I’d just heard that the Missus had been diverted and was AWOL somewhere in France. She should have been in Poitier, but fog caused a diversion. My mind was elsewhere when I received a phonecall from RB, a man to whom I had applied for the position of Technical Writer – writing and compiling instruction manuals. Getting the call, you immediately begin to think that maybe an interview might come out of it, but at the back of my mind I didn’t like the tone of voice Mr B was adopting. From his voice, I deduced that he was a cocksure cunt and I soon realised that no job was forthcoming. He asked me about my experience of heavy machinery. Of course, I had none and said so adding that I was an adaptable worker and willing to learn about his products. But no, Mr B wasn’t having any of it and explained that he was looking for someone who had an engineering apprenticeship and wasn’t taking my application any further. With that, I thanked him for his time and ended the call. Well excuse me for applying, Mr B, but you asked for someone who could write, research and compile instruction manuals and I believe I can do that. His job advert should have said “Engineer Wanted – Will be Required to Write”.
Oh well, it’s the first time I’ve ever got a job rejection live and direct over the telephone and let me tell you this, I’ve had way over 300+ job rejections. (When I went through my first period of unemployment in the 1990s, I kept all my correspondence and it totalled well over 200 rejections). I thought getting a rejection letter was deflating, but being told over the phone that you aren’t good enough is positively demoralising. Oh well…what can you do about it, eh?
Later on, The Missus called and told me of her journey from Hell, being taken to a different airport, getting a bus to Poitier airport and then getting the train to her destination, arriving so late that she couldn’t make dinner with the clients she was interviewing. Why put yourself through this nonsense, I say? Stay at home…it’s less stressful.

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