Still not getting how this blogger things works, but here is a story:

     Sophie sat quietly as she waited for her interview to get started.  She was carefully dressed in casual pants and a crisp shirt.  Nothing extraordinary, yet she looked professional.  The interviewer, whose name was Hank, had told her he'd be with her in a moment; he had to finish up with a phone call.  She looked around his office.  Plaques on the wall, service awards and an award for a year without injuries in the workplace.  There was a photo of Hank holding up a swordfish, probably taken in Florida.  Of Hank with his wife and small kids.  It looked old.  Finally, Hank finished up his call and reached across the desk to shake her petite hand with a sturdy grip.  "Hi!  Nice to meet you, Sophie!  Can you tell me a little bit about yourself?"
     She cleared her throat.  "I moved here three years ago from up north, so I am still getting to know this area.  I currently work with adults with mental handicaps, but I saw your advertisement for the job opening and thought I'd apply."
     Hank smiled.  "Sure, sure.  First, do you know who we are and what we do?"  A question meant to weed out job applicants who didn't do their homework.
     Sophie, who was already sitting up straight, relaxed.  "From my understanding, this company manufactures parts for the automotive industry.  Telcon is a satellite supplier of materials used in the manufacture of the vehicles at the local Stellix plant.  But," here she chuckled uncomfortably, "I couldn't tell you exactly what kinds of parts they are.  I believe car seats are upholstered here."
     "Right you are.  Exactly right.  But the job you applied for-," here he paused, "are you familiar with the job duties?"
     Sophie smiled, feeling confident now.  "Yes.  To manage the Auto team, keep them up and running.  Diagnostics.  Send them in for repairs if need be."
     "I'm not certain I see any experience here with those kinds of things.  Tell me, why do you think you can do this job?"  He looked at her inquisitively.
     She nodded.  "Yes, I realize I don't have any official work experience with Autos.  However, I grew up with them.  I worked on a farm, used to fix them myself."  She paused, then said with certainty:  "I'm good with machines."
     Hank nodded.  "Okay, let me show you around.  Let you get a feel for the place.  Mind you, we have a mix of Autos and regular personnel."  He gave her a hard hat to wear, then led her though two sets of double doors.  The noise in the plant was almost deafening.  "Stay within the yellow lines.  Those are the rules!"  He shouted.  The fork lifts drove back and forth outside the yellow lines, so she carefully followed him.  He showed her lines where both people and Autos worked together to upholster vehicle seats, and other lines that were just run by people.  "That's because Autos don't make free choices quickly enough, and it makes it unsafe for their co-workers.  So those lines are all people.  For example, imagine a person and an Auto are carrying a very heavy object together.  If it slips from the human's grip, the Auto may try to catch it instead of letting it fall.  By trying to catch it, the Auto may unwittingly tilt it toward the human, and crush the human."  They passed by a line run by all Autos.  "That's the line you'd be managing if you got the job.  Say hello to Bernie!"  He tapped an Auto on the shoulder, and the Auto paused, then stood up straight, swiveling his gaze to meet hers. 
     "Hi Bernie."  She smiled quietly at him.  "Hello, Miss."  Bernie stood still.  She looked at Hank.  "May I touch him?"  Hank nodded toward Bernie.  She addressed him.  "Bernie, extend your arms outward, palms up."  Bernie did as she asked.  "Diagnostics on phalanges and metacarpals, both hands."
     Bernie's eyes stared off into space.  "Metacarpal on 4, left hand, in need of replacement.  Peripheral metacarpals, right hand, worn with hairline fractures."
     Sophie thanked him.  "Thank you Bernie, it was nice to meet you."  Bernie turned toward Hank, who excused him.  She smiled fondly as she walked down the line of Autos.  Such simple creatures, they did what they were asked.  They acted like they liked you.  They were like having pets, except without the mess.
     Back in the office, Hank looked at her appraisingly.  "So, what do you think about working here?  I think you would be able to handle working with the Autos.  But what about the people?  Some of them hate the Autos, try to dismantle them."  He shook his head.  "We try to catch those guys and fire them.  But you know how it is.  People accuse them of stealing their jobs.  You would be working around a lot of guys.  How would you feel about that?"
     "Frankly, I get along with most guys.  I find it harder to work with women because there's a lot of gossip and back biting.  Now, that's just my personal take on things.  But I really enjoy working with Autos, and I really want this job."  Hank thanked her and she left, feeling worried but also hopeful.

Wine Pork Chops

Okay, so I decided to fry pork chops in wine tonight.  Used Yellowtail.  The pork chops are very tender, but no fragrant taste as is usual with the way other wines cook the chops.  So, no more Yellowtail!

Today's insult

My co-worker made a Mexican joke the last week when I said my daughter was a good swimmer, and he said something about the Rio Grande and how she'd be fast at getting across it. Since I get along with him, and it was meant light-heartedly (he insults everyone, he isn't racist against any one group), I laughed along with it. He went home, and told his wife, and he said she laughed about it but said, "Stoney, that ISN'T right! You could get into trouble doing that!!" I got sick, and was off the rest of the week with a respiratory infection. I come back Monday, and he said, "I didn't offend you with that joke about the river and your daughter, did I?" I honestly didn't remember. But then I told him I wasn't bothered, I can tell the difference between a joke for laughs and a mean joke. So it dropped.

Today, we were discussing another guy we work with (let's call him Al), and how he has a tendency to tell big lies. This guy once bragged he has a time share in Florida and he only has to pay a hundred dollars a month, and he can stay there for as long as he wants, if he wanted to stay there a year he could. I asked him, "Well, why are you paying 400 for rent up here when you cold live right on the beach and get a job down there?" The guy had to do a verbal backpedal and try to make an excuse why he couldn't, but you get the picture.

And then the topic moved onto coyotes actually coming into Carmel, IL, eating up the stray dogs and cats. And I said, "My sister says coyotes run in Detroit too!" And then Stoney said, "Okay, Al". They laughed. And then Stoney said, "Please hand me a paper clip so I don't have to walk around the desk for it." I said, "I dunno, you called me Al. Them's fightin' words." He replied, "I gotta tell my wife this. You don't get mad at a Mexican joke, but don't liked being called Al! Wow!"