Saturday, August 02, 2008
The Engineer at Circle K
I went out turn on my gas grille today to heat it up and get it ready to sear a brisket, and in full accordance to Murphy, discovered it was out of gas. I grabbed the tank and headed for the door. Scully, hearing the magic word "Go," came to life and beat me to the door.
Fine. You can come along, girl.
Scully scrambled in to the back seat and off we went. The nice Circle K lady who filled my tank reminded me a lot of Florence, that wise-ass maid on the old TV show The Jeffersons. She petted Scully while my tank filled, then topped it off, handed it over, and out of the clear blue sky asked me:
"You know anybody who's hiring electrical engineers?"
No, but I hear NASA may have an opening for an astronaut.
OK, so that was just my first impulse. Then, I realized she was serious.
Er, no. That's really not my field.
"Too bad. I really want back in the business. I want to go overseas."
Well, good luck with that.
I suppose it's possible that a skilled, educated electrial engineer is filling propane tanks at a Circle K in Gilbert. Stranger things have happened. We headed back towards the store. There in the middle of the parking lot, happy as a clam, was Scully, squatted in that all too familiar position, pinching a loaf. Florence stopped, watched for a second, then looked at me and said
"Well, at least you feed her good. It ain't all squishy."
I paid for my gas, Florence gave me some paper towels, and I cleaned up after Scully while a nice man in a Tahoe waited patiently for his parking space.
Man, this brisket better be good.
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Fine. You can come along, girl.
Scully scrambled in to the back seat and off we went. The nice Circle K lady who filled my tank reminded me a lot of Florence, that wise-ass maid on the old TV show The Jeffersons. She petted Scully while my tank filled, then topped it off, handed it over, and out of the clear blue sky asked me:
"You know anybody who's hiring electrical engineers?"
No, but I hear NASA may have an opening for an astronaut.
OK, so that was just my first impulse. Then, I realized she was serious.
Er, no. That's really not my field.
"Too bad. I really want back in the business. I want to go overseas."
Well, good luck with that.
I suppose it's possible that a skilled, educated electrial engineer is filling propane tanks at a Circle K in Gilbert. Stranger things have happened. We headed back towards the store. There in the middle of the parking lot, happy as a clam, was Scully, squatted in that all too familiar position, pinching a loaf. Florence stopped, watched for a second, then looked at me and said
"Well, at least you feed her good. It ain't all squishy."
I paid for my gas, Florence gave me some paper towels, and I cleaned up after Scully while a nice man in a Tahoe waited patiently for his parking space.
Man, this brisket better be good.
