May 30, 2013

The Unbearable Lightness of Being ...in Monsieur's Unemployables Class [Obligations Mutuelles Ep.4]






My unemployables class yesterday had more revelations, about myself, Monsieur - and Cuba! 

That said, as I write this - in the back of my mind - I'm starting to worry: What if Monsieur (like fellow blogger ReservoirDad, who googled himself and found me) "googles-himself" and discovers he's the central character! - of my current "blog-story" and unemployed disposition? 

However, thinking rationally, there must be other French men employed by DEEWR, across this big brown land worth writing about? Surely the federal government's issuing of 457 visas (like Frequent Flyer points, or energy saving light globes) would be a catalyst to Australia being the destination choice for many a savvy French citizen  - needing to escape their weird tax system (and overly rich sauces)?  And I'm going with that thought.  Also, Monsieur would NEVER "google-himself" as he's too busy and it would be so "un-him".

Poor Monsieur continues to report to us unemployables - his continuing problems with Madame Absconder. For a Ms Absconder recap follow this link.

We all told him in unison, that we could see - by the glare of Ms Absconder's eyes (at their initial meeting), that she had it in for him. 

So quite appropriately, in yesterday's class, we focused on the Body Language module. But being a little "over it already" by mid-afternoon (post-vegan-baguette) my concentration went south, and I started to focus just on Monsieur's body language and his buns (oops, I mean the baguettes of course!). Excusez mon français.

In our discussions, the newsy topic of Eddie McGuire and King Kong naturally crossed our thoughts, and in Australia, Monsieur said he dealt with racism every day.  But I quickly cheered Monsieur up, by reporting on my Monday afternoon job interview.  And I asked him:  How could une femme intelligente et expérimentée d'un certain âge -  stuff-up so many interviews?

I told him how I went along to the interview at the high-end girls college, paying particular attention to applying his "non horse scaring" methods. That I went against convention, shelved the suit, and wore a black, knee-length shift dress, boots and a chic scarf (one of those free-gifts, found stuck to a Bazaar magazine). I felt this took 500 years off my "employment age" - and that the sturdy footwear would reflect horse handling capabilities.

Perhaps at the interview I played with that gorgeous scarf too much - at one point, nearly choking myself. But it was midway through the questioning, that I could see a positive gleeful recognition in the interviewers eyes. They just loved a couple of my answers -  almost responding to them,  like Tom Cruise during that famous couch-jumping scene on the Oprah Winfrey show.

And (as an unemployed librarianista) in response to their query about my knowledge of teenage fiction, I mentioned The Great Gatsby novel (so timely), and what I thought about it being on the syllabus for 13 year olds (when I was a wee lass at school). It was down-hill from there really. And I knew by the end of the inquisition, the interviewers sugar levels had dropped, and they'd ticked the mad-woman box. Why? Who knows? Who cares?!

But Monsieur cares. And, moving upwards and onwards, he emphasized focusing on the positive (even faking positive).

I told him I HAD remained positive ....even on my way out through reception - when I spotted the next interviewee sitting there (sorry to say) like Whistler's Mother. And regarding this fine example of another "mature" applicant, I thought: She should get the job.  There she was dressed like a tram conductor: looking experienced, sensible, and horse whisperer-like.

Such is life.

What's good about Monsieur's class, is that it's bringing out my previously dormant, socio-pathetic, heckler tendencies. Past therapists would applaud this. And while others may view it as a negative, I too, see it as a positive pour moiPlus - it's keeping Monsieur on his toes, takes his mind off Ms Absconder, and my mind off being in poverty row.

But maybe he secretly wishes I would abscond? (or just foutre le camp)? And as he scans our group, looking for answers - there I am, hand shooting up again, thinking: Pick me, please pick me Monsieur? I so love each and every question! (A big contrast to when I was at high school, and was too scared to even breathe in class).

Moving forward to next week, and Monsieur said le sujet du jour will be: Resume Writing. Oh yawn yawn yawn.
 
And I honestly and directly asked Monsieur: "Since I already have a damn fine resume - can I abscond next week? ...s'il vous plaît Monsieur?"
 
His eyes met mine with a shudder and glint of recognition! And I thought: Monsieur, have you been googling yourself after all?

Regardez cet espace!

As for Cuba - more on that next time - mes amis.




NEXT

It's not always about me, Monsieur [Ep.5]


PREQUEL


Being told how to suck eggs is tres bon when done in a French accent [Ep.1]



RELATED LINK


Scarf Whispering: find an instant "how to" at Midlifexpress.com











2 comments:

  1. Dear Carmen,

    Monsieur sounds like the most delectable creature on the planet. Why would anyone want to be working at a stultifying job when they could be sitting in the presence of this insanely glorious French concoction? Perhaps you could both abscond!
    Thanks for another wonderful article.
    Claire.

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    Replies
    1. Claire - Now (quiet saturday here) so the obvious got me thinking - what does happen when you google "DEEWR" and "monsieur"? So I did - And Mr Google asks: Did you mean: Dear monsieur? (Well of course I didn't Mr. Google!)

      Regardless - DEEWR and monsieur - in google retrieves my DEEWR exploits in about the 3rd/4th row!

      I am now worried I may get contacted by ASIO or something like that? (thinking positively - as Monsieur says we must - it might increase traffic?) Another thought, is that not everyone uses Google - some are Yahoo people. Monsieur looks like a Yahoo man.

      In any case - it can all be "access-denied" with the flick of a button - I think?

      So I won't necessarily have to leave the country, my hometown of Freemantle (or Monsieur?)

      Which reminds me: Make mental note to self to increase medication.

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