Jumping Through Hoops
Are you tired of the way nominees are grilled by Senators before they get the job? Well, get used to it. Because of today’s economy, an employer can subject prospective employees to just about any kind of interview. I managed to acquire a transcript of one of these interviews – I’m not saying I got it from a Russian spy at a kid’s soccer game last Saturday — and I have printed it below. It is the story of a young woman who has applied for a cashier’s job at a neighborhood super pharmacy.
HERBERT BARRINGTON: Mrs. Coogan, on behalf of management, I’d like to thank you for taking the time to sit down with us to answer a few questions.
ELLEN COOGAN: You’re quite welcome, Mr. Barrington, but it’s Ms. Coogan, not Mrs.
ROGER MARSHALL: And representing labor, I’d like to welcome you too, Ms. Coogan.
COOGAN: Thank you, Mr. Marshall.
BARRINGTON: When you say you like to be referred to as Ms., is that just because you have no respect for traditional marriage, or have you decided to never get married?
COOGAN: I’ve never been married, but what does this have to do with the job?
BARRINGTON: So you hate men?
COOGAN: I don’t hate men. I just haven’t gotten married yet. I’m only 22.
BARRINGTON: What are you suggesting? That my 21-year-old daughter got married because she was pregnant?
COOGAN: I didn’t say that.
BARRINGTON: (MUMBLING ALMOST TO HIMSELF) We sell condoms in our own stores. She had to know that. She used to work here in the summers.
MARSHALL: Mr. Barrington.
BARRINGTON: (COMING OUT OF HIS OWN WORLD) Uh, yes. How do you feel about the rubber thumb issue?
COOGAN: I beg your pardon.
BARRINGTON: Many cashiers wear rubber thumbs over their God-given, real thumbs so they can separate bills more easily for counting. How do you feel about this practice?
COOGAN: I guess I feel it should be up to the individual to choose a rubber thumb or not.
MARSHALL: Good for you. She’s pro-choice.
BARRINGTON: (AGAIN, IN HIS OWN WORLD) We don’t even hide them anymore. We put them right out in the open, next to the batteries. How hard could it have been to …
MARSHALL: Ms. Coogan, were you involved in some volunteer work while at college?
COOGAN: Yes, I read to blind veterans.
MARSHALL: How admirable. I’d like the record to show that, I too, served my country by mowing the lawn in front of the post office and…
BARRINGTON: Let’s move on to a subject that concerns all Americans: Paper or plastic? If a customer has no preference, would you bag the purchases in a paper bag or in a bag made from the best plastic in the world produced by American trading partners?
COOGAN: Since you put me under oath, I’ll have to say I’d go with paper. Better for the environment.
BARRINGTON: The environment? So, you admit you’re a tree-hugger. I have here a copy of a paper that you wrote that is an example of radical environmentalism. You wrote this, did you not? (HANDS HER THE PAPER)
COOGAN: Yes, it was about putting pizza boxes in the recycling bin, and yucky leftover pizza in the regular trash. I wrote it in the fourth grade.
BARRINGTON: Have your views changed on this matter?
COOGAN: Not my views, but my spelling. Now I know that pizza has two “z’s.” Can we get back to talking about the job? How about benefits?
BARRINGTON: “Benefits?” The benefit would be that you’d have a job.
MARSHALL: Have we mentioned that she did community service work while she was in college?
BARRINGTON: Yes, and I was not impressed. Maybe some of those blind veterans would have learned to read on their own if she hadn’t taken away their initiative by reading to them.
MARSHALL: What?!
BARRINGTON: I believe in the maxim that if you give a guy some fish, he’ll have something to eat, but if you teach him to fish, uh, then he can always go fishing with his buddies.
MARSHALL: What does that have to do with Ms. Coogan?
BARRINGTON: I just think… hey, where are you going, Ms. Coogan?
COOGAN: This interview is just too much for me. I’m going to apply for a job that’s a little easier to get. There must be a Cabinet post that’s open.
Lloyd Garver has written for many television shows, ranging from “Sesame Street” to “Family Ties” to “Home Improvement” to “Frasier.” He has also read many books, some of them in hardcover. He can be reached at lloydgarver@gmail.com. Check out his website at lloydgarver.com and his podcasts on iTunes.
