Wednesday, October 19, 2005 - Baseball with Grandpa Munster

I went for my eighth job interview this morning, the job is selling chemicals for the petro-chemical, plastics & coatings industry, a definite step backwards in my so called career as it will mean going from management,  where I travelled in Asia & Europe, to a general US sales position, but it does offer some potential.

As I sat opposite the gentleman who interviewed me I pondered a couple of things, one was that the last four letters of his 8 letter surname was Mr. 'P**lanus'. I carefully considered what the correct pronunciation would be taking the the last four letters into consideration?!?!

The other thing that niggled at me as he sat explaining the company, was who he looked like?  He bore an uncanny resemblence to someone who I could not quite put my finger on at first........then it suddenly dawned on me, it's Grandpa Munster from the old Munsters TV series, as he continued in his speech the Munsters theme tune played in my head in synch to the movements of his mouth. 

 He went on to further divulge that one of the ' perks' of the job was taking clients to the Los Angeles Dodgers baseball games on occasion. I chuckled inwardly to myself, since I do not like or even understand the sport I debated with myself  wether it was a perk to sit at a baseball game with Grandpa Munster, while the Munsters theme tune continued to play in my cranium.

After further discussions, questions etc. Grandpa Munster gave me a print-out of a 'Kolbe index' personality test which I have to take on-line,  which means he will now find out I am actually a sarcastic,  insane, sociopath and not offer me the job anyway.

 On the way home I got a little lost while trying to find the freeway, while stopped at a red light a pretty hispanic girl crossed at the crosswalk. I beeped my horn and  said ' Excuse me' in a quite loud voice as the girl passed about 4 feet in front of my car, the girl stared straight ahead, continuing to cross while refusing to make eye-contact. I shouted one more time, to no avail.

 I then noticed she was wearing skin tight gym-type workout leggings, her nervous body language suggested that she presumed I was trying to pick her up rather than innocently ask for directions to the freeway.

I felt like shouting " I'm not  a rapist, I just need  directions to the  fucking freeway!!"......... but I thought it best not to.  I  then continued to oggle her nice round ass and firm  looking thighs as she disappeared across the street, since that was what I was being  silently accused of anyway!!