from the "Strange Job Interviews" file

I was reading something last night when a name leapt out at me – Edward Budd – a name I’d only heard once before in my life. Suddenly I was transported back to the olden days when I was young, barely out of my teens. So full of verve I was back then that I went to school and held down a couple of jobs and was always looking around for more.

One day while sniffing around the local employment centre (called Manpower in those days), I saw a posting for a writer’s assistant…local author wants help typing/cleaning up manuscripts..something like that. Perfect! Right up my ally. I grabbed the notice (this was when everything was on little paper cards, not on computers – yes, I’m that old).

The nice Manpower lady gave me the particulars for the job and I called and was able to get an appointment for the very next day. Meanwhile, being the clever girl I was, I went to one of my profs who was very active in the local writers’ community and asked him if he’d ever heard of this writer – Edward Budd. Yes, he said, he had. He’s not a very good writer, I was told, but has self-published a couple of small books on local history.

The prof warned me only to make sure I get a fair pay arrangement, not some share-of-royalties deal.

Off I went to the pretty upscale town where Edward Budd lived. The house was huge and gorgeous with well-kept grounds and a shiny new car in the driveway. My spirits lifted. A woman answered the door who informed me she was the housekeeper when I mistook her for Mrs. Edward Budd. Cool, I thought. (Or maybe it was “groovy” I can’t remember)

She showed me to a lavish library straight out of Agatha Christie with walls of books, leather armchairs and a big wooden desk. Edward Budd was an older gentleman, perhaps in his 60s, dressed in a jacket and tie. He was well-spoken with the remnants of an English accent. I couldn’t believe my luck and kept my fingers crossed that I would be able to land this job.

We chatted for a bit about his previous work, how he was now retired from his engineering job and wanted to devote more time to writing. He just needed someone a couple days a week to re-type his manuscripts for him. Excellent, I thought.

What he wanted to write about, he went on to say, was the essential differences between men and women. Men, he felt were innate masochists while women were sadists. Uh-oh, I thought.

What he’d like to do, he said, was have me spend some time spanking and whipping him so that we could explore the reality of our baser natures, thereby making his book more real. “Is that the time?” I said pointedly indicating my watch. “Must dash.” (Okay, I probably didn’t say “must dash”, but I got myself out of there really quickly.)

The next day he showed up at my house with a big cardboard grocery store box. He apologized for scaring me and wondered if perhaps I wouldn’t reconsider. He told me we could start out fully dressed if that made me more comfortable and that, indeed, I never had to get undressed at all. He offered me quite a large hourly salary to be his writer’s assistant. Then he gave me the box and told me to have a look at the stuff and think about it and he’d call me in a few days.

The box, as you’ve no doubt guessed, contained a number of flogging and flailing instruments, some shackles, a collection of rubber and latex things, a badly typed manuscript by Edward Budd called Hitler’s Mistresses and a paperback novel entitled, Harriet Marwood, Governess.

I didn’t touch the toys, but I couldn’t resist the written material. The Hitler’s Mistresses thing was awful – barely readable. I could see why he’s need a typist. It was also totally crazy. The novel, on the other hand, was quite interesting.

As promised Edward Budd called me a day or two later. I told him to pick up his stuff. He upped the salary.

He called every day and kept raising the amount of money he was willing to give me. It was almost irresistible and, really it’s funny how quickly the stuff he talked about started to sound not so outrageous. Goes to show how quickly we human beings are able to normalize things. Anwway, I kept saying no thank you and would you please stop calling me. (this was in the frontier days before call display and before most people had answering machines).

After a few days of this I happen to be speaking with an older woman friend of mine, