ellohgov'nah

(Circa 2008)

It started with a reference, or several. Theses references turned out to be several people. These people included my mother, my friend Bryan, another friend named Lisa, and a couple ex-employees. I was at the stage in my life where I was taking on many more responsibilities at once. One of the larger, and of greater importance, was finding a source of income that did not consist of out-of-pocket change for washing the dishes and other household chores.

My search for employment was immense. I began in my hometown, Deerfield. Given that there are only a few stores that likely have a larger staff reservoir of four or more people, my numbers where limited. As I had suspected, nobody was hiring; one store was sympathetic enough to have my write down my name and phone number on a scrap piece of paper just in case an opening pulled an appearance act. My search continued. I went to neighboring towns such as Blissfield, Adrian, Tecumseh, Monroe and most of Dundee. I asked for suggestions, but was responded with an overpowering octave that was derived from my mother’s vocal cords. She was the steam engine to my train of filling out applications whether I wanted her to be or not. I don’t believe she actually understood how hard I was working at this seemingly response-less goal. This was probably due to my lack of cooperativeness, disobedience as she called it, the previous summer. My goal now was simply to make my mother more of an approachable person— a certain calm that could be obtained by a change in my status.

I sat waiting for a response—my cell phone to come up with an unknown number with a nearby area code.  I figured at very least the fast food chains would come to my aid and request an interview…even the fast food chains, that I thought I would be turning down by the dozens, did not get a hold of me after a week of applying. I began to think that there was something wrong with me, or at least with my applying skills. Oh wait! It was at that point that I had an epiphany. Duh, why wouldn’t I listen to all the people that were telling me that the Holiday Inn Express in Dundee was ‘hiring.’ I felt like an idiot—the only place that I had probably overlooked. I felt as if this were my last chance.

Surely enough, I was contacted back by some ‘Cherie’ lady within less than a couple hours. She wanted to know if I would come into the office a bit later that day. I responded “yes” trying not to make the little girl screaming for joy inside me too evident. It was on like donkey kong. I put on some of my better attire and even took a shower to look ‘presentable’ as my mother instructed—whatever that means.  I was very confident in my interview capabilities. Little did I know that this would be irrelevant. The actual interview consisted of very little of me speaking which meant there was much babbling going on on the other side of the desk.  The only question directed at me was followed by a “uhh, carry linen to the girls and stuff.” Way to go, clutch. She kept on saying “If we decide to hire you…” like it was based on my attributes. It was more like if my name happened to be drawn out of the bingo mixer. I walked out of the office a satisfied man.  For the next two weeks or so, we danced around trying to get me in a day of work with basketball camp and other family oriented gatherings.  Once I got to work the first day I knew I was official.

It did not take me long to fit in. Most of the people there could easily be characterized into a few select groups: people living paycheck to paycheck/ trailer park, authority, and underclassmen. I was obviously not from a trailer park nor was I authority.  My free time was spent with fellow underclassmen and other housemen. Work was hard and it wasn’t long before most of the group started falling out. I was amongst a select few of hard workers for a short phase in time. My main peer’s name was Danny. He was kind of dirty. Regardless of what he was, we got along. HIE decided to step it up and started hiring people. I got to train a vaguely familiar-looking Mark character. We also got along. At the start I was a median for the three of us. I had to leave for about a week near after these events. I came back to an establish trio. We were the three musketeers of pre-cleaning rooms. We, as the superior housemen, called ourselves ‘superhousemen’—purely for the fact that we could. I mean come on, who was going to stop us? This was a great era. As all good things do, this came to an end. I now had a new outlook on life. Because my alliance had disintegrated and left me to die, my job turned into guerilla warfare. It was every houseman for himself.  I had to do something different than every other houseman—hard work did not cut it anymore. I began to help/do the work that was purely designated to the maids. This included cleaning bathrooms, sweeping, tons and tons of bed-making and much more. I did not understand why this did not create me into the top dog. My last resort was to bare it out and continue living as I was—the odds were against me. I alone had the longest houseperson life span out of everybody I had seen. This was no help to me because you could not tell by my appearance which induced that I would have no type of seniority or look of experience.  My career as a houseman ended with a swift farewell due to my fall semester at college. I had a feeling I wouldn’t be missing it much.

I now find myself really good at house chores. I consider myself superior to most women at what they fancy themselves better at by birth.  For instance, when it comes to bed making, anybody that knows me will not think about doing their own bed or anybody else’s bed near or around me. My new goal in life is to become the best trophy husband anyone has ever seen—this, in turn, should make my mother somewhat approachable.