Nature Calls

naturecalls1

 

“Would you please just walk down there and see what it is that he needs done?” My mom asked as we stood in my office listening to the sounds of saws ripping wood, nails being driven and curse words sailing across the void.

I sighed and looked out the window at the structure being erected in the yard down the low sloping hill outside my office. The heat radiated outside the window in shimmering waves and I could already feel it on my recently sun burnt skin. I could feel the beginnings of my skin shedding around my shoulders and had to fight the urge to tear my clothes off and scrape my skin off with a toilet brush.

“Have you ever had neighbours that didn’t feel the need to renovate the house next door?” I asked as I passed a had over my stubbled cheeks. With the temperatures reaching an unseasonable high, all I wanted was to play Depth Charge with a six-pack in my pool. A game which basically involves me drinking beer while floating on a pool noodle and waiting to see which can sinks my battleship.

“It can’t be much,” Mom countered while ushering me out the door “It’s just a back yard shed.”

Grumbling about the male nurses at the nursing home she was fast tracking her self towards fondling her in her sleep, I wandered around the driveway, past the large trampoline and down the grade to the Frankenstein style structure being erected. A saw was chewing its way through a board with the ferociousness of a toothless prostitute gumming a cob of uncooked corn. I heard a muttered curse and saw Rocky, the square-jawed and equally flat-headed military neighbour step out from behind the wood frame.

“Looks great.” I said with a half sarcastic tone that matched my smile as I roamed the large rectangular building.

“It sure will be when its done.” Rocky said as he joined me in the single shady spot in the yard mingling his wood dust scent with my asphalt odor creating a scent that would drive long-term death row inmates into a sexual frenzy.

“If you don’t mind my asking,” I continued as I took a half shuffling step back towards heterosexuality ” It’s kind of big for a back yard shed, isn’t it?”

“Well, that the thing, it’s more of a workshop. My kids are always getting into my tools and I just wanted somewhere I could go to get away from them. Plus I can store the trampoline ” Rocky said with a bit of admiration at his own handy work.

“Sounds like a solid idea. You just need a roof on it I suppose.” I said already knowing the answer.

“I will get everything you need. I just need a couple of days to get it up.” Rocky said not catching my snort at the idea of it taking days to get it up. I mean they have pills for that I believe.

“Just let me know when things are firmed up.” I laughed and headed back up to my truck.

Over the next few days, I watched with laughable patience as the structure took shape. Large benches and the frames for what could only be built-in sofas took shape and I was subtly impressed at the detail that was going into a simple back yard workshop. I watched early one morning as the delivery truck backed into the driveway and delivered the last of the materials needed including everything for the roof.

My day ended early and I figured I would just simply suck up the couple of hours it would take to slap the roof on this weirdly appointed structure. The temperature had finally broke the night before with a thunderstorm of sphincter tightening proportions and left the air cool and free of humidity. I slung my tool belt over my shoulder and stole a Diet Coke out my Mom’s fridge before down the driveway.

I could hear muffled grunting and the squeaking of springs as I neared the back of the house. I assumed Rocky was moving the trampoline and figured I would offer a hand. I heard a louder groan that caused me to pause but I knew they could be a pain to move having slung my own kids trampoline around the backyard a couple of times a year to cut the grass under it after it reached the growing up through the trampoline stage.

There was work being done in the yard when I finally crossed over behind the house but it wasn’t much I was going to help with. I know there is something biological that drives animals to dizzying acts of sexual deviance but I certainly wasn’t prepared to see my Mom’s neighbours stripped to their waists having energetic and somewhat dangerous sex on a trampoline. Rocky’s exposed white ass cheeks could have guided in a lost boat at sea with their brightness and his equally pale wife looked like she was being shaken by a paint mixer.

The sight was almost hypnotic. I chuckled as the idea of clearly my throat loudly came and went at roughly the same time I think Rocky did. I sauntered back up the hill and figured my afternoon was ruined with the haunting visions of white dangling balls slapping  black poly mesh until I saw Rocky walking around the side of the house. He waved me down and I hesitated before walking back down. I had no idea if I could keep what I had just seen to myself without giggling like a Japanese school girl.

“Everything’s ready for you.” Rocky said as he pulled the tail of his shirt out of his obviously hastily pulled up shorts before unconsciously adjusting the front of his shorts and grimacing slightly.

