This is a transcript of the fun chat I had with The Poynter Institute about my latest book Getting Laid (off).
Jan
17
An email hit my screen at the exact perfect time. I had just been rejected for a teaching position and was feeling kind of down. The email was from a former student of mine four years ago who was applying to film school; he wanted to write scripts. He asked if I’d be so kind as to write him a letter of recommendation. “As someone who was my favorite teacher at MSU I know you would do a great job at this.“
Okay, I was hooked.
I look over some photos with Western Kentucky University student Brittany Greeson at the Mountain Workshops. (photo by Cassidy Johnson)
There’s a teaching job open at a nearby university. I half-considered applying for it, until I realized a couple things. One, it requires that you teach poetry. My appreciation of poetic form basically starts and ends with “There once was a man from Nantucket.”
Am I getting a gold watch? Wow, the HR lady’s kinda
hot. Breathe, Rodney, breathe. They all look so sad; make
‘em laugh. Ha, they liked the gold watch joke. That guac
from the party’s gonna go bad if this takes too long. Push my book
Spiritual Wanderer, push Spiritual Wanderer. What
does COBRA stand for? Joke about stealing pens. Don’t
tell ‘em about Sharpies. Top boss banters with me about
there not being ink in the pens. Phwew, Sharpies are
safe. Breathe, breathe, breathe. This is it. This is the end
of the career. How long does guacamole last in this heat?
Gotta buy a lottery ticket. Seriously, listen to the COBRA
spiel. Keep the humor up. Do I hug? If one, then everyone.
Top boss reflects on me correcting his tip during our dinner
interview three years ago. Says he knew he’d hire
me then and there. Should I correct him about something
now? They look so serious. Oh, oh, HR lady is nervous;
shaky hands give it away. Humor, jokes, feign interest
in Employee Assistance program. Do COBRAs bite or
squeeze? Remember to thank sweet daughters for helping
me cry earlier so I don’t now. Do I sign something? Hey,
you forgot to take my ID card. It’s ending. Career and this
exit interview. Guac’s probably a goner too. It’s hot. Maybe
it’s the HR lady. Breathe. Why are they looking at me?
Should I say something? Is it my turn to get up and sing?
Do I leave? What do I do? Take bull by the horns. Start
hugging. Surprises ‘em. Ha, hot HR lady says she wants
one too. SCORE!
(Hours later, more Mexican food at home. Guac’s fine.)
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