After interviewing every skinny, blonde, 22-year-old girl named Courtney/Lindsay/Casey/Bailey/Kelsy/etc., we have a new recruiter. YAY!!!
We hired a skinny, brunette 22-year-old with a name ending in "Y"!
In actuality, we only interviewed 13 people (plus another 5 or 6 on the phone) and the girl we hired was number 13. From here on out, I will refer to her as "Thirteen". Couple reasons for this.
First - I can't remember her damn name! Seriously, after the parade of perky "Y's", all of them blend together in my head and I keep referring to her by the wrong name.
Second - I used a fake name for Jackie, so it's only fair that I give her a pseudonym, too.
Third - She looks kind of like Olivia Wilde who plays, "Thirteen" on House. Yes, she's 22, smart, thin and beautiful. No, I don't hate her yet.
She was one of several qualified candidates. Everyone we talked to was smart and engaging and had some or most of the skills we were looking for. It was hard to narrow it down. None of them really won us over immediately like Jackie did and my boss and I were becoming discouraged. And then Thirteen came in for her interview.
She was, honestly, no better or worse than any of the others we had talked to. However, she commented on "The Office" calendar hanging on my bulletin board. She asked if I was a fan and I said that my boss and I love it. She smiled and said she liked it, too. We finished the interview and at the end she asked if I would like her LinkedIn address. I said, sure. She pulled a notepad out of her purse & wrote the address on it. Imprinted across the top of the note was:
That's what *she* said.
And that's how Thirteen became the new Jackie.
Showing posts with label Jackie. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jackie. Show all posts
Monday, June 8, 2009
Saturday, May 30, 2009
I Guess It Was Inevitable...
It appears that I have finally reached the age where I've become invisible to men. I knew it would happen eventually 'cause I've totally seen it happen to other women. I've watched a group of guys crane their necks like prairie dogs when any butterface under 28 walks into the room, but not even turn their heads slightly when an average looking 40ish woman walks up to the bar next to them. I just didn't expect it to happen to me so soon! I've always been tiny, moderately cute, with big boobs and a big smile. I've never been "hot", but I've always been kind of cute. It's not like I ever had guys swarming around me or fighting to buy me a drink, but I've grown accustomed to being overtly and covertly checked out. Yeah, so, not anymore, I guess.
Yesterday was Jackie's last day. As if that wasn't sucktacular enough, last night I had to go for drinks & dinner with the obnoxious VP, two of the Directors (yes, one of them is this guy and no, THANKFULLY, one of them *wasn't* this one), the head of HR, my boss and Jackie. The word excruciating is too mild. Christ on a cracker! Do you think executive-types have any idea how preposterously self-important they sound? Do you think they listen to each other and think "Oh man, I can totally top your self-involved, self-congratulatory boring-ass story!"?
::Tangent::
A couple months ago the VP held a "Come to Jesus" meeting with the staff and reminded them of the economy and how important it is to make the office more efficient and blah, blah, blah. He cut the shit out of the supply order budget and eliminated non-essential things like raises (ok, so technically Corporate put the kibosh on raises, but it makes my rant sound better if it came from him directly, so, deal with it) and employee relations stuff like parties and the summer picnic. Everyone was fairly supportive because no one wants to lose their job because we were buying too many highlighters and scotch tape, so the belt-tightening didn't elicit much complaint or whining from the normally whiny staff. Last night, the VP & his gang of ass-kissers are talking about redecorating the Executive Conference Room. "You know, really making it the centerpiece of the office. When execs and management from other offices come to town, we should be able to represent ourselves with a Grade A conference room that reflects our professionalism." Really, dude? How do you think that's gonna' go over with the $11/hour employees who can't order fucking paperclips? Do you think they're not going to notice that the summer picnic isn't being held in the shiny new Executive Conference Room? Whatever. Shit like this is why everyone hates you, jerkface.
