Tuesday, June 9, 2009

Little town, it's a quiet village...



Once again, I'm presented with an example about why it's terrible to live in Podunk, USA. (Or, perhaps I'll take to calling this place Mayberry, because that's totally what it is.)

I'm currently hiring temporary workers for my office and I got an email forwarded to me by our assistant letting me know that someone was interested in the position.

Do I recognize the name....?

Oh yes. Yes I surely do. And I'm totally mortified....

The person applying for the job is a guy I went on a coffee date with... and then I totally blew him off when he wanted to see me again. (I know, I know. Bad Karma. I'm a terrible person!)

He was actually a very sweet guy, and what was "wrong" with him wasn't actually anything that was wrong--- it just made him not-quite-right for me. He was very young, just barely out of college. (I'm 28.) He didn't know what he wanted to do with his life, and had moved back in with his parents. He was also very short and very skinny.

Again, none of these are terrible qualities, and given his stage in life I don't fault him for living with his parents... and one can't help one's stature or build, so I don't hold it against him.... it just, as I said, added up to not quite right for me.

And yet he was very nice, and so when he contacted me again to go out I talked myself into it. Because after all, my concerns were (are) totally shallow. And then when he made repeated attempts to contact me to solidify plans, I kept putting off responding because I wasn't sure if I should go ( knowing, in that way you just KNOW, that nothing was going to come of it, but who knows, miracles can happen, and oh, he was so nice...) or if I should just be honest and say "I don't think this is going to work. But thanks, and good luck."

And so I kept putting off responding because I couldn't decide. And stuff in my life came up, and again, I kept putting it off... Even though I totally intended to respond. Until eventually I honestly just forgot to respond.

Ooops.

Whenever I thought back to it I felt a twinge of remorse, but so goes the dating game, I figured. Certainly it's not anything that hasn't happened to me, and while it's not awesome, it also isn't something I dwell on.

And then now he pops up in my inbox, asking for a job. Ooops! Mea Culpa, universe! (No, he doesn't know I'm the one doing the hiring.)

(BTW, I'm totally making one of my coworkers respond to his request. Because I'm a wimp that way. Oh yeah, I totally own it.)

3 comments:

arf said...

you could make yourself feel better by thinking that you're sparing him the embarrasment of having to deal with you in a professional context while applying for a job which is hard enough already in this economy.

does that help?

Hypatia said...

:-) Somewhat

arf said...

now, if he gets the job - you're still screwed...

;-)