How to Sprinkle Your Pants and Win the Job

How to Sprinkle Your Pants and Win the Job

There was one major condition for my possible employment…fly to Chicago, attend a trade show and represent my potential employer, a non-profit association, to the current membership. I was being thrown into the fire head first. Thankfully, the director of marketing, a jovial fellow by the name of Ken, would be my chaperone. If I satisfied his criteria I won the job.

I had very little knowledge about the commercial building industry, but this conference was going to be a crash course.

First, we charted out where our association members were located on the floor plan provided. We would then visit each member’s booth. Ken would give me a brief history of each member and then introduce me as the business development manager in-training. I received many smirks and heard several whisperings among members. I got the impression that I was a sacrificial lamb, of sorts.

Most members were receptive and quite pleasant. After a while Ken instructed me to approach a member’s booth unattended. That is, alone. He explained that he wanted to see how I handled myself with a couple of strangers. I told him I was up to the task.

Ken pointed out my target and wished me luck. He then hid amongst the crowd of attendees to assess my approach. There was a small group of men quietly talking. I bravely walked up to them, introduced myself and extended my hand. No one took it. One man shouted the association name out loud and asked, “What are you doing here?” This lamb was about to get slaughtered by a very disgruntled association member.

For several minutes I was badgered and berated for billing errors and the like. I just stood there nodding my head and taking notes. Once the tirade had subsided I made a promise to review his concerns and follow-up with him directly upon my return to the office. All the while, I could see Ken, over the gentleman’s right shoulder, giggling to himself. Apparently, he purposely set me up with a hot-head just to get my reaction. I got the impression I was getting closer to a new job.

I requested a much needed washroom break and Ken followed me in. While he continued to fill the air with his building industry knowledge I parked in front of a urinal. I did my best to listen to Ken’s ramblings, but I also had to focus on the job in hand. When I thought I was done I proceeded to shake myself, pulled the handle down and stepped away from the urinal. I then turned to talk to Ken.

Instantly, his jaw fell open and he broke into a fit of hysterical laughter. Ken then fell back against the wall and slid to the floor gasping for air. It was quite a sight considering Ken was six feet tall and tipped the scales at 300 plus pounds. As he tried to control himself, Ken pointed to my crotch. I took a moment to look down and realized I had sprinkled myself from pocket to pocket. I was stunned and embarrassed.

Taking a deep breath I shamefully skittered over to the towel dispensers only to find them empty. Only the hot air hand dryers were available, you know the really slow ones. So there I stood, knees bent, continuously slapping the power button, leaning into the warm air flowing out of the nozzle and onto my wet pants. I had to slowly rock back and forth to ensure full coverage. After several minutes a modicum of success was achieved and fled the rest room. 

Poor Ken had finally composed himself. His face was beet-red and his ribs ached from laughter. I endured the embarrassment with utter dignity and professionalism. Well, as much as I could muster under the circumstances. For his part, Ken believed I did quite an admirable job and offered me the position.

Don O’Connor