Chris conducted a job interview today here at the Towers.
We had discussed amongst ourselves what we were looking for and had sketched out a job description. It was pretty straightforward. So you can imagine my surprise when Chris said hello and then launched into some campaign for growing the business and the 20 year plan which includes maybe building more geodesic domes in the back yard and a research team to take up where Buckminster Fuller left off or at the very least adding new employees so we could have a company picnic once in awhile.
Actually, you can't imagine my surprise. Because I wasn't.
It made me think of how we met. He was interviewing me for a job, an interview to which I wore silk trousers and brought my writing portfolio. He wore an inside-out sweatshirt. He had an office then, which we left so he could interview me without interruption. He drove me to the beach and we sat on a bench in the off season, where two large and muddy puppies jumped all over me. He went on and on about goodness knows what and I swear the only reason I continued meeting up with him was so I could figure out what the heck he was talking about. I never did.
And then we got married.
Which doesn't bode well for this interview because Chris is not Mormon. Fortunately for all concerned, he got back on track and the rest went pretty smoothly. Smoothly except of course for the fact that Studley sauntered up and peed on the floor in front of us halfway through. Lucy's been doing a good job potty training him, but clearly there's more work to be done.
I figure if the interviewee doesn't need to stop off at the drycleaner on the way home, it's a win.
As I listened to the interview unfold, I suddenly saw the whole episode through her eyes as if she were at that moment not concentrating on what my husband was saying, but rather what she would write in her blog later this evening. I looked around at our space and shuddered at how she would have every right to portray it. I thought about the insurmountable task we were offering, and winced at the number of consolatory comments she'd get. And then Studley did the thing with the pee and, well, that just made everything pretty perfect now didn't it?
Which is I think why nondisclosure agreements are signed. I must remember to keep them handy by the door.