::End Tangent::
Sorry, sorry, sorry - got off track a bit. Anyway, the restaurant we went to for drinks is a swanky little place near our office downtown. It was early when we got there, 4:00ish. By 5:15 or so, the place was full of people. Predominantly men people. Business men. Button down shirts, ties, polished shoes. I'm going to guess mostly between the ages of 26 - 36. They stood in groups of 4 or 5 and all had some sort of product in their hair. In the days of yore, this would be exactly my crowd of mens. I do not like scruffy. I do not like sloppy. I do not like shaggy. I enjoy a man in a pressed shirt & tie, wearing dress slacks with a cuff. I make pretty good money and frankly, I prefer being with a guy who does too and doesn't need me to pay for the whole pizza because he "doesn't get paid until next Thursday and I gotta' get my car out of the shop, so I only have $3.67 in change until then. You don't mind, do ya' babe? I promise I'll pay you back next week and by the way, can you loan me a few bucks for smokes?" No...just, no.
Most days after work, I look busted. BUH-STED. I'm not even gonna' try to deny it. However, because I knew I had to attend this shindig from Hell, instead of tennis shoes & an "I give up and don't care anymore" baggy, non-cleavagy top, I wore a fitted, summery blouse with my jeans & heels. I even put on colored lip gloss, which I rarely wear and added an extra dab of concealer to my woefully dark under eye circles. I looked cute, but not at all whoreish. (YES, I'm getting to the point. Shut-up!) During the pre-dinner drinks, I probably went to the ladies' room 4 times (A. As previously mentioned, my bladder is the size of a walnut and B. Sometimes I just needed to get the fuck away from their incessant blathering for a few minutes). On my way to and from the powder room, I came into contact with approximately 23 men. Not one looked at me. Not ONE. Not a single guy smiled at me or nodded "hello" or even bothered to get the hell out of my way. I had to squeeze past 2 who wouldn't even acknowledge my existence enough to move a half-step to their side to let me pass them.
I'm not sure how I feel about this. Again, please understand, it's not like men were crawling all over me when I was younger, I don't mean to give that impression, but to be practically invisible is a brand-spanking new phenomenon to me. It makes me sad that this is the rest of my life from now on. I have officially become an old broad. The kind that "still looks pretty good for her age" or the one that "was probably smokin' when she was young". And unless I dress like a slutty Cougar or start hanging out where they serve an Early Bird Special, I don't think there's really much I can do about it. Blerg.
Do any of you have a grandpa you want to hook me up with?
Yesterday was Jackie's last day. As if that wasn't sucktacular enough, last night I had to go for drinks & dinner with the obnoxious VP, two of the Directors (yes, one of them is this guy and no, THANKFULLY, one of them *wasn't* this one), the head of HR, my boss and Jackie. The word excruciating is too mild. Christ on a cracker! Do you think executive-types have any idea how preposterously self-important they sound? Do you think they listen to each other and think "Oh man, I can totally top your self-involved, self-congratulatory boring-ass story!"?
::Tangent::
A couple months ago the VP held a "Come to Jesus" meeting with the staff and reminded them of the economy and how important it is to make the office more efficient and blah, blah, blah. He cut the shit out of the supply order budget and eliminated non-essential things like raises (ok, so technically Corporate put the kibosh on raises, but it makes my rant sound better if it came from him directly, so, deal with it) and employee relations stuff like parties and the summer picnic. Everyone was fairly supportive because no one wants to lose their job because we were buying too many highlighters and scotch tape, so the belt-tightening didn't elicit much complaint or whining from the normally whiny staff. Last night, the VP & his gang of ass-kissers are talking about redecorating the Executive Conference Room. "You know, really making it the centerpiece of the office. When execs and management from other offices come to town, we should be able to represent ourselves with a Grade A conference room that reflects our professionalism." Really, dude? How do you think that's gonna' go over with the $11/hour employees who can't order fucking paperclips? Do you think they're not going to notice that the summer picnic isn't being held in the shiny new Executive Conference Room? Whatever. Shit like this is why everyone hates you, jerkface.
