer will be in your inbox tonight. When can you start?’

‘Tomorrow.’

‘Perfect.’

xx