I Needed a Job

How is it that I have gotten to this age, with three degrees and looking for a job? Who knew it would be so hard to find a job. I’m sitting here reading all the job listings, and there are a few I know I don’t qualify for: CLEANING HOUSES, that’s out, Professional Chef—does tuna-noodle-casserole made with Campbell’s mushroom soup and canned tuna count as “professional?” mmmm…Funeral home looking for licensed undertaker….yep, that’s me (I say with sarcasm).

Surely, there’s something I can do. I know greeter at Walmart (always my backup plan) is already taken by that really great man—I really like him whenever I go there and I should tell the store that next time he’s there. Oh yeah, “dishwasher needed,” doesn’t that go under “cleaning?? Besides the last time I showed up for one of those interviews I was told I was “over qualified.” When was having to pay rent with a job equate with “over-qualified?

Oh…wait….here’s one…”Local Zoo looking for person desiring to work as zoo-intern.” I like animals….I like animals A LOT. I guess I’ll call and set up an interview. Maybe I could convince them I’m enrolling in college again for zoology—that’s a plan, right? I remember staying up most the night when April the giraffe was giving birth. I remember it was an awesome thing. And the zoo in Idaho was always looking for penguin-walkers. This is right up my alley. Give me fur and feathers and I’m a happy camper.

A few days later I found I had been hire, actually hired, by the zoo and I was showing up to begin my new job as “intern zoo keeper.” I notice I’m walking with a bounce in my step as I reflect on my great luck in landing this job. My interview was late, after the zoo closed down for the evening, so I wasn’t able to get a tour of the animals. I couldn’t wait to be introduced to them. Lions, and tigers, and bears—OH MY— what a great job. I love my new job.

There’s Paula, the woman who interviewed me. I guess I’ll get a uniform just like she’s today when I sign in. What luck that nobody else got this job. “Hi, Paula! I’m looking forward to my first day on the job.”

“Hi, I hope you slept well last night—you did say you knew how to swim, right?”

“Yep, lead me to the seals, the penguins, and polar bears.”

“Well, we’re going to start you in the aquatic section, we have some fish tanks to clean.”

As I was walking along with Paula, I noticed a sign that read: SWIM WITH THE SHARK TURN LEFT.

I began to wonder if zoos had sharks. I thought zoos were for animals, and “sharks, whales and other water things” were in aquarium exhibits like Sea World, or the National Aquarium in Baltimore. This begs the question why is knowing how to swim and starting “…in the aquatic section, we have some fish tanks to clean…” mean in my new employment record?

We turned left, just as the sign indicated, there in front of us was the biggest shark I have ever seen. WOW! Whoa!!! People actually SWIM in there with that shark?”

Oh yes, that’s Connor. He has the greatest sense of humor you’ll ever see in a shark. You’ll get to love him.”

Sense of humor?! In a shark with a sense of humor? Isn’t that like saying a snake has a great personality? Aren’t really bad people called “snakes” and “sharks?” There would be a reason for that. Neither snakes or sharks are known for their cuddle personalities.

I know that some people have snails in their fish tanks to clean the glass, do you put some sort of sea-snail in with “Cooper” to clean his tank?”

“We tried that, but Cooper thought they were food and ate them.”

Yep, probably Cooper was playing a joke on them and “gulp, down they went into the belly of a shark; hahaha jokes on you!” I began to wonder if a person gets paid by the half hour, and had health benefits in place after just beginning employment at the zoo? Or, perhaps “death” benefits. The only thing I know about sharks is that they are attracted to the smell of blood—perhaps pulling a hangnail on one of my fingers constitutes a reason not to be allowed to clean Cooper’s tank. Maybe just saying I had to use the restroom, and not ever returning back to the job would work.

Oh, that’s right, the other thing I saw with shark swimmers is they carry a big stick and hit the shark on the nose if it gets too close for comfort (similar to President Roosevelt’s diplomacy of “…speak softly and carry a big stick…”).

As we walked past Cooper, Paula led me to a door that read “DO NOT ENTER WITHOUT ZOO PERSONNEL.” Lucky me, I am now a “zoo personnel.”

“Cooper is only here temporarily. He washed up on shore in deplorable condition and we were the only tank that wasn’t being used. The shark conservation people were able to get there in time to save him. We have a marine biologist from Sea World travel up to give him check-ups and meds that he needs. He has to be in quarantine until he’s cleared and healthy, then either released back into the wild or if he has to stay in medical care sent to a bigger facility. In the meantime, Cooper is our’s and we get to share him with everyone who comes to our zoo. Some sharks are beginning to be on the endangered list. We get to highlight how valuable they are as a species. Here we are, go into the changing room. I put your apron on a hook with your name, and I’ll get the notebook with the specific instructions on how to clean the tanks in this area.”

An APRON? That’s all I get? No big stick, metal scuba gear? Yep, there’s my name and the plastic apron. One thing is clear the apron is going on over my clothes. Me wearing a swimsuit is not becoming, but wearing only an apron would be incredibly horrific. I can still back out, I don’t need to pay the rent this month….

When I exited the changing room, Paula was waiting with a notebook in hand.

“Here is the procedures, just follow them step by step and you’ll be fine. I see you didn’t change your shoes to a pair of rubber one that were on the shelf, you’ll probably ruin your shoes because of the saltwater.”

Good thing I know where to get more of these shoes because I’m counting on the fact that our “dear humorous Cooper” doesn’t like imitation leather as a meal supplement. He probably thinks it funny to sneak up on a person and nibble on toes and fingers….opps was that your hand I just ate??????

“Ok, I’ll leave you right now, and start in this corner, and move around the room systematically with the notebook. You[‘ll start with this tank first. Bye, glad to have you on board.”

I looked at the tank she had pointed to and there before I was a tank with sea horses in it. I have loved sea horses for most of my life, since the fifth grade, in fact. Mrs. Krause my teacher had two of them in a tank on her desk, and as she read Charlotte’s Web, I would watch the sea horses. Now there’s another oxymoronic idea along with humorous sharks and personable snakes. Who thought up Charlotte being this loving and caring spider, and then she dies. The only thing I learned from that book is when there is a spider in my house, kill it before it lays eggs—it’ll die anyway, and you won’t have a whole nest of baby spiders to deal with—am I wrong about this? Oh, and I would love to own a sea horse one day.

I bet you thought Paula was going to “throw me to the sharks,” didn’t you? Well, to be honest with you, I, myself, was convinced I was going to be “shark bait,’ and I was the one writing this Big-Fish-Tale. The first indication that something was “fishy” was finding an apron on a hook with my name on it. That was the first indication that I just might survive my plunge into a story about sharks. Cooper, be strong, be well, and live to swim another day!