That's just an unfortunate misunderstanding caused, probably, by poor cell phone reception during a conversation yesterday between my Long Suffering Spouse and our Oldest Son.
Oldest Son was calling to tell LSS about the interview he had with a guy he met in a gas station a couple of weeks ago, when Oldest Son came to Chicago for Ring Day. This guy approached Oldest Son at the gas pump and asked if he had yet secured summer employment. When Oldest Son said no, the man said he represented a line of vitamins and health food and that he was looking to hire college kids. He had a website that Oldest Son could look at. The URL was provided and cell phone numbers were exchanged. Eventually an interview was set up for last night at a super-mega-bookstore somewhere in the greater South Bend area. Oldest Son asked me if I thought he should show up for this "interview." Though the circumstances were odd, I encouraged Oldest Son to go ahead.
I mean, if you have a website, you must be legit, right? (OK, never mind....)
Anyway, the guy did have a site, promoting a line of beauty, health and fitness products -- but you had to "register" to get past the front page. Neither Oldest Son nor I are that stupid.
Somehow, in this recital via cell phone, LSS heard "gas station," "vitamins" (which she translated as "drugs") and "interview." She concluded that Oldest Son was meeting a drug dealer at a gas station -- and when I walked in the door last night, she told me to call Oldest Son immediately.
This is what I found out when I called: Oldest Son went to the interview -- at the super-mega-bookstore, not at a gas station -- but the interviewer was as cryptic as he'd been while standing outside at the gas pumps: He didn't want to answer simple questions about the job, other than to say that this would give Oldest Son the opportunity to set up his "own small business." When Oldest Son asked if that meant he'd be expected to buy inventory and re-sell it, the interviewer said he would give Oldest Son more information about the job if Oldest Son would come back for another interview Thursday. Clearly, this individual isn't selling health food, he's selling sales jobs selling health food. Oldest Son has suddenly discovered that his homework schedule makes it impossible for him to attend a second interview -- ever.
This is how one generation can improve on the next. When I was a junior in college, I was offered a job selling Bibles in Arkansas, on the very buckle of the Bible Belt. Sort of like selling ice to Eskimos. But, unlike Oldest Son, I was so dazzled by the salesman's pitch at the very first interview that I actually said yes to the job -- and had to weasel out later. Sad, ain't it?
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