How to Not Get a Seasonal Job at #%&$

I almost missed the sign in the department store at my local mall.

Interested in picking up extra money for the holidays?  #%&$ is hiring seasonal employees!  

They promised great associate discounts, competitive pay, and flexible schedules.

I considered the fact that Movie Pass has recently restricted the number of movies I can see, which has significantly freed up my schedule. 

When I got home from the mall I mentioned the idea to Dave.  He told me I was nuts, which convinced me to apply for the job.

The online application asked for my previous position and I proudly wrote Director of Customer Insights & Analysis.  When asked how many hours I could work per week I wrote 12.  When asked if I could work evenings I wrote no.  When asked if I could work weekends I wrote no.  

I was confident that I would be the perfect fit for a part-time seasonal position at #%&$!

I was not surprised when I was invited for open auditions interviews.  I checked out my competition.  I was the oldest one in the room (not counting the vending machine.)

Applicants had to fill forms asking for our availability by day.  I wrote:

Monday: 7-4
Tuesday: 7-4
Wednesday: 7-4
Thursday: 7-4
Friday: 7-4
Saturday: -
Sunday: -

The HR person picked up my sheet and looked at me as if I had a unicorn horn protruding from my head.

HER: You are only available weekdays?  No evenings?  No weekends?
ME: Um, yeah.
HER: This is retail.  You have to work evenings and weekends.

But I didn't leave.  I thought once they got to know me they would realize how lucky they'd be to have me as a part-time seasonal employee.

(I could analyze their data for minimum wage if they wanted!)

I had a small group interview with two other applicants.  It went okay until the HR person asked me if I could work on Sundays and I said, "It depends on who the Bills are playing."

It got really quiet then.

She said, "Excuse me?"

I said, "The Buffalo Bills."

Yeah.  They hated me.  And I don't blame them.

They found me to be inflexible and thought that I showed poor judgement.

Who in the world would want to watch the Buffalo Bills play football?

Lot X

We heard the din from blocks away.  Cheering.  Hooting.  Screaming.  Singing "Shout".  And "Lets Go Buff-A-Lo".  

Mostly off-key.

As my friend Mike and I rounded the corner, we encountered the sea of red and blue.  Lot X was packed with thousands of crazy-ass Buffalo Bills fans who had waited a long time for the privilege of attending a playoff game. 

A very long time.

The 17-year playoff drought was over.

And these fans were celebrating.  Lot X had been transformed to Orchard Park South.

The excitement was contagious.

These die-hard fans were proud.  And emotional.  And they travelled a long way to attend this Buffalo Bill's playoff game in Jacksonville, Florida.

They had to come.  No choice.  This was the Bills' first playoff game of the century.

The playoffs became a reality on New Year's Eve.  The stars aligned at about 7:45 PM EST.  Buffalo had just beaten Miami and Cincinnati pulled off a dramatic upset of Baltimore, awarding Buffalo the last wild card spot.

Shouts could be heard around the world. 

I'm not exaggerating.  There are Bills fans everywhere.

And fans began making their playoff plans.

JP, a Buffalo transplant now living in DC, packed his Buffalo Bills PJs and drove 800 miles to Jax.  He was not going to miss that game.

Jack, who chose more formal attire for the game, had a less convenient itinerary.  He flew from NYC to Tampa and drove the 200 miles to Jacksonville in a rental car.

Jack was 6 years old the last time the Bills had a playoff berth.

Then there was Stephen from Rochester, who took a train to Philly to catch his flight to Jacksonville.  He had not been expecting the team to make the playoffs.  He was happy enough when they beat Miami, but when Cincinnati scored that touchdown on a 4th and 12 play? 
 

"I don't cry often," he said.

Josh, Bailey, and Erik had their airline tickets and hotel rooms booked within two hours of that game's finish. 

There was no way they were going to miss the first playoff game since 1999.

Michelle and Jenna were watching last week's game in a house with 28 of their best friends.  "Everyone was screaming. And there were plenty of tears." 

They booked their flights immediately.

Jenna #2 was lucky to make it to the game after her flight was nearly cancelled. 

She flew from Rochester to Tampa and drove to a hotel in Daytona Beach, arriving at 3 am Sunday morning.   

Whew.

Tyler, originally from Attica, had a short commute from Ft. Meyers.  He brought along his deep fryer and boxcars of chicken wings to share with scores of new friends in Lot X.

Tyler, who was 6 years old the last time the Bills had post-season play, watched the Miami game at his parents' house.  He commented that the second half of the game was "normal Bills' shit" (aka Dolphins coming from behind).  When Cincinnati won, his family "went insane".  

Champagne and palm trees were involved.

In the center of the pandemonium stood Jamile, a confused Jaguars fan who somehow parked his car in Lot X.

He had to admit, "You guys know how to travel."

Marshall and Jackie from North Tonawanda took the scenic route to Jacksonville, driving to Cleveland, flying to Orlando and taking a rental car 145 miles to the game.

They had watched the Miami game at a party with 30 people.  When Cincinnati beat Baltimore, "Shit hit the fan."  Marshall had tears in his eyes as he described the tears in his eyes that night.  

He's been going to Bills games for 42 years.

Karen and Vinnie are best friends who met in Lot X on playoff day.

Karen apparently booked her non-refundable flight to Jacksonville BEFORE THE MIAMI GAME WAS OVER.

What?

Every Bills fan knows that no game is over UNTIL IT IS OVER.

I asked her, "Have you not heard about the Music City Miracle?"   

"Sure," she said. "But I just knew they were going to win.  I had faith."

"She was drunk," said Vinnie.