Sam Houston Odd Man Out In Love Triangle
On July 12, 1839, Sam Houston wrote his favorite pen pal, who was young enough to be his daughter, to say how much he missed her and his beloved Texas.
The three sides of the best known romantic triangle in Lone Star history first laid eyes on each other in 1833. Fourteen year old Anna Raguet had settled recently in Nacogdoches with her father Henry. Dr. Robert Irion, 15 years the beauty’s senior, had buried his wife the previous year, and Sam Houston was at 40 only four years removed from the scandalously short marriage to a teenaged debutante that led to his resignation as governor of Tennessee.
The night before Houston left to assume command of the rebel forces in January 1836, he was the guest of honor at a dinner hosted by the Raguets. Hearing the dashing hero grumble that he lacked a belt for his sword, Anna fashioned one from red cloth and presented it to him at his dawn departure the next day.
As soon as the Texans’ crushing victory was secure, the victorious general sent a sprig of laurel by special messenger to his young admirer. An enclosed note made clear the thought behind the gift: “These are the laurels I send you from the battlefield at San Jacinto. Thine, Sam Houston.”
Like most educated men of his day, Houston was a prolific letter writer and corresponded on a regular basis with dozens of individuals. But he seemed to take special pleasure in the steady stream of mail from the blond maiden. In October 1836, an astonished aide watched him plant a score of kisses on the latest letter from Miss Anna.
Up until then, Houston had shown little interest in severing the legal tie which still bound him to Eliza Allen back in Tennessee. But divorce suddenly became a pressing priority, and in April 1837 the republic he served as president issued the necessary decree.
Houston’s infatuation was such common knowledge that friends and those keen on currying his favor kept him well informed on Anna’s hectic social life. While admitting the parlor of “the brightest and loveliest star of Texas” was the busiest place in Nacogdoches, an accomplished flatterer gave the many suitors no chance against “the Conqueror who gave our banner to the breeze.”
Houston often wondered why Anna did not wed this or that young man and went so far as to review the qualifications of each candidate. His sincerity was clearly suspect since the real question may have been whether she considered him husband material.
He once came right out and asked the junior miss why she did not marry their personal postman, the good doctor Irion. Was sly Sam unaware of their mutual affection or giving her the opportunity to deny the rumored romance?
Nowhere in the extensive correspondence, which has survived the wear and tear of a century and a half, did Houston ask Anna to be his wife. But a letter penned in June 1838 implied that he had proposed marriage because it contained his pledge never to raise the subject again.
By contemporary standards, Houston was acting the fool and an old fool at that. He was 45 in the summer of 1838 – three years older than Anna’s father – and she was still in her teens. Even though the union of middle-aged men with females young enough to be their daughters was more widely accepted in those days, Houston’s conduct made him a laughingstock in some quarters.
Houston was between presidencies in 1839 and treated himself to an extended vacation. Passing through Alabama, he was introduced to Margaret Lea, a southern belle the same age as Anna with matching blue eyes.
In a letter to Dr. Irion soon after the chance encounter, Houston wrote, “You have basked this summer in the sunshine of Miss Anna’s countenance and must be very happy. She is a great woman! Who will marry her? If she were out of the way, I would be better off in my feelings.”
Eight months later, Anna was no longer on the market thanks to Robert Irion. They eloped over the objections of her father, who had a rich Philadelphia businessman all picked out, and exchanged vows on March 30, 1840.
While it is true that Houston did not exactly marry Margaret Lea on the rebound, the fact remains he tied the knot for the last time six weeks after Anna ceased to be available.
The two couples maintained a close and treasured friendship despite any lingering emotions from the three-sided relationship. The Irions honored the odd man out by naming their first son Sam Houston.
Anna Raguet Irion outlived her husband, who died on Houston’s birthday in 1861, by 22 years. She never mentioned much less discussed the carefully preserved private papers discovered after her death.
So if Miss Anna never loved Sam Houston, how come she held onto his letters for nearly half a century?
Bartee Haile welcomes your comments, questions and suggestions at haile@pdq.net or P.O. Box 152, Friendswood, TX 77549. And come on by www.twith.com for a visit!
