Hi, all you potential employers out there, and welcome to my resume! Most of you know me as The Onion's resident "madcap" columnist, but truth is, I have a whole other life of which you're probably not aware: that of Jean Teasdale, Liberated Working Woman! Yep, we're talking TWENTY-FIVE YEARS of job experience here!!!! And, as you will quickly discover, this is not your usual resume! You see, resumes are usually cold, impersonal affairs--spare, simple listings of one's job history and skills. They often hide more than they reveal! But this resume is totally different, because it sports the patented Jean touch! It's so that you know that I CARE and that I am SERIOUS about my career!!! You know, employers have a tendency to hire the young and inexperienced, often because it gives them an excuse to pay them less. But did you know that you can often hire more mature and qualified people for the same amount? That's where your old pal Jean comes in!!!

P.S.: You may want to bookmark this page...it's pretty long! :)

Jean Melanne Teasdale
"A Work in Progress"
1567 Blossom Meadows Drive, Apt. 48B

Personal information:
Birthdate: August 9, 19-- (let's say it's sometime in the 20th century—the very late 20th century!!!!)
Married to Richard Teasdale since 1982; no children (yet!!!)

Education:

See my letter of recommendation!!!

Work Experience:
July 1978: My very first job!!!!! I detasseled corn at a local farm. Unfortunately, it only lasted one day. I was fired for heatstroke.

July 1978-February 1979: Worked for Cousin Calliope's Pizza. Boy, was I proud of that job!! All the kids wanted to work there. It was this theme pizza restaurant, the first one in the area (before it got run out of business by Chuck E. Cheese's), in which the waitstaff dressed up in shaggy animal or fairy tale costumes and served pizza to little birthday boys and girls! Only, I didn't wait tables. I wanted to, but they usually had me wash dishes or pick up trash in the parking lot, away from the customers. Occasionally I bussed tables, but the only costume I was allowed to wear was one of the arrow-through-the-head things (which I was more than happy to do, since Steve Martin was all the rage then, but it tended to knock pictures off the walls or get snagged in diners' hair as I walked past them). Unfortunately, I was fired after being caught trying on the Pizza Princess costume that Shanni, this stuck-up cheerleader with impossibly feathered Farrah hair, regularly wore. I just wanted to take some pictures of myself in it, and even "borrowed" my dad's camera and tripod to do it, but the manager thought I was doing something weird, and he really got mad when, in my haste to get it off, I ripped out the back seam. It was a little—no, make that a lot—tight (guess I took too much advantage of all the free bring-home pizza!). But I can look back and laugh about it now, since it was so long ago. (I was pretty crazy back then!)

August 1979-September 1980: Worked at Heinie's Silver Bowl-It at the shoe booth and concessions. This was really the first job in which I got to show off my multi-tasking skills, since I had a lot of responsibilities and I wasn't just stuck behind a single counter. I also got to interact with customers. This excited me, as I have always been a people person. Now I had my chance to be a people pleaser! But sometimes there could be some real grouches. They'd yell that the shoes I gave them didn't fit them, or the holes in the balls were too greasy. Well, I could only go by the sizes they gave me in the first place, and I couldn't exactly force people to use moist towelettes on their nacho-cheese-covered fingers beforehand!

I got let go after spilling a huge jug of soda syrup on part of the waxed and polished wooden floor in front of the lanes. I shouldn't have been down there in the first place, but it was part of a nice shortcut from the back entrance. Otherwise I would have had to climb this flight of stairs.

September 1981-April 1982: Worked for the Teen Crisis Line as a phone answerer. Actually, I answered phones for the administrative part of the organization, not the hotline itself. But sometimes teens in crisis would get confused by the phone-book listing and call my line instead, and there was no way to transfer them, so I would tell them to hang up and call this other number, and they would ask why I had specifically answered "Teen Crisis Line" in my greeting, and I would try to explain that I only answered phones for the director and her staff, but often the teens in crisis would get all belligerent and say no one would listen to them, not even the Teen Crisis Line. How stressful is that?? I swear, I put on at least 15 pounds trying to soothe myself with vending machine chocolate!! I mean, I didn't know what to say to those screwed-up kids! I got fired for the stupidest reason, too. I made the mistake of telling hubby Rick about my quandary, which of course he thought was the funniest thing he had ever heard, and sure enough, the next day at work, I get this call from a guy who's threatening to jump off a highway overpass. I could just tell it was Rick disguising his voice! I mean, it sounded soooo fake. So I said, "What's stopping you, doodyhead?" and hung up!

Well, the next day, I come into work, and a sheriff's deputy and a detective are there with my boss, and they all looked very grave. The day before, the deputy was driving onto the overpass and noticed a kid standing on it and peering over the edge! The deputy jumped out of his vehicle and, after some extremely tense negotiations, talked the kid out of jumping. On the kid's way to the hospital, he said that the Teen Crisis Line encouraged him to do it, and that it had called him a doodyhead. They investigated the calling record and traced his call to my line. Well, even after I explained the misunderstanding, my boss decided I had violated the honor system, which says that we take all calls on good faith, and let me go, even though it wasn't my job to take those calls in the first place! I think I had real grounds for challenging that one, but because I was so stressed out from the job as it was, I cleared out my desk and left anyway. The reason why I'm telling you all this is because I want to make sure you know that I can answer calls, probably just not ones from people with severe emotional problems. I was a victim of an unfortunate circumstance! Cross my heart!!

