“Mike, look, the post office is hiring,” Bob tipped his head at the encased poster, “but you’re past the age limit.”
“Hey Bob. Yeah, you wouldn’t get away with a recruitment ad like that these days.” Mike smiled.
“You mean the part about orphans preferred, the age limit, or the young, skinny thing?” asked Bob.
“All of it.” Mike said. “It’s tough finding people. We need a few…and they don’t even need to ride a horse.”
“Don’t you have ‘em lining up? I would think working at a microbrewery would be a great gig for some people.” said Bob, grabbing his SAVE for TAXES letters and feeding birthday postcards from his chiropractor and insurance agent into the garbage bin. “What are you doing to fill them? Wanted sign in the window?”
“Oh yeah, that, Facebook, and a staffing place…but they don’t have many people in their database these days.”
“Sounds like a lot of my clients. One needs a parts manager and a mechanic. My bank guy called about doing an employment ad. He was asking about E-E-O language.”
“E-E-O sure doesn’t fit with that old poster. Willing to risk death has a bit more punch.”
“Ha! You’re right. A good recruitment ad calls people out… How about, ‘Must be willing to balance beverages with high caloric content. High wages. Spillage punishable by death.’”
“Funny.”
“It’s a gift…but I am kind of serious. You need to write something aimed at the person not the job.” Bob continued in a caricatured radio-announcer style, “Can you bear a beer-laden tray, pirouette through tables, and catch a thirsty eye across a music-filled room? Can you talk to three people at once, make change, and take on an extra shift on short notice? Are you skinny, wiry, under 19 and preferably an orphan?”
“Wait a minute…”
“Okay.” Bob smiled. “Just riffing. But the wanted poster has a point… in spirit. I can help you write something. I just need some to know about the kind of people you’re looking for, the actual jobs, and maybe a little more about you and your partners.”
“Really? We’ve increased the pay.”
“Better wages help…but it’s not always about the money. You have some people who have been there from the beginning. They must like it and do a good job. Or do you have something on them?”
“Funny.”
“Look who’s here… Statler and Waldorf!” Jackie joked, slipping a key into her P.O. Box. She knew Bob and Mike back when they were in ad club together before it faded fifteen years ago.
“Now that you mention it…the muppet show is over. Back to work.” Mike raised his eyebrows,” Hey Jackie, ever thought about working in the fast-paced world of micro-breweries?”
Bob nodded to the poster. “Mike needs a help-wanted ad like the pony express.”
“Ha, y’know that’s the post office version of art right?” Jackie grinned and pocketed her key.
Bob nodded. “Yep, recruitment is an art… an art indeed.”
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