Last night I had the darndest dream: I met James Bond! Or maybe it was Sean Connery? Or both? Dreams are weird. Anyway, he'd retired from the spy business and was teaching at university — although I've no idea which university it was.
I was sent to Bond in order to find a job. Did I mention dreams are weird? So I knocked and entered his smallish office, where he was standing behind a desk shuffling papers and discussing appointments with his secretary. I put out my hand and said, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Bond." He briefly shook my hand while saying, "That's not necessary." (?) Gesturing me to a chair, he sat down behind the desk and said I could have the job if I wanted.
We then adjourned to his home, which was a rather modest older house located on a larger-than-average piece of residential property. After offering me a drink, he took me on a tour of the grounds; and it was then he revealed the nature of the job: maintenance! (Big deal, huh?) He wanted me to mow the lawn, pull the weeks, wash the windows, et cetera.
I immediately decided I'd sub-contract the work and become a lay-about, so I proceeded to interview people for the actual job of work. End of dream.
It rather reminded me of when I first attended the University of Oregon and took a one-day job offered by the university's student-employment office: I was to wash the windows on a professor's house.
:tounge2:
When I arrived at the work site, I was reluctantly greeted by the professor's wife — who was so condescending I wanted to vomit. I was, you see, a mere student!
Later, while I was at the top of a ladder replacing screens after washing the second-storey windows, a police officer came around the corner with his gun drawn: "Hold it right there!" he exclaimed. "Yeah, sure," I said (thinking it was some kind of joke). "No, I'm serious!" he quickly added. So I came down the ladder and went to the front door with him and his partner.
aranoid3
We rang the door bell three times before Mrs. High and Mighty Professor's Wife bothered to answer. She looked at me as though she'd no idea who I was or what the window-washing was all about. The police, who never once addressed me, told her a neighbor had called believing a break-in was in progress! The cops finally decided I wasn't a burglar and left, without so much as a "Pardon me!" — which I'd thought I'd earned after having a loaded gun pointed at me.
At least Professor Bond was nicer to this window washer than was the real-life university establishment!
=^..^=
I was sent to Bond in order to find a job. Did I mention dreams are weird? So I knocked and entered his smallish office, where he was standing behind a desk shuffling papers and discussing appointments with his secretary. I put out my hand and said, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Bond." He briefly shook my hand while saying, "That's not necessary." (?) Gesturing me to a chair, he sat down behind the desk and said I could have the job if I wanted.
We then adjourned to his home, which was a rather modest older house located on a larger-than-average piece of residential property. After offering me a drink, he took me on a tour of the grounds; and it was then he revealed the nature of the job: maintenance! (Big deal, huh?) He wanted me to mow the lawn, pull the weeks, wash the windows, et cetera.
I immediately decided I'd sub-contract the work and become a lay-about, so I proceeded to interview people for the actual job of work. End of dream.
It rather reminded me of when I first attended the University of Oregon and took a one-day job offered by the university's student-employment office: I was to wash the windows on a professor's house.
:tounge2:
When I arrived at the work site, I was reluctantly greeted by the professor's wife — who was so condescending I wanted to vomit. I was, you see, a mere student!
Later, while I was at the top of a ladder replacing screens after washing the second-storey windows, a police officer came around the corner with his gun drawn: "Hold it right there!" he exclaimed. "Yeah, sure," I said (thinking it was some kind of joke). "No, I'm serious!" he quickly added. So I came down the ladder and went to the front door with him and his partner.
aranoid3We rang the door bell three times before Mrs. High and Mighty Professor's Wife bothered to answer. She looked at me as though she'd no idea who I was or what the window-washing was all about. The police, who never once addressed me, told her a neighbor had called believing a break-in was in progress! The cops finally decided I wasn't a burglar and left, without so much as a "Pardon me!" — which I'd thought I'd earned after having a loaded gun pointed at me.
At least Professor Bond was nicer to this window washer than was the real-life university establishment!
=^..^=
