The Next Sound You Hear

... will be the sound of shit hitting the fan.

Let's start with the interview, shall we? I smoked it. I KILLED. Aces. It was a slam dunk, babydoll. In fact, my application did so much of the work for me that the actual interview was little more than an afterthought. I went there early, they saw me right in, I got the general tour of the building, talked to the guy, and he said it was pretty much mine for the taking if I wanted it. So I told him I would take it. The only thing he was worried about was that it would be a drop in money, so he thought I might not be interested for that reason. Of course, I figured I'd probably have to start at the bottom and work up, but at least there is an up I can work towards, compared to the total dead-end I'm at with my current job. So I told him, Look as long as you're telling me there's opporutnity for advancement and such that's all I really need to hear today.

There's nothing signed in blood yet, so I have the weekend to mull this over. I have alternate possible job options, too. I'm not a put all my eggs into one basket sort of person (except with chicks, but that's another story). There's still Hypertherm and Dartmouth-Hitchcock to look into, among other things. Just being out there and looking feels very very good. Besides, they're doing my background check so I won't know anything for certain about this place for another week.

Today, though, Jen and I ruined Sue's day but good. We worked this out last night, the how we'd do it, because I just decided that I owed Sue one (or five) for times in the past where she'd wrecked me with a stupid, careless comment after I'd been busting my ass. I wanted to ruin her day. I wanted to instill a little fear, too.

I'll tell you the story.

9:00 break. Jen is a smoker--trying to quit, but a smoker nonetheless. So she was out in the smoking area. Sue is also a smoker, so she was there. I went out to my car to retrieve a change of clothes, a touch I improvised this morning, to give me a logical excuse to be out there. Then I walked back towards the building while passing the smoking area.

In a nice bit of irony, Sue said, "Well, Shaun is all ready to leave." Jen and I made eye contact, and I said, "Yes. Yes I am." Taken out of context, that was kinda hilarious.

This is the good part.

I'm standing there for a second and Jen says, "You're going to call me, right? As soon as you're done with your interview?"

"You'll be the first person I call. Then my mom."

Then I went inside. Jen followed a few minutes later. Apparently, there was no outward reaction. Jen: "She's a tough nut to crack, huh?" "Told you. But don't worry, the message was put across."

No more than fifteen minutes later, Skip came by the press and told me that oh ho boy Sue was more than a little upset. It had gone from Sue to Skip to me, right like clockwork. So I told him what I'd done. Skip, Starr, and June have all been in on this anyway. I'm trying to get Starr out of there when I go, too, kind of like what Guinevere and I did with the kitchen when we left there. Same idea.

Jen didn't know about this yet, so I went into turn-on where she was and said, "We'll call that a line drive past the shortstop into the outfield."

So I'm the turncoat, even though Sue did wish me luck ... and then passive-aggressivley tried to talk me out of going anywhere. And Jen is the evil bitch that came in, corrupted me, and talked me into leaving. Sue is looking at a big gaping hole in her production floor. The department is descending into complete chaos. And it's pretty much all our fault.

Good week. Very good week.