Mike and I left Lot X after meeting a myriad of amazing fans.  Celebrating as if they had won the Power Ball lottery. 

As we headed into the stadium we noticed Jaguars fans tailgating.

Sipping red wine and eating cheese and crackers.  

How lame charming.

The day would have been perfect had the Bills upset the Jaguars. Unfortunately, the Bills' offense did not show up on the field.

Sill, I suspect that nobody I met in Lot X that day regrets making the trip to Jacksonville for one of the most boring playoff games in the history of the NFL. 

I certainly don't.  

Lot X was as far from boring as you can get and I will never forget my time there.  

With my Bills Mafia peeps. 

After the game Mike and I ran into Raul and Celina, Bills fans living in Kissimmee, Florida.  They were married in 1999, the last time the Bills made it to the playoffs.  In fact, Raul affectionately calls Celine, "the curse."  They were at the Miami game last week and stayed in the stadium, in enemy territory, with other Bills fans to watch the infamous 4th and 12 touchdown.  Raul described the scene: people openly crying.   

"It was the best day of my life," he said.  Then he snuck a look at Celine (the curse), and added, "not counting when my kids were born."

X Marks the Spot

I was just about done packing when I heard Dave shouting.

"What the heck is this?" he bellowed from the kitchen.

"What the heck is what?" I responded helpfully.

I was double checking my list in the bedroom.  Toothpaste.  Check.  Toothbrush.  Check.

"This," he repeated, at an even louder decibel.  Which I thought impossible.

"I don't know," I said.  Deodorant.  Check.  Corkscrew.  Check.

"What the hell????" he said.

Which, in my opinion, did not require an answer.  Puzzle book.  Check.

Dave entered the bedroom, holing up his golf shirt.  It had a big white X on it.

I recognized that big white X.

"What is this?" he repeated.

"An X," I said, stating the obvious.  Then, taking an aggressive stance, "Did you put your golf shirt on top of my Bills shirt?"

"I put it on the kitchen counter," he said.

"And apparently, right on top of my Bills shirt!!!!!"  I ran into the kitchen to assess the damage. My Bills shirt was relatively intact.  

Thank God.

I explained to Dave that the X came from white fabric paint.   I had crossed out the "Rex" on my End the Hex Rex Bills shirt with white fabric paint, since Rex Ryan was no longer the Buffalo Bills coach.

It made perfect sense.

But Dave thought it was MY fault that he put his golf shirt atop my Bills shirt.

We had a healthy debate in terms of who was more irresponsible: me for putting my Bills shirt with wet fabric paint on top of the kitchen counter to dry, or him for putting his golf shirt on top of the Bills shirt with the wet fabric paint.

I hadn't planned on taking my Bills shirt to Arizona because the paint was too wet.  Which was no longer the case.  

Bills shirt.  Check.

On the Fringe

As many of you know, I am a Buffalo Bills' fan.   

But my sister Jan puts me to shame.  She is a real Buffalo Bills' fan. (She knows more about the Bills' roster than I know about my husband.)

So I decided to make her a Two-Tone Fleece Team Headband that she could wear while pulling her hair out during penalty ridden games.

I found the free instructions for the headband in a Hancock Fabrics magazine.  (The photo below is of the One-Tone variety.)  

According to the instructions, the skill level for this project was "beginner".  Which was a slam dunk for me, considering I've been sewing since I exited my Mom’s womb numerous decades ago.   

And at the risk of tooting my own horn, I actually stitched up her episiotomy tear on my way out.  

That’s how good I am.

I reviewed the instructions.

I had all 4 items on the shopping list, including the June Tailor Quarter Cut Slotted Ruler.  (I mean, who doesn’t have one of those laying around the house.)

Cut: for each headband, 9” and 6” measurements are cut on lengthwise (least stretch of fabric). 1 (1) 6”X17” piece (small) OR (1) 6”X19” piece (medium) OR 91) 6”X21” piece (large) (headband) of contrast.
 
I read those instructions several times before realizing that the "91)" was probably supposed to be (1).  

Clearly, this was going to be a long afternoon.  I popped an Advil and valiantly picked up the instructions.

Cut (1) 9”X ¾” pieces listed in the chart below (Fringe).
 
What chart below?

Was there supposed to be a chart below called "Fringe"?  Because there was no chart below. 

I continued reading.

1).  Wrong sides together, fold headband piece lengthwise on cutting mat.  OK.  I’m with you.
2). Cut slits in doubled headband piece as shown.
As shown?  Shown where?  Next to my friend Fringe, the chart?

*slits are ½” from raw edges.  But how long?  How many slits?  In what direction?  I bet the answer lies in the "shown below" that’s not shown below freakin’ anything!
*Place a 6” fringe through each double slit on long edge but don’t tie yet.  Where did the 6” fringe come from?   Was that in the #$#^%@* Fringe Chart?

I was ready to cut some fringe in the shape of a noose and suspend myself from the nearest ceiling fan.

I took a closer look at the photo of Two One-Tone Fleece Team Headband.  I realized that it was actually kind of goofy looking.  

Why would the heck was I trying to make that goofy headband?

I poured a glass of wine to get my creative juices flowing.  Because I don’t need no stinkin’ beginner pattern from Hancock fabrics to make a Buffalo Bills headband for Jan!  

I am Lou Clyde!  Nerdling Genius Fashion Designer.

I rolled up my sleeves and got to work.

And within 30 minutes I had completed my very own Nerdling Two-Tone Fleece Team Headband.

That is WAY cuter than the one I aborted.  Except it was missing something. 

But what?????

Matching earrings.
 

Because you really can't go to a football game without the proper jewelry.