May 1982-June 1982: This is a real blast from the past, but remember the old Rax on Dolmen Road, where the Kidz Bedz now is? Well, Yours Truly prepped its salad bar and picked up trash in the parking lot. I got fired. Two years later, the Rax burned down. Coincidence? (Just kidding!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Even though police blamed the fire on arson, I swear it wasn't me who set the place on fire!!!! Cross my heart again!!!!!!!!!!)

June 1982-February 1983: I folded, wrapped, and hand-delivered copies of The West End Valu-Shopper. (For you young whippersnappers, that was a local coupon weekly in the '80s through mid-'90s; it was eventually replaced with Carousel Of Discounts.) I actually lost five pounds on that job from walking, but I eventually quit after falling flat on my keester from the icy sidewalks one too many times. Also, this was another job where people tended to be grouchy. My boss at the distribution depot said he was getting complaints on my route by people who said I dropped them off too far away from their front doors, or the protective plastic bags weren't secure enough and tended to get loose and blow into bushes and trees. You know, I think that if you're getting literally dozens of opportunities a week to save major do-re-mi on everything from yogurt cones to Rolfing, you shouldn't look it too close in the mouth. 'Nuff said.

September 1983-January 1985: If you had told me that I would be one day work for Knoeller Heating And Cooling, I would have laughed in your face. I mean, their TV ad jingle is legendary! Remember it? "At Knoeller we know just what to do/Winter is warm and summer is cool/For your family's comfort throughout the year/Knoeller turns the seasons on their ear!" And then the chorus, "Knoeller, (nah nah nah nah nah) Knoeller (comfort for your family), KnoellerÉ" I was the receptionist at the Farrell Road branch, taking customer calls and dispatching the technician guys, and I was hired by none other than Karl Knoeller himself! (Remember him? In the TV ad, he was the older guy who was revealed inside the gas furnace after the hand opened the panel, and he said "Knoeller cares about your comfort. Stop by our showroom today!" A classic!) Anyway, even though Karl was famous, he was super down-to-earth, and he hired li'l ol' me just because I reminded him of his daughter. (Can you imagine?) I took customer calls and dispatched the technician guys, which could be challenging and, sometimes, tedious work. But I also had little fun jobs like setting up displays in the showroom, and I got to meet some interesting people, like sales reps from the various companies who sold products to us. Even though I slipped up sometimes, Karl was real nice about it. Sadly, though, Karl passed away while deer hunting upstate, and his son Eric took over. Eric discovered that the company was in the red from all the debts Karl racked up, and the local ABC station was threatening to sue Knoeller for not paying its advertising bills. Sure enough, a couple months later, I got my walking papers. I thought I was a victim of staff-cutting, but then this other girl got hired in my place. In fact, I was the only person cut, despite all the money problems. I guess I reminded Eric less of a family member than a bad receptionist. I don't think it's coincidental that Knoeller has less family feeling these days. Knoeller still advertises on TV, but they no longer have the jingle, just some actors in sweaters and a golden retriever sitting around and enjoying their warm home. Then it cuts to some animation of lasers zapping out an outline of a furnace and then a real furnace fills in the outline.

April 1985-October 1985: I am only going to say this about Kmart. It is one thing to fire somebody who was $100 short on her register. It is another thing to fire someone who, up until then, had never lost any more than $10 on her register. Any coincidence that my firing took place on the eve of the end of my probation period? Hmmm. ("Veddy innn-teresting!") Also, I would have balanced if that bill wasn't counterfeit.

February 1986-June 1986: Years before Payless came to town, I worked at a discount shoe store called Sawbuck's Shoes. Yep, for five bucks or less, you could get any shoe in the store! Of course, they tended to fall apart after three days, but it was a great place to go if you had a last-minute thing like a job interview, or if you had a wedding to go to and you didn't want to spend a lot of money. Anyway, my job description included stocking and cashiering—stuff I was totally fine with—but it failed to mention all the restocking I'd have to do. If you left shoe shoppers to their own devices, they'd turn the shoe store into a war zone!!! Boxes and shoes were scattered pell-mell on the floor, shoes were paired with obviously different mates, and sometimes I'd find two left or right shoes —in the same box!! My job description also didn't say anything about a short, middle-aged Oriental man yelling at you a lot! But it's true—Mr. Choi would really give me a tongue-lashing if he found so much as a single jelly shoe on the floor. But, when I'd try to pick the place up, he'd yell at me for keeping a customer waiting at the register! Sheesh!

