Aim high, son, you go get that job of your dreams!
But don’t forget to mention those treats filled with cream…
“I appreciate you coming in today, son. Why don’t you take a seat. By the way, I must say, you’ve got yourself quite the impressive résumé…”
“Why, thanks for noticing.” I blushed lightly at the high praise coming from the man I hoped would be my future boss.
“A degree in physics…tuition fully covered–merit-based, of course–…exceptional collegiate GPA…I even see that you won a $5k scholarship to spend a semester in Spain. Nice.”
“Not to humble-brag1This was before the age of hashtags, otherwise I would say ‘Not to #HumbleBrag…' or anything, but yeah, I’ve done alright for myself…”
“I am, though,” he continued, “a little bit confused about when you graduated…”
Just great. He had to ask about that.
“Oh, that? I’ll be graduating last month in a few weeks–wait, nevermind, don’t worry about that. It’s an unnecessarily long story…and one I will be more than happy to regale you with around that-there water cooler over there.”
I nonchalantly pointed to the office watering hole, trying to subliminal induce him into giving me the job.
“Hmmm…perhaps. Let’s see what else we’ve got here…”
As a more-than-qualified candidate with a veritable rap-sheet of accolades, I was feeling pretty good about my employment prospects in the fine establishment I found myself in.
“Interesting…it says here that you were–and I quote directly from your C.V.–‘Haymaker Hall Twinkie-Eating Champion (2000)*.‘ You must have been pretty proud of that achievement, I suppose?”
I was too engrossed envisioning the steady stream of mostly stable income that was no doubt in my near-future to bother with any subtleties that might have been present in his tone of voice.
“Yeah, I mean who wouldn’t? The guy who got second was only halfway through his box by the time I polished mine off–such a resounding defeat that even before I had got to my last package, he just gave up and started leisurely enjoying his cache. No one was even close to my level of competitive eating that day–all the would-be challengers? They had no choice but to humbly bow themselves before my mad noshing skills.”
“Uh…okay.”
“Yup. True story…”
“Sure, whatever. One last question…you don’t have too much direct experience in our field–which is okay, since you just graduated college (I think?)–so, please, share with me why you would like to work for our company?”
“Hey man, a job is a job and a paycheck is a paycheck, amiright? After all, one can’t defend their title of Twinkie-Eating Champion if they’re training with empty cupboards…”
Oh, yeah. I totally had this thing in the bag…
“There was a shortage! There was a Twinkie shortage, I swear!”
I felt like George Costanza from the hit 90s show, Seinfeld, making a rather futile effort to defend his, uh, “body image” after swimming in a cold pool:2For full context, please enjoy this clip: https://youtu.be/85MZ4c1EWkM
As much as I pleaded with him, Mr. Not-My-Future-Boss-Man, wasn’t having any of it. I desperately tried to explain to him that there truly was The Great Twinkie Shortage of 2000,3”Twinkie Strike Afflicts Fans With Snack Famine”. New York Times, published 23 March 2000, accessed 24 February 2022–see hyperlink and it wasn’t just another lie to go along with the other lies–no, alleged lies–on my résumé.
On my knees by this point, I humbly petitioned him to truly listen and hear me out as I attempted to explain the extenuating circumstances swirling about my perceived fabrication: yes, there was a Twinkie-Eating Competition, and yes, I won said competition by a mile. But thanks to TGTS20004The abbreviated form of the aforementioned The Great Twinkie Shortage of 2000–again, an absolutely real event in American history–the organizers had to substitute Little Debbie brand Swiss Cake Rolls (TM) at the last second, in lieu of the advertised Twinkies.
And, hey let’s be honest, “Swiss Cake Roll-Eating Champion” doesn’t quite, well, roll off the tongue like “Twinkie-Eating Champion*.” So, sure, putting that down on my résumé may have been venturing into a moral gray area–however, I took the extra effort to include the “*”! How more honest could a guy get?
*Sigh*
But alas, ’twas all too little, too late. I was a bona fide liar in his mind–and you know that in this business, a man’s integrity is everything. He, in good conscious, could no way even consider hiring a documented liar such as myself.
All those grand plans and high hopes I had for my future? All foiled on account of the nuances of a ridiculous-sounding-but-actually-happened ----- Twinkie Shortage.
I mean, if not for those meddling bakery truck drivers, this could have been me (audio on):
…and that–and indubitably only that—my friends, is most assuredly why my promising life-long career of uttering phrases such as “She’s got a few miles on her, but she sure is a beauty, isn’t she?” and “What is it going to take for me to get you in this gently-used car today?” never got the chance to even see the light of day.
“Why are you even telling me this story?” you are probably wondering aloud right now, as if somehow I could hear you.
Well, I’ll tell you why–in the immortalized words of the late, great Bill Paxton:
Content created on: 23/24 February 2022 (Weds/Thurs)
Footnotes & References:
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