::End Tangent::
Sorry, sorry, sorry - got off track a bit. Anyway, the restaurant we went to for drinks is a swanky little place near our office downtown. It was early when we got there, 4:00ish. By 5:15 or so, the place was full of people. Predominantly men people. Business men. Button down shirts, ties, polished shoes. I'm going to guess mostly between the ages of 26 - 36. They stood in groups of 4 or 5 and all had some sort of product in their hair. In the days of yore, this would be exactly my crowd of mens. I do not like scruffy. I do not like sloppy. I do not like shaggy. I enjoy a man in a pressed shirt & tie, wearing dress slacks with a cuff. I make pretty good money and frankly, I prefer being with a guy who does too and doesn't need me to pay for the whole pizza because he "doesn't get paid until next Thursday and I gotta' get my car out of the shop, so I only have $3.67 in change until then. You don't mind, do ya' babe? I promise I'll pay you back next week and by the way, can you loan me a few bucks for smokes?" No...just, no.
Most days after work, I look busted. BUH-STED. I'm not even gonna' try to deny it. However, because I knew I had to attend this shindig from Hell, instead of tennis shoes & an "I give up and don't care anymore" baggy, non-cleavagy top, I wore a fitted, summery blouse with my jeans & heels. I even put on colored lip gloss, which I rarely wear and added an extra dab of concealer to my woefully dark under eye circles. I looked cute, but not at all whoreish. (YES, I'm getting to the point. Shut-up!) During the pre-dinner drinks, I probably went to the ladies' room 4 times (A. As previously mentioned, my bladder is the size of a walnut and B. Sometimes I just needed to get the fuck away from their incessant blathering for a few minutes). On my way to and from the powder room, I came into contact with approximately 23 men. Not one looked at me. Not ONE. Not a single guy smiled at me or nodded "hello" or even bothered to get the hell out of my way. I had to squeeze past 2 who wouldn't even acknowledge my existence enough to move a half-step to their side to let me pass them.
I'm not sure how I feel about this. Again, please understand, it's not like men were crawling all over me when I was younger, I don't mean to give that impression, but to be practically invisible is a brand-spanking new phenomenon to me. It makes me sad that this is the rest of my life from now on. I have officially become an old broad. The kind that "still looks pretty good for her age" or the one that "was probably smokin' when she was young". And unless I dress like a slutty Cougar or start hanging out where they serve an Early Bird Special, I don't think there's really much I can do about it. Blerg.
Do any of you have a grandpa you want to hook me up with?
Sunday, May 24, 2009
What's the Opposite of Exciting? This Blog!
Oh HIII! You're still coming here and reading? But I haven't posted anything interesting in... ummm, honestly, I don't know if I've ever actually posted anything *interesting*, but I haven't even posted boring crap in forever. I will remedy that now. Please be prepared to be DAZZLED (or bored. Probably bored...)
Here's the lowdown nitty gritty fun facts from my life, in no particular order.
I got to go to a Cleveland Cavaliers playoff game a few weeks ago. It was also the game where LeBron James was awarded the league MVP award, which is a huge deal here in Cleveland. I've never been to a professional basketball game because a) I didn't really like basketball and b) I didn't really like basketball.