“I know I watched the truck drop off the material,” I said “So I walked down a few minutes ago.”

Rocky eyed my questioningly as I realized what I had said. I figured I should just get it over with at that point.

“I maybe should have waited for a few more minutes.” I stammered until I saw Rocky break out in a shit eating grin.

“Maybe,” he said “But then you could have watched me wedge my balls between the edge and a spring trying to get off that fucking trampoline. Do you have any idea how uncomfortable something like that is?”

“Oddly enough I do,” I answered quickly “I froze my sack to a fence post last winter while I was running.”

 

Sometimes You Just Have To Go

 

poop outside

There’s pretty much one way to poop indoors. In a toilet.

No real room for creativity. Or at least functional creativity. Outdoors, though, the world is your canvas.

When you work construction, leaving the job site to poop is always a delicate balance of timing and distance. If the bathroom is too far away to get to on a break then you often end up clenched up trying to avoid launching the butt shuttle. Doing delicate work when you are baking some brownies is nearly impossible so you are often forced to find somewhere to hide and make a Minnesota hand warmer.

If you are exceptionally lucky, the home owner you are working for will have a bathroom they don’t mind strangers using. When construction workers descend on a bathroom after morning coffee and monstrous meat sandwiches for lunch it is literally like walking onto the deck of an oil rig drilling for mud bunnies.

So that leaves you the creative option of finding some place to drop your pants. I have constructed elaborate leaning towers of plywood that fool the eye when you looked at them like magician’s closet people disappear into. These usually take time and that isn’t always on option.

Desperate times call for desperate measures.

The winter had faded and Spring asserted itself with a day that saw temperatures rise to testicle slow roasting levels. The kind of day where you started out wearing a winter jacket in the morning and stripping down to your underwear to drive home. The house we were working on was in the dead centre of a subdivision whose back yards all faced each other. The home owner was an elderly couple that had just returned from the annual wintering in Florida. They were both easily as tanned as I was after an entire season soaking up rays. They must have been used to hosting people frequently as the lady of the house brought out coffee in the cold morning light and egg salad sandwiches as the sun reached its zenith.

Not long after lunch, I felt the tell-tale gurgle in my stomach that started my internal clock ticking down to the time I would need to deploy my Navy SEAL team for “Operation Tootsie Roll”. It wasn’t long. A bomb was going to go off in my colon that would destroy my ass like Godzilla destroys Tokyo. I bolted for the ladder to head down off the roof but stopped as my stomach clenched up violently. I sucked my butt cheeks in tighter than every duck face selfie ever taken and shimmied down the ladder.

There was no way I could make the nearest coffee shop and I wasn’t going to drop the kids off in this ladies pool.

I scoured the yard quickly before finding a possible spot. There was a garden shed that hid a small space beside the back deck that if I dropped my coveralls and scooted backwards I could wedge my ass into it. I was in that panicked state of not wanting to shit my pants but not wanting to do it in the middle of a subdivision. My stomach made the choice for me at that point by gurgling once and then holding its breath.

I snapped my coverall straps off faster than a big breasted girl snaps off her bra at the end of the work day and frog hopped my ass back into the hole. What happened next does not need a full descriptive narrative other than to say when I straightened up it looked like someone had painted the back of the garden shed with a shotgun full of baby food. I shook my head looking behind me but not as violently as when I saw the fact I had splashed liquid sewage down the inside leg of my coveralls.

I groaned at the idea of having to pull them back up but it was either that or try to sneak across the yard to my truck with only a t-shirt on. With a shudder that must have looked like a dog shaking off from a dip in a septic tank, I pulled my clothes back into place. I stepped in a pool of egg salad and my own tears and heard it lap up the sides of my boots.

I shuffled towards the truck when I heard the front door open and the lady of the house emerge with a tray of coffee and cookies. My stomach rebelled again and I clenched up even tighter. If I was going to make it through the rest of the day I had to somehow get cleaned up.

“How’s everything going?” she asked with a smile as plastered on her face as the garish make up that must have been fashionable in her trailer park in Florida.

“Pretty good.” I lied as I felt something cold slide down my calf.

“Well, I thought you might like some cookies,” she said as she set the tray on a chair she clearly at on while chain-smoking “They should be okay but might be a bit stale. They were what we had before we went south.”

