Here's the job that that false-bottomed little chippieTwyla Puffadder applied for:
Ltd., Canada's largest parking management company has a
full-time opening for a Weekend Supervisor.
This position is responsible for staff supervision, cash control, and a wide variety of other duties involving our operations.
Applicants must be available Friday afternoon through Monday. We are looking for a self-motivated college or university graduate with excellent people skills.
We offer a competitive salary and benefit package, and to the right individual, considerable opportunities for career advancement. Please apply in writing to:
Here's her letter, the scabby, streetwalking little pig:
|To whom it may
Enclosed please find my resume, in response to your search for a Weekend Supervisor.
Let's see if I fully understand the demands of this position. Stop me if I'm wrong:
If my application is successful, I will visit all your parking lots in the Lower Mainland. Some are multi-level skateboard circuits with hypodermic needles in the doorways, and pee in the stairwells. Others are tiny patches of ravaged asphalt in the more scenic areas of town, home to a few abandoned cars that were unable to negotiate the slopes of the larger potholes. I, or one of my fellow college graduates, will be required to lurk in the shadows of these lots, waiting for someone to park without paying. They will do so in large numbers, usually because they haven't got 27 quarters and a Loonie, or because they fail to believe that such attractive real estate is part of a business plan.
When I spot these people, I am not to remind them that they will be subject to a $60 fine if they leave the lot without buying a ticket. No, my job will be to let them leave. Once they are out of sight, I am to pounce on their cars, invoice them, record their license numbers, and chuckle (Do I chuckle? I'm a little unclear on that part). Armed with their license numbers, I will track them until Hell freezes over, should we not receive prompt remittance. If these miscreants are so bold as to sully our lots again without having made recompense, I will remove exotic and important parts of their vehicles. Or their vehicles.
Have I pretty much got it pegged? I'm sure you'll agree that the only requirement I'm lacking is the University degree, but don't you think that's a little like requiring a pit bull to shake-a-paw? I am anxious to get started, so let's get on it. You have 48 hours. Don't screw it up.
ps: When we are negotiating salary
during my interview, please be prepared to discuss
methods of payment. I won't accept quarters, and I won't
slide my Master Card through that little slot fifty or
sixty times. This is the only time I will ask you to be
Fortunately, the wise people at Imperial Parking had the good sense not to reply.
September 19, 1999
© copyright Don Magor 1999, 2000 all rights reserved