Not So Sharp a Shooter

I had this job interview over at Fort York to be one of those army reenactors.

I did, I did. And as I was going in for the interview I realized just how big an idiot I was. I was wearing my glasses, hardly historically accurate. So I tuck them away in my pocket, I mean yes okay sure I am a little blind without them on. A little blind. I mean I can make out shapes.

So the woman calls me and I sit down, making sure to look straight ahead at the blurry shape asking me questions.

And I’m doing amazing, nailing questions left and right, left and right.

About fifteen minutes into the interview I realize the shape I’ve been staring at is the women’s breasts.

This now explain the five questions in a row she’s fired at me about sexual harassment.

I figure I’ve blown this one. But there’s still the second portion of the interview, where I am led out into the field to follow the woman’s commands to load and fire this reenactment musket.

I consider putting on the glasses, but I decide I don’t want the woman to think I was a pervert and a liar.

I start following the instructions, loading the gun. The woman yells for me to aim, I bring the gun up. The bayonet on the end of the weapon connects with a shape.

I pray it’s not the woman’s breasts.

So I’ve just stabbed a small maple tree, which is a bit of a relief to learn the wet stuff dripping off the gun is just sap.

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