The realization that the eggs she had made the sandwiches with were likely as old as the cookies sent my stomach rolling in new-found panic.

“Ma’am, I believe I may have stepped in dog poop somewhere in your yard and was wondering if you had a hose I could rinse my boots off with.” I continued to lie.

“It’s right around the corner by the deck stairs.” She replied to my implied question and I shuffled in a bow-legged walk towards it. I ripped down my pants and hosed off the horror that was trapped inside. In my shit addled brain I assumed it would be easier to sit in wet pants the rest of the day as opposed to poopy ones.

I heard a lighter flick and a chair creak as the home owner sat in the opposing chair to the one with the coffee. She took a long drag off her cigarette before I heard her voice across the yard.

“If you wouldn’t mind hosing off the back of the shed when you are done I would really appreciate it.”

The Question 11 Story

As promised , I said I would make special note of the most creative answer to my infamous question 11 from my Liebster Award post. For those in need of a refresher I asked –

You can choose between either watching your parents have sex everyday for the rest of their lives or join in once and never see it again. Pick one ( the most creative answer will get me to tell them the story of how I got asked that question).

The best answer in all its cringe worthy glory was given by The White Onion. A spin-off from a question into one of the most disturbingly visual answers you can possibly imagine. So as promised, the story that led to the question.

Call me old-fashioned but I can remember when pornography was something kept well hidden. Relegated to the very back of a closet or even worse your dad’s sock drawer, it was something to be scoured out and then just as rapidly tucked back away. Maybe it was a simpler time back when I was a teenager.  I mean today porn has gone mainstream. Thanks to the internet its more readily available than ever. Leading to more acceptable forms of sex than ever before.  I mean in my younger years, girls were like ” ANAL!!! NO WAY AM I TRYING THAT!!!!”. Today its like ” YAYYYYY ANAL!!!! I CAN’T GET PREGNANT!!!!”.

It was also something people were proud of to show off at a party like they had just got some new fondue set or concocted some new drink or discovered weed for the first time. Something to shock and impress with.

I was in my last year of high school and as most high school parties go, it’s mostly about posturing and drama. Who’s cheating on who. Who’s gonna get drunk and puke first. Which girl is going to come out of the bathroom with semen in her hair. We have all been to parties like that.

The thing is though, most high school parties were pretty boring. The fact that unless you had an older sibling willing to buy booze with money you pinched out of your parents change jar or the house where the party was being held was owned by people with a large liquor cabinet and Alzheimer’s disease pretty much meant you sat around waiting for something to happen. People quickly got bored with that so the host, James decide to pull a rabbit out of the magic hat.

” Who want’s to watch some porn?” James asked in a voice loud enough for everyone in the house to hear. All eyes turned to him to see if he was serious. In his hand he held a VHS cassette with no labels and markings on it. Another truth about those days was that while every girl in the place may have said ” EWWWW, no,” they all wanted to see it just as bad as the guys did just to say they had. It’s all about the story right? Being able to tell everyone on Monday that you had seen a porno at the party you were at on the weekend.

Without even pausing, James stuffed the tape into the player and flipped the television on. We all sat transfixed as the grainy picture came into focus and seemed to be already at the point where we had gone through the obligatory bad story line and hit the hardcore portion. The lighting was awful and the camera was at a fixed angle but to any one who was not a porn aficionado, it was still porn. The scene featured a woman who by any porn standards was about forty pounds over weight and a reclining man with a hairy, beer belly that jutted out to the point he likely couldn’t see his erect penis.  Without delay, the woman gave a small smile and dove her head into the man’s groin like an Olympic diver.

The obligatory ” oooooing” was followed by mildly uncomfortable laughter. None of this stopped anyone from shifting their seat or position to get a better view of the screen.  Laughter soon gave way to almost silence as the woman raised herself up and with a minor belly shifting, impaled herself on the guys spit slicked penis. The silence was incredibly brief as a roar echoed from the kitchen door way.

” FUCKING TURN THAT OFF RIGHT NOW!!!!! THAT’S MY FUCKING PARENTS!!!” James screamed as he barreled across the living room to put his body between the screen and everyone.

His roar was followed closely behind by an eruption of laughter like a spring thunderstorm that rippled through the house. Every eye turned to him trying to cover the screen and eject the tape at the same time. He kept looking back over his shoulder to see who was still watching as his mom began to groan like hydraulic crane lifting an air conditioner unit. This brought even louder peels of laughter.

