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Today I did my first solo job interview. The applicant was really nice, and even more nervous then me, and I think it went well. I may hire him, as I think he'd be great, but I've got at least one more person to interview and then whoever I like better needs to go through the *discernment* process (goofy work shit).
The weird thing is, this applicant used to deal with an old regular of mine at the store he worked at. He used her as an example of a difficult customer and I recognized her from his description.
Mary was an old, bed-ridden woman living in New West. She didn't have any family in the area and was obviously lonely. About every 6 or 8 weeks, she used to call Omega and ask for me, then ask a product question or two interspersed with long conversations about health talk radio shows, health concerns, her life story, what have you. She would usually call several times in a row, often asking variations on the same questions each time, but she was obviously not losing it. She was bright, but lonely.
I used to let her go on for up to 40 minutes per call, one call per day (the second call had to go to voicemail) on slow days, while answering emails and doing other tasks. I mailed her a lot of brochures - so many, in fact, that I kept a page of labels already done up with her address so I could deal with her requests quickly.
She was a sweet woman. She always blessed me at the end of every call. She called me her "little friend". She always said that she was praying for me. She was often in pain, but she always sounded cheerful.
My applicant today had much the same experience with her. He couldn't spend as much time with her, as he had to give some priority to all the people who were in the store. She was always hard to get off the phone, for both of us. But he knew something I didn't: Mary passed away a few months back.
With the job changes I've been going through, I hadn't noticed that she hadn't called in a while.
I hope she passed away peacefully. I am glad she isn't in pain anymore. I miss knowing that she is in the world. I'll pray for her tonight, in my way, for I believe she would like that.
The weird thing is, this applicant used to deal with an old regular of mine at the store he worked at. He used her as an example of a difficult customer and I recognized her from his description.
Mary was an old, bed-ridden woman living in New West. She didn't have any family in the area and was obviously lonely. About every 6 or 8 weeks, she used to call Omega and ask for me, then ask a product question or two interspersed with long conversations about health talk radio shows, health concerns, her life story, what have you. She would usually call several times in a row, often asking variations on the same questions each time, but she was obviously not losing it. She was bright, but lonely.
I used to let her go on for up to 40 minutes per call, one call per day (the second call had to go to voicemail) on slow days, while answering emails and doing other tasks. I mailed her a lot of brochures - so many, in fact, that I kept a page of labels already done up with her address so I could deal with her requests quickly.
She was a sweet woman. She always blessed me at the end of every call. She called me her "little friend". She always said that she was praying for me. She was often in pain, but she always sounded cheerful.
My applicant today had much the same experience with her. He couldn't spend as much time with her, as he had to give some priority to all the people who were in the store. She was always hard to get off the phone, for both of us. But he knew something I didn't: Mary passed away a few months back.
With the job changes I've been going through, I hadn't noticed that she hadn't called in a while.
I hope she passed away peacefully. I am glad she isn't in pain anymore. I miss knowing that she is in the world. I'll pray for her tonight, in my way, for I believe she would like that.