I got let go after Mr. Choi discovered that some final sale-marked shoes stacked on the sidewalk outside had been stolen during my watch. Imagine firing an employee over $10.00-worth of missing shoes!

May 1986-October 1986: None other than the infamous Knuckles' Road Mart, the combination truck stop, gas station, and convenience store. I waited tables there, and yeah, you could say those truckers kept me on my toes (and my fanny nice and red!!!!)!! It really was a lot like that old TV show, Alice. There was even a waitress who looked a lot like Flo! Unlike Flo, though, this lady was kind of a b_tch. (Would you like to buy a vowel?) In fact, a misunderstanding between me and this gal kind of resulted in an impromptu decision on my part to never come back to Knuckles unless I wanted a similarly titled sandwich (the kind that has five fingers and no bread!)! I don't really want to go into it, even though—to this day—I swear the only things I checked out at Knuckles were customers. (Not "Flo's" boyfriend's tushie.) Anyhow, it was a tough job and I wasn't really cut out for it.

(P.S. Since you're probably all wondering, I worked there years before that mass shooting took place. I don't even know the ex-employee who did all the shooting. Thank God none of the victims died!!! This part of the resume is dedicated to them anyway. They are heroes.)

March 1987-May 1988: Had I been given the chance, I'd still be working at Madge's Deep Freeze today. The job was soooo fun. It's something to think about...had Madge's not closed, where would I be today? An assistant manager? A manager? Or (dare I speculate?) an actual franchise operator??!? If that had happened, kiddies, there probably never would've been a Room Of Jean's Own. It's wild to think about these alternate universe things, isn't it?!? (The mind boggles!!)

Anyway, the job was real easy, plus we got to take home free ice cream at the end of the day! We didn't have a lot of menu items, and there were no dishes to wash because we served everything in paper cups or edible cones. My boss, Madge, was a real character! He (yep, "he"— don't ask me why he had a girl's name!!) was once a lawyer (disbarred, I think), but he decided people needed dessert more than legal representation! Did you know he invented ground Oreos as a soft-serve topping? Amazing but true! I firmly believe that Madge could have founded a soft-serve ice cream empire if he hadn't been a cokehead. One day, I came to work only to discover that the place had been padlocked. I guess Madge had some ties with the Mafia, and they lent him some money, and when he couldn't pay them back he skipped town. (At least, that's what I understood from the newspaper articles.) And no one has seen him since. While I hope Madge is safe and sound somewhere, I still sort of resent that my thriving career in soft-serve went straight up his nose.

June 1988-September 1988: Fortunately, I wasn't given too much time to brood about my lost opportunity, because just one month later I was hired by Beth's Pets. Of course, who doesn't dream about working at a pet store, with oodles of adorable, adoptable puppies, kitties, and bunnies? I sure did! But with time comes wisdom, and I'm no longer as enchanted with the pet retail business as I once was. If you run a pet shop and are looking for help, I wouldn't necessarily turn it down, but I'd like it stated in my work contract that I get to spend quality petting time with the critters too, and not just clean out their cages, stock shelves, cut up strips of newspaper, and work at the register. (Preferably, I'd like to work at the kind of place that doesn't sell chameleons or hermit crabs, too; the furrier the better.) Also, if you call Beth's for a reference, take the explanation that I was canned because of that dead-chinchilla-behind-the-shelf-where-they-kept-the-cat-litter incident with a grain of salt. The job to remove it from its cage was palmed off on me, only because the other workers (mostly teenagers, kind of bratty) didn't want to do it. I got so squeamish about removing it, even with thick gloves on, that I panicked and involuntarily jerked it up high in the air. I didn't know where it went! After a long search I still couldn't find it, and since I had closing-up duties and no one saw me toss it in the first place, I decided to resume the search early the next morning. Well, turns out an early-bird shopper beat me to it, and of course I got blamed with no acceptance of my explanation. I think that, in a responsible pet store, when a critter dies, a designated dead pet cleaner-upper should handle it. And the cleaner-upper should be the type who's into that sort of thing, not a sensitive and caring person like me.

December 1988-March 1989: OK, Jeanketeers, I bet you're asking now, what disastrous thing happened at City Slicker Liquor? You were held up at gunpoint and the experience was so traumatic you had to quit? You unknowingly sold liquor to an underage kid with a fake ID and an undercover cop noticed and the store was heavily fined and you were fired? Nope: I mistook crates of unopened Mickey's Big Mouths for trash. Losing the job didn't really bother me, as I didn't really care for it in the first place. I only accepted it as a favor to Rick, who thought he'd be on Easy Street because of my employee discount. (When he found out I was fired, he actually moved out of our apartment!!! But that's a tale for another time.)

LOOK FOR MORE UPDATES TO THIS PAGE LATER, IN WHICH I DESCRIBE MY BRIEF STINTS AT TOYS "R" US, BOWERS OF FLOWERS, RED NOSES & BIG HEARTS, LITTLE MISS HISTORY DOLLS & STORIES, SOUTHCENTRAL INSURANCE, AND FASHION BUG!!!!!

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