New Wave Resumay

Clayton McCann
505-555-5505
bwgreview@gmail.com

look. you need Clayton McCann. people are retiring left, right (thankfully) and centre. where can you find help? these ken & barbie infants fresh out of high school? come on! that’s, like, totally, like, you know?

whereas Clayton McCann appears in the doorway: smelling of limes, staring into the sun like Mayakovsky (Russian poet & playwright, died during a heated game of Russian Roulette), bursting with the perfect sort of energy (batteries, charged by celery)

several phrases come into your head when you see him: 1. needs to learn to capitalize the beginning of his sentences. 2. who IS that? 3. where is my Canucks mug?

leadership? you bet! (Q. what does this mean? A. nothing.)

Finally: call now to secure an interview with Clayton McCann–perhaps the last employee YOU’LL EVER NEED!!!*

___________________________________________________________________________
* or not, some restrictions apply. must have meaningful work to qualify.
see Clayton McCann for details. not valid in the U.S. or other fascist regimes. produced by the Committee to Find Clayton McCann a Career 2012.

Career Objectives:
A corner office, definitely. Or a regular office with two windows. Three. Three windows, regular office. Regular, three-window office with desk and chair. One of those plants that never die and a secretary that can take dictation–no, wait, strike that. Did you strike that? Because it looks like it’s still there, in the little text box reserved for “Career Objectives.” All I want in there is the stuff about the office. No, YOU look, Mom. You know I can’t type as fast as you, and I may not know a lot about computers but I–NO, DON’T LEAVE! I’m sorry. I did say it. I’M SORRY. Alright? Alright, let’s get down to–YOU’RE TYPING EVERYTHING I SAY?!! WHA–? WHY WOULD YOU DO SOMETHING LIKE THAT?!! Well, fine, i just won’t say anything…

Work Experience:
Not Sure (Oct 1983 to May 1987)
Sam Spellerman Yorkville Ontario Canada—Spellerman’s was a dry cleaners on Yorkville Ave. in busy downtown Toronto. But they didn’t really do any dry-cleaning. At least not the kind you think of when you hear the words “dry cleaning”. My job was to sit at the cash register and make out “receipts” for “customers” contingent on who was running at Woodbine that afternoon. Also I would hear sob stories from “customers” when they couldn’t drop off the “clothes” and crazy stories from old man Spellerman about Canasta Ike D’anastazio, Max Berlin and the ghosts of Hogtown’s early gangster days. That’s all I did there, I swear.

Grounds Maintenance (Jul 1977 to present day)
my dad Port Hope Ontario Canada—Mostly I listened to my dad go on and on about how the mower needs to be scraped after mowing, about how a shovel is like a paddle/you don’t stick a paddle blade into the sand/why would you stick a shovel blade into gravel like that? that’s a spade, for soil/not for gravel/there’s gravel shovels for that kinda work/you know your sister did a better job with the lawn/too bad she went off to university/’guess we’ll have to make do with a guy who doesn’t know the difference between…
stuff like that.

Vendor (Jul 1974 to Jul 1974)
Self Port Hope Ontario Canada—Worked at my lemonade stand. Manufactured lemonade (water, lemons, sugar). Customer service. Handled cash, etc. Worked unsupervised, self-motivator. Cultivated the cute child look. Sometimes sold cherry kool-aid when lemonade was out of stock (therefore inventive problem-solver).

Training and Personal Development—After years of hearing stories and traveling light, I can spot bullshit a mile away. Also, I was forced to take a first aid course, Occupational First Aid Level 1 as part of a deal I struck with a judge over my brother-in-law’s paternity suit.

Also, I have personally attended three Amway seminars (that i know of), as well as trained to be a Nu-Skin rep. I decided against making the final $5,000 Distributorship investment on account of I couldn’t see moving to Labrador.

Skills:
1. Dedication. I can get behind anything. For a price.
Just like the time Stew & I had to drain
Doc Leacock’s frog pond because the
old lecher dropped his mistress’
bracelet in there and you could spot
it a mile away (and so could his wife).

2. Wit. Q. What do you call an Italian gentleman
with a rubber toe?
A. Roberto!
You see what i mean?

3. Charm. cannot be described–must be seen to be believed.

Interests: A. I enjoy a few martinis as much as the next guy–but strictly over lunch. Nobody who works for me drinks on the job. This is one of my five “golden rules”. The others are work-related.

B. I like burlesque, sure, but mostly because I love jazz. I’m sophisticated that way. Nothing like a sour whiskey, a good cigar and… some jazz… to make… good.

C. I go shooting once and again. I keep a 44-40 under the seat of my Crown Vic. It shoots like, how did Brautigan say it? Like a fat man through a narrow door.

D. I’m an avid reader. I’ve got all the classics: Zane Grey, Franklin W. Dixon, Clive Cussler. I’m really into Pope (Dudley) right now: that Ramage! Now there was a man. Part street hustler, part pirate, part… well, I guess some of what he does is illegal.

References: Myself, Clayton McCann

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