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how having a good cutback gets the best job.

There are six others in the lobby, women and men. Some chatting, drinking coffee – reading the finance pages. Lounging. Over there by the  reception desk a bewildering array of beautiful women answer the phones. Fat little accountants waddle past midst their grave pretensions. Lawyers slide on by, very very busy, very early.

We are here for the position advertised.

This particular job offers $150,000 pa plus all the extras and you have bought your verifiable and fully documented pats on the back from everyone who ever taught or employed you. Your CV and related documents. This is where we are headed here.

– and all the firm needs is a recent picture of your cutback. So say hi to Surferwatch.

Advanced capital economies are driven by successful corporations whose ranks are supplemented by world class athletes whose only qualification is their documented prowess at their given sport. This is the drill. Olympic gold medals = a life of professional working leisure. Some American professional footballers, despite having had their brain surgically removed at birth, have secured employment in many of the world’s largest corporations. They do well.

This is our aspiration.

Surfers though are at a complete disadvantage in that some of their supreme moments are executed  away in the back beaches and reefs of some of the world’s most secluded islands. Nobody sees that barrel, or the that airdrop onto almost exposed coral – and more importantly – that ripping on edge full-speed roundhouse cutback. Nobody but the other blokes on the boat, most of whom spend a better part of the day sleeping off the previous night’s binge – either that or they are almost permanently perched up on the bow straining to be freed of whatever it was that boiled their gut.

No matter, that last session should be on a man’s CV – and in video.

Now it can be.

The Accounting Position.

This is how it goes; an applicant (number 1) is taken into an interview room where he greets the corporation’s recruiter, they sit, there is coffee. They chat about this and that. This is the preamble.

Then comes the throw, the pitch. This is where the applicant – some young accountant two hours out of the water from Narrabeen – runs his educational accomplishments and commercial experiences past the hirer. Plus the CV, resume, references, University ties, Degree, Old Boy considerations. Phone numbers, strings to the upper floors.

Then it’s all done. All silent.

The hirer excuses himself just a second and tic tacs away on his slim silver laptop. Enters the applicant’s name / address / licence number /  beach / date .. into the new googlesurf application, Surferwatch. A camera everywhere, every beach – every spot, everywhere.

Comes up with this. Taken two hours ago at Narrabeen.

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Would YOU hire this guy? Seriously ..?

He should get the fuck out of here.

Next.

The Law Firm vacancy.

Applicant (number 2). She waits for the legal partner to have his shower and change shirts. Lawyers are relaxed like that. Three days ago she got back from a month in the Mentawis and the coral scars are very twitchy, so she says. They talk about this and it’s all good. She hands over her CV and file. So bulky. Buckets of degrees.

He doesn’t bother opening it, he just checks Surferwatch / Mentawis / etc etc

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Comes up with this.

So it’s thanks for coming, goodbye good luck and here’s your handbag.

Next

The Media Conglomerate. The Marketing Opportunity.

Number (3). Thomas is 10 minutes late for his appointment, plus he hasn’t run a comb through his hair for a little while. As a matter of fact Thomas is looking a little dusty. There is no fear here. There is also no paperwork, Thomas sits barehanded and he answers every question in mono-syllables. He mentions Hawaii. A day at Backdoor. Then a low smile of targeted intent.

– our man goes to his computer.

Surferwatch / Thomas / Backdoor.

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– comes up with this.

So when can you start Mr. Curren, .. and how much would you like us to pay you ..

(TC pic by Tom Servais)

9 Comments Post a comment
  1. davo's liver #

    Check the fine print in the employment contract for two things:

    1) The golden parachute clause or it’s back to bussing tables or some other hairnet and nametag job when they don’t love ya anymore.

    2) The six foot clause. If it’s six foot or bigger hasta mañana (or whenever I get back from Baja).

    ps

    I’ve known Mr. Servais going on 40 years and seen a lot of his work in that time but this one still stands out as the best. If you were to ask him I’m sure he’d remember the “Working is for people that don’t surf” bumper sticker.

    May 10, 2012
  2. Hippy #

    Good luck hiring Curren.

    Well, you could pay him, but he’d never show up.

    May 11, 2012
  3. OK so Thomas get’s the job! What would you do with this lot, and, can you pick the accountant?

    May 11, 2012
  4. Pete, late here and I just noticed a pesky apostrophe in my “get’s” of earlier comment. I know better than that. Most times . . .

    May 11, 2012
  5. – that’s even more to like hip ..

    May 11, 2012
  6. If only…

    May 11, 2012
  7. Yep. That’s the accountant right there, on the SUP.

    May 11, 2012
  8. Ben #

    This scenario is ridiculous…he would be an hour and ten minutes late.

    May 12, 2012
  9. karena1 #

    Looks like I’m never going to get a job. Or a wave.

    May 18, 2012

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