Fired for a Day
The ultimate career opportunity
By JOHN CROCKETT

Brian took his usual post in front of the partially open sliding glass doors. The transparent barriers were all that stood between a hundred fiendish powder skiers and the Funitel that would take them to their goal: an upper mountain swathed in four feet of fresh.

Brian wondered why the snow gods had forsaken him. Why was he stuck checking tickets today instead of joining the foaming-at-the-mouth mob before him? Had he done something to upset them? There was the turnstile incident with the ponytailed twins, but he was sure it wasn't his doing. And the Germans who were red carded for slide tackling through the lift line—didn't they deserve what they got?

The call came down to begin loading, and Brian slid the doors open wide. The crowd rushed forward, setting unstoppable forces in motion. Brian quickly realized the futility of checking tickets and so, hands thrust in pockets out of jealousy and frustration, he stepped aside to avoid being trampled. His thoughts drifted beyond the chaos to the quiet powder up above. But an approaching angry face jerked him back to reality.

"HEY!" the man screamed, veins bulging, mustache bristling. "How can you check tickets with your hands in your pockets?!" It took a moment for Brian to recognize that it was Don, his boss' boss, head of mountain operations. Brian pulled his hands out of his pockets and held them open to the charging crowd as if to say Are you serious? You check 'em.

"That's it," blasted Don, "you're done. Get out of here." Some in the crowd overheard Don's tirade and began to heckle him. He motioned for a nearby security guard for protection. Another guard approached Brian with a scowl on his face.

Brian turned and walked away, shaking his head in disgust. Of all the unlucky days to be "supervised." He stopped by the tiny office to grab his backpack. It was warm inside so he unzipped his jacket and his hand brushed against a nylon string hanging from his neck. Then it hit him: they didn't take his pass.

After leaving a message for his supervisor relating his side of the story, Brian sprinted for the employee locker room, dressed in seconds, and soon was riding the lift. He didn't know how long his pass would remain valid, or if Don would send his henchmen on the hill for him, but suddenly the day wasn't looking so bad.

After gorging on fresh powder for hours, Brian noticed a missed call on his cell phone. It was his supervisor. He had talked to Don and vouched for Brian as a valuable member of the Squaw Valley team who consistently showed up to work on time, a unique characteristic for a resort employee. Brian had his job back.

At first the snow gods dangled the deepest powder day of the year in front of him like candy, so close yet so far. Instead they smiled on Brian and granted him a double dose of sweetness: four feet of confection and the thing we all wish to happen every so often: to be fired for a day.


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