Hall of Infinite Doors
"Hi Stanley!"
"Hello," says Stanley blankly. He is a big guy, but slouches slightly. His voice is slow and methodical with a nasal tone.
He hands you his resume.
"So, you ever work in an office before?"
"Uh huh."
"What did you do?"
"I worked in the mailroom."
You look at his resume. It's about a quarter page. His only job after high school was the mail room. "Can you elaborate? What can you do?"
"I can push a mail cart, deliver mail, do the mail machine. I can make copies. It's a good job."
"Do you like that?"
"Uh huh. I like the mailroom."
"Why did you leave your job."
"I worked there for, I dunno, eighteen years. The place burnt down. I need another job. I like the mailroom."
"Hello," says Stanley blankly. He is a big guy, but slouches slightly. His voice is slow and methodical with a nasal tone.
He hands you his resume.
"So, you ever work in an office before?"
"Uh huh."
"What did you do?"
"I worked in the mailroom."
You look at his resume. It's about a quarter page. His only job after high school was the mail room. "Can you elaborate? What can you do?"
"I can push a mail cart, deliver mail, do the mail machine. I can make copies. It's a good job."
"Do you like that?"
"Uh huh. I like the mailroom."
"Why did you leave your job."
"I worked there for, I dunno, eighteen years. The place burnt down. I need another job. I like the mailroom."