” I could watch that every single day,” Someone said as James finally managed to get the tape out and stomp across the room glaring at everyone as he walked by.

” Fuck that,” Another voice called out,” I would just join in.”

James reemerged visibly shaken.

” Fuck all of you,” James said with a wavering voice, ” No one can ever tell anyone we saw that.” In a room full of people in the pre cellphone era it was possible but unlikely. That story would be around the school by nine in the morning Monday and would have grown to epic proportions likely including midgets and some sort of exotic music and flashing lights.

” If you were forced to watch that again wouldn’t it just be easier to join in?” I asked James with a barely covered laugh.

” I would rather watch that every day for the rest of my life than have to be even in the room with that for five seconds,” James answered with a resolve that put steel in his spine.

” Too bad,” I shot back,” Looks like your mom really knows her way around a penis.”

” I fucking hate all of you,” James growled as he stomped away to his room.

” Anybody know where he hid that tape?” I asked.

Thus was born a legend and a question. As far as myself in answering it, it’s pretty simple. I would watch it. No one said I had to keep my eyes open.

The ” You Got Caught” Story

As I have said many times, no one ever looks around. Most people spend so much of their time focused on getting to and from whatever task they are attempting that they never look around to see who might be watching them.  Its human nature really.

In much the same way its human nature to assume you will never gt caught doing something you shouldn’t. I am sure the prisons are full of convicts who thought what they were doing was a perfectly logical idea at the time.

I have worked on every type of house there is from the glitziest, multi million dollar mansions to homes that should have long since fallen over let alone have anyone live there.  All of our customers are treated the same and I think they respect me and my business for it.  That respect leads us to being trusted with keys and access to buildings that most people don’t. My truck keys look like a high school janitors for all the keys I have that I haven’t returned over the years but every once in a while we need someone to let us into a building or home.

We got a call to look at a home in our area owned by an out-of-town millionaire that used it only sparingly when they visited.  We met the maintenance man, Mike at the main gate set back off a wooded path I was actually concerned my truck wouldn’t fit down.  Mike was a huge guy with a big, booming voice and hands the size of hams but he was smiling when we met him.

” Not many people get to come up here,” Mike said, ” You guys must be pretty good.”

” I guess we will find out,” I answered. I tried not to let the nervousness rolling around in my stomach creep into my voice.  I had heard that this particular millionaire was very hard to please and I hoped it was going to lead into larger and more lucrative jobs.

As we pulled down the wooded path behind Mikes truck, a run down house appeared on the right and my heart sank.  The place was in total disrepair and needed to be struck by lightning rather than have me go anywhere near it.  We continued past this decrepid  nightmare and towards a second locked gate.  Mike opened the locks and led us up a hill to a house that was state of the art science fiction in the 1950’s.

The job itself was fairly simple. The roof was shot, the windows all cracked and a chimney crumbling to dust as we watched.  After sizing it up and checking the interior we headed back out to the secondary gate but before we could get there Mike stopped his truck and jumped out and headed back towards my truck.

” Someone is breaking into the staff house,” Mike said quietly,” I just phoned the police. Stay here.”

Now normally, I would have done just that but as we waited, Mike walked towards the staff house only to find us right behind him.  A white, four door truck was parked right in the shadow of the run down house and we crept as close as we could before we noticed the doors of the house were still all closed. All the windows still intact.

That’s when we heard the moaning. Followed by our laughter.

” I knew it,” Mike said bristly, ” I thought that guy was looking to break into the place. He’s been snooping around the property for days.”

As we watched, a police cruiser pulled up behind the truck and turned its flashing lights on. A woman’s voice screamed ” OH MY GOD!!!” and we all doubted it was from the pleasure she had just seconds before receiving. A man in near nakedness tumbled from the truck and failed miserably to pull up his pants over a rapidly deflating erection. That brought out peals of laughter from us and sharp looks from the police officers as they approached the vehicle.

A crying woman exited the vehicle shortly there after and we felt bad but still continued to giggle. She was completely disheveled and it brought a gasp from Mike.

” Son of a bitch,” Mike breathed ” That’s my neighbour”

” Is that a problem?” I asked.

” Might be,” Mike replied,” That’s not her husband.”

