Andway wrote:Application does seem a bit thin. Try telling us a funny story about yourself, please. I get from your application that you seem a bit serious.
I'll wait for a reply from the applicant before I give my thumbsup/down.
Geeze ya'll know how to put a guy on the spot, eh?
Okay...humorous account...let me see if I have one.
Modo's day outModo, that's my RL nickname. Long story short...its a play on my dragon tattoos. Anyway...on to the humor.
I was a Land Man last year, working in southeastern Oklahoma doing field work. My field work consisted of going to county to county collecting information from the courthouses which I would then turn around and make a spreadsheet showing who owned mineral rights to oil & gas in the subject areas I was working on.
Well, the job consisted of alot of travel and being situated in one area for 4-9 months at a time. Suitcases, hotels, and crappy internet were the highlights of road living. The company I worked for reimbersed me for all expenses incurred, including living arrangements. Now me, being buisness savvy, thought..."Wow, I am shelling out 2000 a month for a hotel room, when I could rent a decent place and have alot of extras for the same money."
So off I went asking co-workers about any available rent houses or references. 'course, after a week I had a tip to a realtor that delt with short term leases. Having gathered all the appropriate information from my co-workers, I established that I knew the directions (hey, I am a guy...we have an expert sense of direction). The realtors office was..." across the street from KFC, and there is a Hair Salon next to it." Well, I knew the corner...I knew the KFC...so how hard can it be?
So I drive over to the corner. Yep, there's the KFC...and across the street is...a Hair Salon. Must be on the right path! I pull in and walk towards the office next to the Hair Salon. Hmmmm...people are painting in the office, but no one that is attached to the office seems to be in.
*What was it that co-worker said...oh right, the Realtor is married to the woman in the Hair Salon.*
Okay, so I walk past the vacant office thats getting a makeover, and walk into the Hair Salon. Oh...this is where I should prolly ellaborate...I do not really look like a local. I can prolly be closely summed up with a Biker look. Tight skull t-shirts, leather riding jacket, faded jeans and riding boots. Not really the local style of Wranglers and Chambrey. But I was in luck!!! The people in the Hair Salon are not locals either...and when I say not locals...I mean they are Asian...and speak broken english.
So I am now stuck...standing in the foyer of the Hair Salon asking for the owner. Finally a short older Asian woman comes up to me and asks what I need. I explain I am looking for this "Steve Bursheck"...(or what ever his name was) and was told his wife worked in the Hair Salon next door to his office.
She looks me up and down and shakes her head, "No...no Bursheck...12 dollar manicure...we fix you up...12 dollar manicure."
Now is where I admit, that yes...I am quiet and reserved, having used all of my loud and obnoxiousness up in my 20's. And just like the lil boyscout or brownie that catches me outside the local Walmarts peddling their cookie crack, I just feel rooted. I give them money out of a need to help, and the inability to say no. So I am looking at this lil ol Asian woman peddling me a 12 dollar manicure, and she has cut me (185 lbs of trained pummeling machine) off from the exit.
Finally with a shrug, I give in...heck 12 dollars is prolly cheap. So I sit with a woman that speaks one phrase..."How you?" Or that was her name...never really figured it out. Anyway...I sit there with all these other women staring at me...sitting in *their* Hair Salon...getting a 12 dollar manicure. Finally towards the end, my manicurist (?) asks me something I have no clue about. So being the polite guy I am, I just shrug and say sure.
Hence, the manicurist applys a heavy laquer of clear coat to my now styled fingers. I swear to god, I could see my own reflection!!
Crying on the inside, I stood and tipped the manicurist a 5 spot, and proceeded to pay at the front for my 12 dollar manicure. Finally with receipt in hand, I turn towards the door head held low...when the lil old Asian lady speaks in perfect english.......
"Steve Bursheks office is a house 1/4 way down the block across from the KFC...across the other street. Thanks and come again."
*groan*