Michael A. Nettleton
In ages past, wealthy
families might hire a man to live in a hovel on a vast estate. Apparently it was
a status symbol of the highest order to employ a hermit. I don’t know what
building a hovel involved. Perhaps an early version of IKEA.
I wondered how a Duke
or Lord or Viscount would find a suitable hermit. Did his estate manager grill
potential candidates? If a grilling took place today, would it look something
like this?
(Door creaks open. Burly
wild-haired man shuffles in.)
HR: Hello. Thank you
for applying to be Lord Bloviate’s Hermit. Do you mind if I use the Hermit to
English translation app on my phone?
Hermit: Sitting, nodding, and mumbling something indecipherable.
HR: (Glancing at phone)
I agree. The train service from Bumblegravy is atrocious.
Hermit: mbrgmbrsucks.
HR: Let’s begin,
shall we? My name is Letitia Stiffgarter. And you are . . . ? (She consults
a grimy resume scratched on tree bark.)
Hermit: Mfrdfman
HR: Morfor Dlorfman.
Right. And what qualifications do you bring?
Hermit: (animated) Snorrrrrrrt.
HR: I see. You lived in a cave in the
Cotswolds. I’m the first human being you’ve spoken with for the last 20 years.
So, you’re experienced at solitude. And what is your specific skill set?
Hermit: (sounding like he’s listing things) Hng,
Ya ha, Ya ha, blnfoopung.
HR: You’re adept at hiding,
jumping out from behind bushes, speaking gibberish and mouth-breathing.
Excellent! (She marks the bark.)
Hermit: Schlorppp!
HR: And drooling
You’re known for your drooling.
Hermit: (proudly) Schlorppp!
HR: Consistently top
5 worldwide for length of drool. Impressive. Now, if we hire you, the hovel, rudimentary
furniture, and scraps from the kitchen will be provided. Will that be adequate?
Hermit: (shrugging) Gooeygoop!!!
HR: Mud. You mostly
eat mud.
Hermit: (nods
and performs finger pushups on the table.)
HR: And the
occasional spider. Got it. When could you take up residence?
Hermit: (waggles a
finger) Kaching!
HR: What’s that? We haven’t discussed benefits?
Hermit: (Nods
and mimes using a channel changer) Karrrrdashians. Instagram.
HR: Cable television
and Wi-Fi?
Hermit: Kaching!!!
HR: And a salary? Why
do you need money?
Hermit: (hums
the graduation march)
HR: Kids to put
through college. Seriously? I mean you’re a hermit. How did that happen?
Hermit: (shrugs and
grins) Grmbgbr! Chick magnet.
HR: Oooh-kay. Well,
what are your salary expectations?
Hermit: (produces a
card)
HR: You belong to a
union? Hermits, recluses and troglodytes local 452?
Hermit: (raises
a fist) Schlorrrppp!!! Kaching!!!
HR: Minimum pay is
$50 an hour? Double for holidays? (She shakes her head.) I don’t think so.
Hermit: Snorrrrt.
Huh!
HR: You’re in demand? Really? Let’s
review. No people skills. Poor communication. Total lack of grooming. Surly
attitude. Who’d hire you?
Hermit: (picking
up an imaginary telephone and lilts) Ucken!!
HR: Government help
line?
Hermit: (gruffly then
snorts) Your call is very important to us . . .
