I got a call from a recruiter. She wanted me to come downtown and take a test for a job her company was considering me for.
The potential job was an hour commute EACH WAY via public transportation (and 8 bucks I might add). And it paid $25,000 less than the last job I had.
Me no like-y any of it.
And when I expressed my doubts to Hubby about not wanting to go to the testing, much less even wanting the JOB, he replied, “If you really don’t want the job, then wear a shirt to the testing that says: WILL STRIP FOR BEER.”
ME: “Great plan, Sweetie! But what if they call my bluff by handing me a Coors Light at the testing door?”
HIM: “Tell them that it isn’t actually your shirt. Tell them it’s your sister’s shirt and that you lost YOUR shirt at the bar last night.”
To the Potential Employer Who Made Me Do Testing the Likes of Which I Haven’t Seen Since I Graduated from College and Temp Agencies Made Me Take TYPING Tests: This isn’t MY shirt! It’s my sister’s. I lost MY shirt at the bar last night!!!