“Now it’s no secret,” the hiring manager began, “that Zenith Hospitality Group brings in the applicants with the biggest social media presences and trains them to be bartenders and servers.”
The thirty people in the room giggled, laughed, took selfies.
Kris was in the back row by design.
He was the oldest person in the seats by fifteen years minimum, and probably a year or two older than the corporate hotshot in the hi-viz green and jet black BrewBurger shirt giving the presentation.
“You will learn the Zenith system, but I’m always curious. Who here has bar and restaurant experience?”
Ninety percent of the people raised their hands.
Kris cleaned two-stroke oil out of his fingernails with the toothpick of his Gerber multitool.
“Great, great,” the toothy, perfectly not-perfectly coiffed guy said.
“As you may know, our founder Jack Conner prides himself on a versatile, well-prepared team and is committed to ending the scourge of addiction in our communities.”
One 29 Ounce MegaChiller at a time, Kris thought.
“Who here has been trained in CPR?” the manager asked, brushing his hand through his immaculately not-immaculate hair.
Kris stuck his hand up, Gerber still in it.
A few other arms raised tentatively, like they may have seen the proper technique on TV.
“Has anyone actually performed CPR?”
Kris had the sense to pocket his Gerber before raising his hand again. He was the only person who did.
“Wow, great. We have a team member at our Denver store who is a lifesaver too. Excellent.”
Some of the new hires were turning and looking at Kris now. He smiled, somewhat sheepishly, not used to receiving much attention.
“Are any of you familiar with Narcan?”
A few of the kids in the rows of seats nodded, tentatively again.
The guy kicked into a little Narcan speech that sounded over-rehearsed but hit the important points on the nasal spray’s lifesaving abilities.
“Has anyone here ever administered Narcan?”
None of the kids flinched.
Kris’s hand shot up again.
“Well, well, good to know. Can you tell the other team members what that experience was like?”
Kris fidgeted, then asked “Which time?”
Every head turned.
The training guy’s head twisted at a funny angle.
“How many times have you done it?” he asked.
“Five,” Kris said.
The training honcho smiled. “Oh, you must have been an EMT.”
“Nope,” Kris said, as the whole room looked at him. “I was a drum tech for a punk band.”
***
Photo by Marcos Luiz Photograph on Unsplash
yup
I'm an anal-retentive dude. Gerber makes the Multi-plier. Leatherman has the Multi-tool. But I loved the story anyway.