Turns out, when LeBron Motherfucking James is on your basketball team, the game is kind of fun to watch! Also, when your dad knows rich people and gets tickets in a loge suite, it's super fun to watch! If you haven't attended a sporting event or concert in a loge suite, I recommend it. It's like a small hotel room without the beds. There's a wet bar, an ice maker, mini fridge stocked with sodas, beer and water, couches, 3 TVs, and really nice, deep seats where you're not sitting on top of other people & you can either watch the action on the court or on the GINORMOUS FLAME-SHOOTING JUMBOTRON right in front of your face. Oooh, plus? They bring you food. It's like having room service. But the BEST part? It has its own bathroom! Since I have the bladder of a small child and pee every 11 minutes (give or take a minute or two), this is like the best thing ever! No waiting in line. No sitting on a wet toilet seat. No walking up & down 50 million stairs to get to the bathroom. It's just right there in the room. Suh-weet. From this experience I have learned a couple of valuable life lessons:
1 - It's much easier to like a sport when your team is winning
2 - I would very much enjoy being super rich one day
I'm going to look into how to do that just as soon as I get done watching the teevee and writing this here breathtaking blog post.
Speaking of blog entries, it's my one-year anniversary of blogging. WHOOPIE!!! Yeah, not really WHOOPIE so much as, wow, time somehow manages to both fly and drag at the same time. I can't believe it's already been a year and yet, I can't believe it's only been a year, ya know? Anyway, the point is, you guys have helped me SO much this past year. Just knowing that you're here and that you care or are really good at pretending you care, has meant a lot to me. Thank you!
Next on today's agenda - Jackie got married last weekend. I was planning to attend the reception with Eric, our Manager of Finance. I asked him to go because he's really funny & we get along well, he knows Jackie and I thought we would have a good time since it wouldn't be a "date". This had been the plan for a month and a half or two months. He sent me a text 20 minutes before I was supposed to leave saying that he was really sorry, but he wasn't going to be able to make it. What the hell is wrong with people? I wouldn't have given a shit if he would have said "no" when I first asked him. I wouldn't have given a shit if he'd canceled the week before. Hell, I probably wouldn't have given a shit if he'd backed out the night before, but don't send me a TEXT 20 minutes before I walk out the door. That's just rude. And pussyish. Luckily, there was a very amusing woman at my table who reminded me of a cross between Tina Fey & Megan Mullally, so I still had a good time even though I didn't know anyone other than Jackie. It's been a week and Eric still hasn't offered an explanation of why he flaked. Dude, are you retarded? Don't piss off HR! That's just common knowledge.
Speaking of the Jackster, she'll be back from her honeymoon this week and then she'll be leaving us. Her last day is Friday and I've been looking over resumes (approximately 300 of them; I'm not even exaggerating) to find a new recruiter. It's exhausting! I'll probably whine about this more next week. YAY for you!!
Alrighty then. I've bored the crap out of myself, so my job here is done. Oh, one last thing - because I've kind of become a bit obsessed with basketball (fine, I'm a bit obsessed with LeBron. Seriously you guys, I want to do dirty things to him) here is the clip I've been watching over and over. Enjoy!
Here's the lowdown nitty gritty fun facts from my life, in no particular order.
I got to go to a Cleveland Cavaliers playoff game a few weeks ago. It was also the game where LeBron James was awarded the league MVP award, which is a huge deal here in Cleveland. I've never been to a professional basketball game because a) I didn't really like basketball and b) I didn't really like basketball.
Turns out, when LeBron Motherfucking James is on your basketball team, the game is kind of fun to watch! Also, when your dad knows rich people and gets tickets in a loge suite, it's super fun to watch! If you haven't attended a sporting event or concert in a loge suite, I recommend it. It's like a small hotel room without the beds. There's a wet bar, an ice maker, mini fridge stocked with sodas, beer and water, couches, 3 TVs, and really nice, deep seats where you're not sitting on top of other people & you can either watch the action on the court or on the GINORMOUS FLAME-SHOOTING JUMBOTRON right in front of your face. Oooh, plus? They bring you food. It's like having room service. But the BEST part? It has its own bathroom! Since I have the bladder of a small child and pee every 11 minutes (give or take a minute or two), this is like the best thing ever! No waiting in line. No sitting on a wet toilet seat. No walking up & down 50 million stairs to get to the bathroom. It's just right there in the room. Suh-weet. From this experience I have learned a couple of valuable life lessons:
1 - It's much easier to like a sport when your team is winning
2 - I would very much enjoy being super rich one day
I'm going to look into how to do that just as soon as I get done watching the teevee and writing this here breathtaking blog post.
