The perils of job hunting for those of a luddite persuasion

Over the years I have had some pretty "special" experiences with computers. There was the time I got a plum stone stuck in my printer for example, or the time I "sent all" telling my friend that his new girlfriend looked like his mother, only to receive an email minutes later form an address I didn't recognize, which read simply, "I don't look like anybodies mother thank you very much". So, you can imagine the familiar feeling of horror I experienced this morning when I made this next little blunder. Are you sitting comfortably children, then I will begin...

Friday 24th April 2009
The No.1 Ladies Dating Agency

To keep myself busy and to enable me to live vicariously through other people's love dramas, I enjoy setting my friends up with each other. Now, I'm no Sarah Beanie but I like to think, in my own small way, I'm really quite good at matching people up (I have 2 marriages to date). My latest victory in this department blossomed in the city over a bottle of Sancerre or seven and some very tasty Dim Sum. Things were going very well I thought.

Until this morning, when I did this...

Eager to spread the word of the date's success, I emailed a mutual friend of ours with the following. You'll have to excuse the rather crude subject matter, I have a potty mouth when I don't think anyone but friends are listening.

Subject: The red mattress.
Date: Fri, 24 Apr 2009 12:54:15 +0000


Phone cut out as I was getting to the good bit. I will now tell you a story. Are you sitting comfortably?

Many years ago when we were all young and carefree and casual sexual encounters were the order of the day (let's just ignore the fact that this is still the case for some) there was a famous little red mattress that lived on Leathermarket Street in London Bridge. The famous man- jizz petrified red mattress of Leathermarket Street had seen a lot of action in its time and was no stranger to amorous guests. However, one day the little red mattress thought to itself "Oh dear, I appear to be losing my touch" - here I sit neglected and unused in the sitting room, my dubious stains and frayed edges exposed for all to see. Why, oh why, thought the little red mattress, is no one bouncing up and down on me in an enthusiastic fashion? Is love in fact dead, worried the little red mattress.

The answer?

No of course not cos the filthy little hound had corridor creeped next door to get a butchers at her oriental foo foo (that's a type of carpet, obviously).

But can I find out if any action took place? Can I spunk as like. No one's playing with me. It's no fun when you can't get the gossip out of them!

The no 1 ladies dating agency clearly kicks ass though.
You're next you realize. I'm checking my books as we speak!


Now all this cheerful banter would be fine of course if I hadn't, minutes later, received this rather worrying response...


Thank you for your enquiry and your interest in WCRS. If you are applying for a vacancy please be assured your CV will be passed to the relevant department who will ascertain your suitability to any of their current roles. Should there be a suitable vacancy WCRS will contact you in due course, however if you don't hear back from us then please assume that on this occasion there were no suitable roles for you skills and experiance. Unfortunatley due to the high volume of applications we are unable to respond to all recuritment queries individually. Good Luck!

Yes, you guessed it, my email "send to" box had defaulted to a recent address I had been emailing. I'm guessing that there probably aren't going to be any 'roles for my skills and experience'. It is, after all, very unclear what 'skills and experience' I have demonstrated to them with the above. My superior use of grotesque imagery perhaps? My talents as a matchmaker? Or just my ability to take the charm out of any situation with my crude and unsophisticated take on things?

As a wise friend of mine pointed out - I'll either get the job or they'll send the police round, one of the two. Let's hope it's the latter, I know a girl who's got a thing for policemen.