The police questioned the couple briefly before approaching Mike.  He stood not really knowing what to say and I stood simply trying not to roll around on the road laughing.The police officer asked Mike if he wanted them charged with trespassing and his answer was as shocking as it was funny.

” Hell yes I want them charged,” Mike asked with a roar,” I thought I was the only guy she was fucking behind her husbands back.”

The Last Day of School Story

If you have read any of my previous posts it would appear that over my years as a contractor I have grown into some of the embarrassment that has seemed to assail my career. Not so. At all.

From a very early age, I was truly destined for greatness. In the most embarrassing ways possible.

It was the first day of summer vacation in between graduating grade and entering high school and while all of my other friends were basking in the summer sun by cold pools while their parents made plans to get away to the cottage or some trendy vacation spot, I was awoken very early to head to work with my dad.

Being self-employed has very little upside as far as getting time off goes. Working six or seven days a week does not lead itself to many family vacations and as soon as you are of recruitable age in my family you usually find yourself sweating your ass off somewhere you know you don’t want to be.

All I needed to do that day was help my dad measure up buildings for a massive school board contract. All fairly simple stuff except the schools were almost an hour away from where we lived and it felt like it was a million degrees out.  After the first couple of buildings, I had resigned myself to the day being as miserable as possible. To counteract the heat, I was chugging as many bottles of soda as I could convince my dad to buy me ( Yes, that shows my age, wow, I miss glass bottles). I believe in literary terms that’s called foreshadowing.

The day was wearing on and as we neared the last of the schools we would measure, the need to pee was becoming overwhelming.  As we began to size the last few roofs we had to look at, I was nearly busting a kidney.  as my dad was checking the last few details on the paperwork, I bolted for the ground to find somewhere to pee.

As I bolted for the truck, I knew I couldn’t hold it any longer. I unzipped and instantly began peeing a stream that would have put out the Great Fire of Chicago. A shudder of relief flooded through me and I momentarily closed my eyes in bliss. As I blinked my eyes open in the sparkling sunlight, I realized that the sun was reflecting off the multiple panes of glass of a large auditorium whose curtains where rapidly opening.

There was no way I could stop peeing and I stood there, penis in hand as the entire student body and faculty of the school watched me pee beside my dads truck.

With a loud banging of the doors, the principal of the school barged out and instantly began to harass my dad about the fact that in their school board today, not yesterday, was the last day of school. My dad, to his great professionalism, took it all in stride and calmed the situation down. At least until we got into the truck upon which time I believe he called me everything but his son. I was so embarrassed, I literally had no words. embarrassed for me, embarrassed for him, embarrassed my penis wasnt bigger.

The drive towards home was silent for a while before my dad looked over and let out a laugh. ” Don’t worry,” He said, ” Next time, I will take a huge dump in the parking lot and let them all watch”.

He passed away almost eight years ago and of all the great things we did together this is the dumb shit I choose to write about. You never get over the loss a father, a mentor and a friend. Maybe someday I’ll get the chance to take that dump for you Dad.

The Frozen Zipper Story

One of the true misconceptions about being a contractor is that we get the winters off. That is complete crap. Winter is usually the worst season to do much of anything but it doesn’t mean we close up shop and head south. Don’t get me wrong, the idea of being a jet set contractor is appealing. Work summers in Canada and build grass huts in Costa Rica in the winter is something I could easily get used to but the truth is, I hate flying and I can’t speak a word of Spanish.

What it means is that I spend my winters unplugging frozen roof drains, gutters and generally freezing my ass off. Which leads us to this little vignette.

Not a lot of people know that water pipes freeze in winter. Shocking, right? Unheated buildings that still have water mains can have major issues if not maintained. Another little perk of my business is the fact that no matter where water ends up in a building, people naturally assume it starts at the roof.

The call came in early one January morning. Water was literally flooding a furniture warehouse nearby. The temperature had dropped to nearly minus 28 in the overnight with windchill pushing it below minus 40. I bundled up as best I could and hurried quickly to the place.