Speaking of blog entries, it's my one-year anniversary of blogging. WHOOPIE!!! Yeah, not really WHOOPIE so much as, wow, time somehow manages to both fly and drag at the same time. I can't believe it's already been a year and yet, I can't believe it's only been a year, ya know? Anyway, the point is, you guys have helped me SO much this past year. Just knowing that you're here and that you care or are really good at pretending you care, has meant a lot to me. Thank you!
Next on today's agenda - Jackie got married last weekend. I was planning to attend the reception with Eric, our Manager of Finance. I asked him to go because he's really funny & we get along well, he knows Jackie and I thought we would have a good time since it wouldn't be a "date". This had been the plan for a month and a half or two months. He sent me a text 20 minutes before I was supposed to leave saying that he was really sorry, but he wasn't going to be able to make it. What the hell is wrong with people? I wouldn't have given a shit if he would have said "no" when I first asked him. I wouldn't have given a shit if he'd canceled the week before. Hell, I probably wouldn't have given a shit if he'd backed out the night before, but don't send me a TEXT 20 minutes before I walk out the door. That's just rude. And pussyish. Luckily, there was a very amusing woman at my table who reminded me of a cross between Tina Fey & Megan Mullally, so I still had a good time even though I didn't know anyone other than Jackie. It's been a week and Eric still hasn't offered an explanation of why he flaked. Dude, are you retarded? Don't piss off HR! That's just common knowledge.
Speaking of the Jackster, she'll be back from her honeymoon this week and then she'll be leaving us. Her last day is Friday and I've been looking over resumes (approximately 300 of them; I'm not even exaggerating) to find a new recruiter. It's exhausting! I'll probably whine about this more next week. YAY for you!!
Alrighty then. I've bored the crap out of myself, so my job here is done. Oh, one last thing - because I've kind of become a bit obsessed with basketball (fine, I'm a bit obsessed with LeBron. Seriously you guys, I want to do dirty things to him) here is the clip I've been watching over and over. Enjoy!
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Game, Set, Match.
The Biggest Douche Competition is over. It was a blowout.
Lainey - 1.5
Jackie - Eleventy Million
Jackie put in her 2 weeks notice today.
She accepted a job with the city. I can't blame her. It's a great job with awesome benefits, but it just breaks my heart into tiny pieces.
Lainey - 1.5
Jackie - Eleventy Million
Jackie put in her 2 weeks notice today.
She accepted a job with the city. I can't blame her. It's a great job with awesome benefits, but it just breaks my heart into tiny pieces.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Oh, It 's Already Been Broughten!
I I scheduled an interview for Friday. An interview with a most unsuitable candidate. (Not this unsuitable, because I'm not a monster!) Then I took Friday off. Jackie has to do the interview.
And to up the douche factor? I yelled BOO-YA after I told her.
Lainey - 1 (maybe 1.5)
Jackie - 1
On a related note - jamiepants was attending a fair at a community college and may have the opportunity to snag her very own Go Army FREEDOM Mug. I am tickled pink at the prospect of multiple FREEDOM Mugs circulating throughout the blogonets. Tickled pink!
And to up the douche factor? I yelled BOO-YA after I told her.
Lainey - 1 (maybe 1.5)
Jackie - 1
On a related note - jamiepants was attending a fair at a community college and may have the opportunity to snag her very own Go Army FREEDOM Mug. I am tickled pink at the prospect of multiple FREEDOM Mugs circulating throughout the blogonets. Tickled pink!
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
FREEDOM TASTES LIKE AMERICA!! And a little like gin.
First of all - I freakin' love all of you nutty nuts!
Second - I stole the title of this entry from Anna von Beaverplatz. Thank you, AvB for being awesome and kind of a drunk.
