The application for the assistant
to the assistant vice departmental pseudo—
managerial position at
the Super-Sized Super-Savings Hardware Super Store
has five blank lines at the very end of it,
asking for the applicant’s
hobbies and interests.
Outside the store, hanging,
is a football field sized banner advertising—
SUPER-SIZED SUPER-SAVINGS HARDWARE SUPER STORE!
MORE TOOLS FOR LESS MONEY THAN ANYONE ANYWHERE EVER!
ALL IN ONE SUPER-STORE THE SUPER-SIZE OF SIBERIA!
NOW HIRING!! ALL SHIFTS! ALL POSITIONS! DAYS! NIGHTS!
Now hiring?
sounds good enough for me—
Super.
Inside the Human Resources office sits
the suit,
behind a desk and a computer
with a stack of applications that other people
have already filled out.
I see the bottom five lines on all the others
filled with writing—
sharp jagged slanting chicken scratch
script.
long bubbly looping loose curling
calligraphy.
heavy deep leaning psychopathic
print—
five lines of hobbies and interests
all brimming with writing and filled to bursting.
The suit hands me an application
of my own.
I begin—
and the first ninety percent
I fill out just fine.
I know I’m a male.
I know when I was born.
I know my own name.
I know I’m not a Pacific Islander.
I know I’ve been to school.
(though I’d like to forget.)
I know all the jobs that I’ve had.
I know all the jobs that I’ve had.
(though I’d like to forget those too.)
Then I get down to the five lines—
hobbies and interests.
O.K.—
reading, writing, poetry
and literature—
hmm…
those sound like four of the same thing.
Cross out literature and put
painting instead.
Reading, writing, poetry and painting.
Wait a minute—
when I hand this to the suit
first he’ll smirk
(if he bothers to read it at all)
and then he’ll think I’m kidding—
Who?
You? he’ll say.
he’ll think I’m a wise-ass,
or worse the suit
will think I’m gay.
O.K.—
after Reading, Writing, Poetry and Painting
put Women—
yeah, Reading, Writing, Poetry, Painting
and Women.
That sounds good.
No…no…it doesn’t.
Women?
What does that even mean?
One of my interests is…
Women?
That makes no sense.
I’m not a gynecologist
or a feminist, really,
at least no one has ever confused
me for Gloria Steinem.
O.K.—
let’s rethink this.
Honestly is the best policy,
keep it simple, stupid.
I’ll just be honest,
cross it all out
and start over again.
My interests are—
Reading, Writing, Poetry, Painting
and…and…and…
Sleeping
and…and…and…
Drinking
and…and…and…
Fantasizing about women?
No, that’s no good,
cross that last one out.
My interests are—
Reading, Writing, Poetry, Painting, Sleeping, Drinking
and…and…and…
Sports?
How about,
watching sports on TV?
Yeah,
that sounds good.
My hobbies and interests are—
Reading, Writing, Poetry, Painting,
Sleeping, Drinking, and Watching Sports on TV.
Excuse me,
I say to the suit.
He looks at me from his desk—
Can I have another application?
I ask.
I messed this one up.
He hands me another from his stack.
I fill out ninety percent of this one
and leave the last five lines
blank.
~Mike
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