When I entered the building, flood did not even come close. Water was literally streaming every where. Down walls, off roof drains, ceiling plumbing, pretty much everywhere. Not only that but as cold as it was it was freezing rapidly.  Without realizing it, I had quickly become soaked through to the skin and still had to go back outside. Not wanting to prolong the process, I went outside and set up our ladder and climbed up on the roof. The temperature had been weird the last few days so a crust of ice had formed over a few inches of water and clogged a drain. Cracking through it, I cleared the drain and watched the water flow like someone had flushed a toilet.  Assuming the problem fixed, I stood and watched the water recede as I stood shivering in the cold.

Now water does funny things. Especially when its cold. Most specifically, it freezes. More importantly, it freezes everything. Clothes, gloves, boots ….. and zippers. I had already downed three cups of coffee that morning and by now desperately had to pee.

The zipper to my overall pants was literally a block of ice. Fighting madly, I pulled and tugged to no avail. I attacked my coat zipper just as ferociously. I think I actually ripped the collar of my coat in my futile attempts. Whining like a dog and flailing like an enraged monkey, I pulled and clawed at my frozen clothes to get them open as my bladder and kidneys screamed for relief.

The realization dawned on me that I was frozen shut. Whats a guy to do? To quote the great Billy Madison ” You aint cool unless you pee ya pants!” No one was around and I was almost in tears I had to pee so bad so I let it fly.  In theory, peeing yourself just sounds bad. In application, its much worse. Frozen on the outside with a cascade of warmth on the inside that while feeling quite nice actually revolted me just made my day that much worse.

Having done all I could do to stop the leakage, I went down the ladder to meet the maintenance staff who would inform me that a water main had frozen and busted in the frigid temperatures and it wasnt a roof issue at all. I actually think I steamed my jacket open. Infuriated, I headed to the truck to warm up.

When I got back to the office, my mom, our office manager met me at the door with a cup of coffee. Upon seeing my soaked condition and the odors coming off me she remarked ” What the hell happened? Sewer line back up?”

” Yeah, Mom,” I replied'” Something like that.”

The Naked Site Meeting Story

Construction of any kind is dirty.

As a professional roofing contractor, I spend the majority of my days hot, sweaty, dirty and fairly smelly. It’s not glamorous in any capacity I assure you. The perks are amazing though. killer tan in the summer and days off during the winter when the weather is not great.

From time to time however, when big contracts come up, it requires me to shine myself up and go to meetings to put the best look out there for the company and try to win the job.

It had been a miserably hot day. The sun was baking my entire team like cookies in an oven on the job we were on. To say this job was dirty was an understatement. The wood on older homes tends to get dusty and gritty which somehow feels the need to coat us like black powdered donuts almost instantly. By nine that morning we were all so covered in grime I could actually feel it in my teeth. The humidity was causing us all to sweet so bad that the grime quickly became an oozing slime that couldn’t easily be wiped off.

On a normal day being that dirty wouldn’t really be an issue but I had a site meeting at two in the afternoon and would be pushing it close to get home to shower before I could get there.  As the day wore on I began to panic but quickly came to the realization that I would just have to do my best to clean up on the job site.  The house we were working on backed onto a fenced parking lot of a dentist’s office so I figured I could slip behind the building and at least get rid of the top layers of filth.

After delegating the last few things to be done to my team, I snuck around the back of the house and found the garden hose. I peeled off my sodden t-shirt and cranked the water to full strength. After being so hot all day, the water was so cold it almost stung. Working my way from my head down, I watched as the dirt washed away to uncover my dark tan. What I hadn’t counted on was the river of filth completely coating my pants.

It wasnt that big a deal as I had to change completely but I hadn’t really planned on doing it in someones back yard. Quickly scanning around, I dropped my pants and underwear and finished hosing off the rest of the dirt that had soaked through my pants and underwear. As I reached for my bag of clothes I realized that I was completely naked in a customers back yard and the blinds on the second floor of the dentist’s office were now open.

While it appeared that I hadn’t noticed I was naked, the three dental hygienists in the window certainly had.

With an almost yelp, I grabbed my bag of clothes, covered my exposed penis and hid as best as I could under the awning of the customers back deck. In hindsight I should have realized that by doing that the only thing that was covered from the angle the were looking was my face. After getting dressed and walking towards my truck I heard a bang on the glass and got three very satisfied waves from three smiling dental workers. What was I going to do? I waved back and went to my meeting.

To this day, I still don’t know if I got any referrals from those girls watching me strip in a backyard but I stand by my reasoning. When you own the business you will do anything to get the job.