Working Girl

It happened like this. I was preparing for our vacation the day before we left. I’d been running errands all day, dashing hither, hopping yon, and it was a hot day so I was in lime green shorts, a black tee shirt, and a fine layer of sweat.

I’d just gotten back from my umpteenth shopping trip when the phone rang. It was a very good friend of mine. Here’s how the conversation went down.

“Hi Christine. Do you still need a job?”

“Um. Yeah. I guess so.” (Wary – I love my girlfriend, but sometimes…)

“Then take down this number. Call him right now. He needs someone right away as his secretary is retiring.”

Now my brain is kicking in gear. “Where are they, what do they do, how much do they pay, yada yada?”

“They’re in my building, five geologists who deal with water,  $XX, and they’re all really nice guys. They’d be thrilled to have someone like you.”

Decision time. Even with a broken leg, I do need a job and I don’t want to go back to retail.

“Give me the number. By the way, I have a broken leg.”

*shrieks* *gives me the number* “Call RIGHT NOW.”

“Okay, okay. I’m calling.” I hang up. Sheesh. It’s two-something on a hot Friday afternoon. After fortifying myself with a cup of coffee, I call the number and am soon connected.

“Hi. My name is Christine, and my friend T. told me to call you about a job opening.”

“Wow Christine. I just got back upstairs from talking to her.”

*Cut – we did a lot of jabbering about the job, and about my quals. I tell him about the broken leg, and that I’m going on vacation the next day, but if he wants to see me this afternoon I’d come down, lime green shorts, sweat and all. He agrees.*

So I print out the resume, wash my face, and head on out. To Studio City. A 40 minute drive.  Once I get there, I can see what my friend meant when she said it was a cozy place – a smattering of offices, conference room, tiny kitchen and bathrooms. Barely big enough to swing a cat in, but still, nice with a buzz of busy.

The interview goes well. What REALLY makes my day are the huge empty wine bottles (jeraboam (sp) size, I think) scattered around the office. We knock off all the important stuff about the job and then settle into a wine discussion, and one about chocolate, and how every now and then he has “seminars” on Friday afternoons involving cheese, crackers, and one bottle of wine shared out amongst whomever is in the office…

When I left, we were mutually delighted with each other. While I was on vacation, I heard from my references that they’d been contacted that Monday; on Tuesday I received a call asking me to come in on Monday the 15th for a second interview. My girlfriend T told me to be prepared to stay all day.

Upshot? I walked in Monday, we zipped through all the info, he made me a job offer, and I started working that same morning. As day jobs go, I landed a beauty.

I haven’t had a steady, 8-5, M-F job since – Um…2001??? BEFORE I became a writer. The challenge now will be grabbing the time to write, and not letting that part of my life just slip away. It means too much to me now.

I guess I need to study for my Super Writer Powers of Time Manipulation…

Tomorrow is Friday, so another wine blog is coming your way. Cheers all, and remember – drink responsibly!