Third - it is ON, bitches!
Jackie and I are fighting over the FREEDOM MUG now, so we decided we should have some type of competition and the winner would get the cup. Our boss suggested we write an essay on "What Freedom Means To Me" because she is LAME and a nerd and apparently thinks we're 9 and she's our teacher. After Jackie and I both crushed her spirit with our withering looks, we decided that whoever is the biggest douche (without being a truly rotten person) wins the coveted cup.
Jackie made the first move. On her way out, while I was stuck on a conference call, she stopped in my office & sang the "B is bananas, B-A-N-A-N-A-S" song, thereby infecting me with a most heinous earworm. Evil!
Jackie - 1
Lainey - 0
Help me, evil geniuses - I need ideas for pummeling her. I WANT THAT CUP!
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Army Had Half-Day Today
Tidbits from the Job Fair:
Our booth was next to the Army's. There were two guys manning their booth. One was smiley and kind of quiet, the other? Eww. Picture the most obnoxious guy you can think of at the gym, drinking his "Rockstar Monster Energy Drink" or whatever the hell it is, flexing in front of the mirror and yelling "BOO-YAHHH" after every set (or rep. I don't know what it's called. It's not like I hang out in gyms).
So, Jackie and I are sitting at our booth, waiting for the applicants to be let in and Douchey McArmy starts chatting us up. Within 11 seconds I was finished even pretending to listen. Jackie is more patient than I am and definitely better at hiding her annoyance. About 45 minutes in, Douchey walks over and (loudly) says, "Jesus Christ, where'd they find these idiots?" Nice, dude. Then he says to Jackie, "There's a bunch of what we like to call, 'UCI's' here", to which Jackie replied, "UCI's?" and he sneers, "Unqualified Inquiries", obviously pleased with himself. Jackie gave him a perplexed look and said, "Um, why is that called a UCI"? He pulls himself up to his full douchetude and says, "UCI - UN QUALIFIED INQUIRY". Jackie says, "yeah, but, where's the 'c' coming from"? He looks at her like she's the most retarded person he's talked to all day and says, "UN QUALI...oh, um, haa...I I don't know, now that you mention it." DURRRR. Ass.
Later, while there was a lull, he crouched down next to Jackie and presented her with a Go Army coffee mug. Evidently, Jackie didn't show the appropriate amount of gratitude because he then lectured her on the VALUE of a mug from the UNITED STATES ARMY and "when you drink your coffee from that cup, YOU'RE DRINKING FREEDOM, TOO!" Jackie doesn't respond well to raised voices and tends to take it personally. He continued to natter on and eventually wound up the one-sided conversation with, "I'm not even sure why they selected me to do this. It's not like I'm the most personable guy" to which Jackie replies, "At least you know your weaknesses!"
He stopped coming by after that. Haa, I love her!
Our booth was next to the Army's. There were two guys manning their booth. One was smiley and kind of quiet, the other? Eww. Picture the most obnoxious guy you can think of at the gym, drinking his "Rockstar Monster Energy Drink" or whatever the hell it is, flexing in front of the mirror and yelling "BOO-YAHHH" after every set (or rep. I don't know what it's called. It's not like I hang out in gyms).
So, Jackie and I are sitting at our booth, waiting for the applicants to be let in and Douchey McArmy starts chatting us up. Within 11 seconds I was finished even pretending to listen. Jackie is more patient than I am and definitely better at hiding her annoyance. About 45 minutes in, Douchey walks over and (loudly) says, "Jesus Christ, where'd they find these idiots?" Nice, dude. Then he says to Jackie, "There's a bunch of what we like to call, 'UCI's' here", to which Jackie replied, "UCI's?" and he sneers, "Unqualified Inquiries", obviously pleased with himself. Jackie gave him a perplexed look and said, "Um, why is that called a UCI"? He pulls himself up to his full douchetude and says, "UCI - UN QUALIFIED INQUIRY". Jackie says, "yeah, but, where's the 'c' coming from"? He looks at her like she's the most retarded person he's talked to all day and says, "UN QUALI...oh, um, haa...I I don't know, now that you mention it." DURRRR. Ass.
