The Applicant

applicant 1by Day-dreamy Philly…

The story that follows is something I always wanted to do.

I always wanted to apply for a job and during the interview, really speak my mind. You know, like in the movie Office Space. Or just just let ‘em have it, like on Seinfeld when George decided to do the opposite thing. For me, I wasn’t doing any opposite thing, it just so happens this time I had nothing to lose.

The thing is, I had just signed my first book deal: one million dollars. That’s right, I was never going to have to work another office job again. But it had always been a fantasy of mine to at least once go into a job interview and let ‘em have it, speak my mind.

It might have been a waste of time, but it was dream of mine for as long as I could remember; and besides, I had a million bucks now, no job, and nothing but time on my hand. Haven’t you been paying attention?

So there I was at the offices of Dumas & Dung, an international conglomerate that published several financial magazines, all of which no one really read, and even less understood.

It seems there was an opening for a copywriter position, so I sent in my resume. My interview was with this young prick right out of college, Denver Community College. Community college? WTF?

Anyway, so there I was sitting in front is young snot nose not even half my age. Did this kid know I went to some of the best schools on the eastern seaboard? Did he have a clue I had just signed with a major publishing house? Did he know he had a piece of toilet paper stuck to the bottom of his show? I doubt it.

“So,” this little prick begins, “Mr. Genius.”

“That’s Genus,” I said.

“Right. So, Mr, Genus, tell me why you think you would be a good fit for our magazine.”

“I don’t.”

“Excuse me.”

“I don’t think I’d be a good fit. In fact, I don’t even know which magazine I’m applying for, or even what I’d be doing. You’re ad neglected to mention either of these things.”

“I see. But you do know we published a line of financial magazines.”


So, with that in mind, why do you think you would be a good fit here?”

“I don’t.”

“I see.”

“No, I don’t think you do. Have you even read my resume? I write fiction, stories about how big fat corporations just like this one are a total sham. How the people who work here are no smarter than a horse’s ass, and sometimes even dumber than that.”

“I see.”

“I mean, how old are you? I’m guessing the first time I dropped acid, you were still diapers. The first time I got laid, you weren’t even a thought yet.”

“I see.”

“You publish senseless drivel that nobody understands and even if they did, they’d have no use for it. It’s all just a masquerade. The pages of your magazine are just window dressing. I bet if I looked behind that wall, I’d find a Hollywood set.”

“I see.”

“No,” I said, “I don’t think you do.”

And then this young whippersnapper, as dumb and as A.D.D. as he must be, surprised the heck out of me by leaning forward in his chair and saying to me, “But I do. I do see.

“You see, Mr. Genus, the truth is—this being honesty day, and all—I couldn’t hire you even if I wanted to. You’re just too damn intelligent. You’re just too damn awesome. Besides, with an intellect like yours, even if I did hire you, it wouldn’t be long until you took a walk.”


“You see, my job here is to hire younger, dumber people than yourself. We get ‘em young and we get ‘em cheap. The kids we hire, we have to be sure they’ve got no other options, that way we got ‘em by the balls. Get it?”

I did. I did get it.

“So you see, as much as I respect your insight, and as much as I respect your candor, I could never hire you, not even if I wanted to”

“So why did you take my application?”

“Well, to be honest, my bonuses are based on the number of applicants I see, not how many people I actually hire. So I’ll see just about anyone. Hiring them, now that’s another matter altogether.”

“I see,” I said, and I did.

“Well then, Mr. Genius,” he said, standing up and outstretching his hand, “I want to thank you for coming in. Good luck with your job search, and have a wonderful day.”

“Oh, okay,” I said. “Thank you.” I left in somewhat of a daze. That little fucker had just ruined my day. I think.

Of course, that never happened. Like I said, it’s something I always wanted to do. I never said I actually did it. Just one of the many daydreams I have these days sitting around the house doing nothing, just me and my million bucks.

The only thing is, I never dreamt of it ending quite like that. But it did confirm something. All those job applications I put in for all those years, all those jobs I never got, now I knew why. I was just too damn fucking intelligent. I was just too damn fucking awesome. It all made perfect sense now.


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