I get no kick from champagne; mere alcohol doesn’t thrill me at all

Well, let’s see. . .

Back is more or less functional, and mostly pain-free.  Bending over is still a small challenge.  We’re working on it.

This morning, I went to the local hospital for an interview with the volunteer coordinator.  I dressed in my Very Best Mundane Clothes (as distinct from Sci-Fi Dress-Up, Con Clothes, and the jeans-and-(t)shirts that are my usual day/work wear).  I have no photo, but I wore my Very Best Pair of Jeans, trouser-cut, deep, dark indigo; my favorite Mundane top, which is black jersey with a self-tie; my wheat-colored sports jacket of many pockets; and a pair of black, chunky heeled half-boots.  My hair, recall, is that nice blue-purple that I like.  I thought I looked respectful and professional, though I considered it possible that I might get dinged for the hair, and off I went.

Arrived at the hospital in good time and presented myself at the Information Desk which was today manned by a single volunteer (Abby the Service Dog and her owner were also behind the desk, signing in for their duty shift), who greeted me with great good cheer:  “Good morning, sir — ma’am! — what can I do for you today?”

Seems I still give off the “what gender is this person” vibe.  Or maybe it was the jacket — men’s jacket, you know, because pockets! also?  Fits beautifully through the shoulders.

Anyhow, I gave him my name, and told him I had an appointment with the volunteer coordinator, for which I was slightly early, and he went off to let her know I was arrived.  I got to talk to Abby and her owner, receiving thereby a thorough dose of Vitamin Dog, and then I sat down and read a couple pages of my book before the coordinator came out to fetch me to her office.

The hair passed without comment, but the blue jeans?  Did not.  The hospital has a dress code and blue jeans — even nice blue jeans that have stood before audiences of hundreds — are Right Out.  This was mentioned more than once during the interview, which was pleasant (even the no-jeans prohibition was presented pleasantly), and I have an appointment next week with the HR Nurse, who is expected to cut orders for me to have a hospital-mandated and paid-for blood test, to make sure I’ve been vaccinated for various illnesses, and that I don’t have TB.

If I prove to be alive and healthy enough, then they’ll do the checking of references and a Background Check, to make sure I’m not a serial killer, and!  if I’m not a serial killer, than I can attend the New Volunteers Orientation in January, and start being trained for my duties.

I did ask that I not be put into a clerical position.  Part of the point of this for me is to do something other than sit in a chair and type. There seem to be a variety of tasks that I might be assigned to do, which are not sitting and typing, so — win.

Needing to buy new clothes so I can volunteer may prove to be something of a problem, though I hope not a deal-breaker, given the imminence of after-Potlatch sales.  Because I’m so tall, I can’t just wander into Goodwill and pick up a couple pair of good used khakis, like I can a sports jacket of many pockets.

So, that’s what’s happening here in the vicinity of the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory.  The weekend has writing inked in, which I’ll be getting to, directly after lunch.

What’re you doing this weekend that’s fun?

* * *

Today’s blog post brought to you by Cole Porter, “I Get a Kick Out of You.”  Here’s your link.
If you don’t like that one, here’s another link.

And!  for the Facebook peeps, a picture of Belle sleeping with the manuscript:

Belle sleeps with the manuscript Dec 3 2015


9 thoughts on “I get no kick from champagne; mere alcohol doesn’t thrill me at all”

  1. Wishing you the best of luck with the hunt for non-jeans slacks and the investigation of your past for the desired non-clerical volunteering.

    I hope for the day when the dress codes for people volunteering their time consist of little more than “clean, covers all the necessary body parts, no repugnant slogans” with additional safety requirements when needed (must have steel-toed boots/waders/gloves/hiking boots/hat with chinstrap/safety glasses/ear plugs.) Speaking as another jeans wearer. The prejudice against jeans (esp. clean, dark, boot-cut jeans) is…annoying.

  2. I love that song. It’s my standard shower song. I, uh, may have sung it in public last week in New Orleans, accompanied by a very amused drummer and his tuba-playing friend.

  3. Jeans only belong on the farm! This is from a person that owns NONE and would not be caught in them and if I had to wear them it would be with 4 inch spike heals and “Bling”

    Try New York Company they make tall dress pants that are very nice!

  4. From what I recall of the “ladies” who volunteer in the gift shop of my local hospital, the uniform is pull-on knit pants, preferably a bit baggy in the seat. They of course have no pockets because you can’t carry a cell phone in the hospital. It seems to be where slightly pill-y lavender fortrelle goes to die.
    Does your local wildlife rehab facility or animal shelter need volunteers? Their dress code may be a bit more sympathique.

  5. I suppose no scrub bottoms? You might check as they are cheap, come in tall sizes, and have many pockets.

  6. I never understood dress codes. As long as your clothes are clean and cover appropriately that really is all that should matter. I have been very fortunate I have never worked anywhere that has enforced a dress code on me. They sort of have one where I work. I ignore it, and they ignore me. It works. As a person whose body shape doesnt conform to the required clothing, dressing for comfort is a huge plus, and I see no reason everyone shouldnt do it. Wouldnt we all be more productive if we were comfortable?

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