Later, while there was a lull, he crouched down next to Jackie and presented her with a Go Army coffee mug. Evidently, Jackie didn't show the appropriate amount of gratitude because he then lectured her on the VALUE of a mug from the UNITED STATES ARMY and "when you drink your coffee from that cup, YOU'RE DRINKING FREEDOM, TOO!" Jackie doesn't respond well to raised voices and tends to take it personally. He continued to natter on and eventually wound up the one-sided conversation with, "I'm not even sure why they selected me to do this. It's not like I'm the most personable guy" to which Jackie replies, "At least you know your weaknesses!"
He stopped coming by after that. Haa, I love her!
Monday, June 9, 2008
Come play with us, Danny...
This story made me pee a little when I heard it today, I’m not even gonna’ lie! I laughed so hard at this poor girl’s pain.
We hired a new recruiter last month. Her name is Jackie. She. Is. Awesome! LOOOOVVVE her already. Anyway, Jackie has a twin sister. This doesn’t come up often, but every now and then it’s relevant. Like in this story. So, Jackie hired a girl and was a little apprehensive about it because this young lady’s twin sister already works for us. Jackie is telling my boss and me that the reason she has a hinky feeling is because they’re “the kind of twins who do everything together. Their resumes are almost identical. Their voices sound the same. They dress similarly and style their hair the same way. You know, the kind of twins like from The Shining”. We all nodded in agreement and voiced our irritation with parents who treat twins like one entity, blah, blah, blah. I asked her if her mother had ever dressed her and her twin alike. She looked down and said, “not after The Incident”.
“Oh, DO tell, Jackie!”
“When we were 4, my parents took us to Disneyworld. One afternoon, Mom took me on some rides and Dad took my sister and we were all going to meet up together at the hotel at the end of the day. My mom and I got back to the hotel lobby and I saw my sister on the other side of the room. I was so excited to see her because we usually weren’t apart for so long and I had so many things to tell her that I went BOUNDING across the lobby to hug her.
And then I smacked full force into the mirror.”
Hahahahahaha!!! *snort* Oh my! The mental image of this poor child sprinting across the room to hug her beloved twin, slamming into her own freaking reflection and it being witnessed by a lobby full of people. Oooohhhh, good times, good times.
We hired a new recruiter last month. Her name is Jackie. She. Is. Awesome! LOOOOVVVE her already. Anyway, Jackie has a twin sister. This doesn’t come up often, but every now and then it’s relevant. Like in this story. So, Jackie hired a girl and was a little apprehensive about it because this young lady’s twin sister already works for us. Jackie is telling my boss and me that the reason she has a hinky feeling is because they’re “the kind of twins who do everything together. Their resumes are almost identical. Their voices sound the same. They dress similarly and style their hair the same way. You know, the kind of twins like from The Shining”. We all nodded in agreement and voiced our irritation with parents who treat twins like one entity, blah, blah, blah. I asked her if her mother had ever dressed her and her twin alike. She looked down and said, “not after The Incident”.
“Oh, DO tell, Jackie!”
“When we were 4, my parents took us to Disneyworld. One afternoon, Mom took me on some rides and Dad took my sister and we were all going to meet up together at the hotel at the end of the day. My mom and I got back to the hotel lobby and I saw my sister on the other side of the room. I was so excited to see her because we usually weren’t apart for so long and I had so many things to tell her that I went BOUNDING across the lobby to hug her.
And then I smacked full force into the mirror.”
Hahahahahaha!!! *snort* Oh my! The mental image of this poor child sprinting across the room to hug her beloved twin, slamming into her own freaking reflection and it being witnessed by a lobby full of people. Oooohhhh, good times, good times.
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