Meet Harold. And His Mom.

Meet Harold. And His Mom.

by Kerry Scott on 8 May 2009

273310838_ff24ce8f0fPhoto by gluemoon

Harold was kind of a loser.

The job wasn’t one that most people would want anyway.  It mostly involved being an office gofer, running stuff around and getting lunches and putting up with obnoxious, overpaid consultants.  As a result our candidate pool was always odd when we had to fill the position, which was fairly often.

Harold, though, had the kind of interview that would have made for a Tale of the Cluefree in itself.  He smelled bad.  He swore in the interview.  He asked if he could smoke in my office because it would “make him less spazzy.”  He told me I looked hot in my pantsuit.  He said he left his last job because his boss was “kind of a dick.”  It was just a bad scene all around.

So obviously we didn’t hire him.  We sent him the standard rejection letter the day after the interview, and we hired someone else.

The next day, I started getting calls from him.  I could tell the calls were coming from his house because of the caller ID.  I didn’t answer the phone the first few times because I was on another call, and he called 11 times in 10 minutes.  I continued to get calls from that number every minute or two for a couple of hours.  Finally I answered the phone, prepared to deal with Harold.

It wasn’t Harold.  It was his mom.

And before you ask—Harold was at least 40 years old.

The mom begged me to give Harold a job.  She said he’d been living in her house for 10 years and she couldn’t take it anymore.  She said he smoked pot every day and it stunk up her house.  He ate all her food.  He took cash from her wallet.  She was tired of it, and she needed him to get a job.

I let her rant for a bit (she didn’t leave me much choice), and then reiterated that we had filled the job, and told her to have Harold contact me directly if he had questions.  When she realized I wasn’t going to find “he smokes pot every day and I’m tired of it” to be a compelling argument, she got mad and started screaming at me that she hoped I had a son like Harold so I’d know what it was like.  She also said we were discriminating against him (on what basis, I’m not sure—he was a white male who smelled bad and stole money from his mom, which so far is not a protected class).

Kids, don’t let your moms call your employers.  Ever.

Tales of the Cluefree appear pretty much every Friday.  Past stories are here.

Facebook Twitter Linkedin Stumbleupon Email

Other posts you might like:


class factotum May 8, 2009 at 8:08 am

“she hoped I had a son like Harold”

Yeah, because sons like Harold aren’t made, they’re born.

class factotum’s last blog post..Marriage 101, Lecture 125: Picking up at the airport

Charles May 8, 2009 at 8:16 am

Now, why on earth didn’t you refer Harold or at least his mom to the dumpster diving ad? That sounds like the job for him. It would get him out of her house for the day and his personal aroma would be a perfect fit.

HRPufnstuf May 8, 2009 at 1:04 pm

I just snorted Mt. Dew out of my nose I was laughing so hard!

Holly May 10, 2009 at 11:47 pm

So funny and so sad! I had to tell an employee and his mother (both of whom were employed by my company) that she could not sit in on a meeting with him. It was not the only time that we had to remind her that her son was an adult and we needed to deal directly with him. Never had a story this outrageous, though. Thanks for sharing.

Holly’s last blog post..Hurt Feelings Report

Ronnie Ann May 11, 2009 at 9:54 am

Still laughing. Looks like the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. But I also can’t help feeling sad for them both. Still..this is a GREAT post about how not to interview. And oh my god yes…if you’re a mom, NEVER EVER call me or anyone else interviewing your son!!!

Thanks for sharing a great story.

Ronnie Ann

Ronnie Ann’s last blog post..Days Off Are Way Better If You Actually Have a Job!

Comments on this entry are closed.

Previous post:

Next post: