Israel Stories

Thursday, February 16, 2006

The Commando Part 2

First of all an apology for all those feline lovers who were so keen to contact me and express their views, all I can say is for what you are about to read I am truly sorry and I hope you treat humans with as much compassion and care as you do cats. You bunch of lunatics.

So we left off last time with phase one of my anti-cat operation. The freezing hose water seemed to do the job. Sprinkling pepper and lemon peel kept most of the cats away but that was short lived as my wife objected to all the lemon peel littering our garden. In her words ‘it looks like a rubbish dump and will attract all those cats’. Sometimes it feels like ‘I’m putting out the fire with gasoline’, as Bowie would say.

For now the battle was won but the war was far from over. Son of white appeared one day. Absolutely devoid of any sense of smell or not bothered by the pepper, chili and lemon mix he just sat there. Then out of nowhere another white cat. I remember a Rabbi once said ‘always two there are, a master and apprentice (I think he was a Rabbi!) The family was coming to play. Not in my garden. This was the new breed of cat. Evolution had hardened them, strengthened their senses and now they were here to take revenge

Keep cool, I heard myself say, anger leads to pain, pain leads hate, hate leads to suffering. The cats were immune to all I could throw at them (not literally you lunatics)! Powerful you have become the dark side I sense in you. Enough was enough. Back to the internet.

Phase two; operation sensory destruction. I bought myself a sonic blaster. A sensor picks up all movement and then lets out a sonic sound wave guaranteed to make all wildlife with 20 meters soil themselves or at least run for it. And you know what, it works. It’s absolutely bloody marvelous. Not a cat in two months. And its totally humane you lunatics, so go burn your fur coats.

Phase three; operation fear. With my garden clear and cat free all I needed to do was clear our little street. They avoided my garden but used our communal garden and to be quite frank the smell was getting to me. My wife called me obsessed and threatened to refer me for counseling if I didn’t stop. “What would have happened if Churchill had given up, huh?” I countered. She called me an animal lover and walked off.

Little did she know that phase three was about to be launched and if she thought I was a lunatic then heaven knows what she was going to think. Well she was remarkably calm when one morning a small bag was deposited outside our house with a note from the Jerusalem Zoo. The note said, keep in a well aired location, contents fresh and undried, there is plenty more where that came from.

“Please tell me its not what I think it is”, she pleaded. “Sorry love, but it is care of the lions in the Jerusalem Zoo. If this doesn’t put the fear up those cats nothing will. I’ll give up the fight and maximum respect to the hardest meanest Israeli cats in the world!”

So with a plastic glove and a spade I sprinkled the lions dung over the gardens, by the trees and anywhere where humans (you know the important and dominant species) don’t walk.

And you know what, the cats disappeared. Apart from white who we now know to be deaf and devoid of any sense of smell.

I am the official distributor of Jerusalem Zoo dung. You can order through me. Please let me know quantity and animal and I’ll send it to you. (Not by post.)

It has been said that maybe I belong in Arkham but in this world of hate and war where people would rather kill a human than see a rat be experimented on for the good of human kind, I like to think I am doing my bit for the good of human kind.

Wednesday, February 01, 2006

The Recruitment Consultant – Why?

The Recruitment Consultant

Its no secret I am looking for a job. I have a job but I want a new one. If you want to know why I want a new one you’ll have to contact me.

So I sent my resume to certain employment agencies, recruitment consultants and through various websites. Then I got a call. Please come and see us next week for an interview. We like your resume and would like to try and develop an idea of how we can find you the perfect job.

Nice, I thought, very efficient. I mean they even bothered replying and they called me. This must be good. So I prepared myself. Make a good impression; you know the thing, brush all my teeth as Woody Allen would say.

The office was in central Tel Aviv. I used to work in Tel Aviv, and remembered the traffic, so left myself plenty of time, stocked up on CD’s, food, drink and a good book for the inevitable slow crawl from Ganot to HaShalom junctions. Actually it was just as well I stocked up because the traffic started at Ben Gurion.

As I sat in the traffic, I went over my well versed lines, about why I wanted to leave my company, what I was looking for, where I could see myself in 5 years time (hopefully not still here in traffic by Ben Gurion!) and what salary I wanted.

Due to a traffic accident I arrived in Tel Aviv nearly two hours later. But it was cool, I had left early and it only took me half and hour to find a parking spot. I was still going to be early.

I casually walked into the office and announced I had a 10am appointment. Then it started to go horribly wrong. First the blank stare, the nervous look, the ‘oh dear, we’re sorry but we have totally forgotten who you are and no one is available to see you’ red face.

I was told to wait as the receptionist ran off to consult with a colleague. Then I was asked numerous times who I was and would I like a drink. Half an hour later, my counterpart swaged into the office, looked at me, went red and realized he shouldn’t have drunk all that arak last night.

I was shown into his office. “Do you have a copy of your resume?” he asked. “I have a printed copy here, but I did send you one, because someone from your office phoned and asked me to come in.” He got up and walked over to a filing cabinet, and then to a computer, and then another computer finally he turned to me, “can I have your copy?”

I gave him my copy and then he began to read it. “Look, I don’t mean to be rude, but some one called me and said they had read my resume, thought is was very interesting, and thought that there were certain possibilities we could discuss today”.

“Oh,” he said. Lets have a look at our website and see what we have available.”
“I have the internet at home; I didn’t need to come to your office to surf your site.”
He was so busy surfing he just answered, “you don’t need to put that on your resume, most people have the internet at him”

I physically choked. How does this man make a living, how does he eat, how does he sleep at night?

I was getting a bit agitated and when I get agitated my dry, British sarcasm takes on a life of its own.

“I would like to get something straight in my mind.”
“Shoot,” he replied.
“Look, you dragged me into your office from Bet Shemesh; it has taken me two and half hours door to door because of a traffic accident. You dragged me here, forgetting we had an appointment, having not read my resume; you do not have any suitable jobs and have absolutely nothing helpful or constructive to tell me. In fact it has been a total waste of time!”

“Oh, don’t worry,” he smiled, “you haven’t wasted my time, I like to meet our clients, get to know there faces, find out what makes them tick.”

Visions of me looking at what made him tick, like his one brain cell and his heart in my hand came to mind. But I was cool and calm, kept stiff upper lip and forced a smile or maybe it was a look of total amazement. And with that look on my face he shouted ‘smile’ and took my photo.

“Just for the records so we can remember you for our files”.

I thanked him for his time

I’m still looking for a job.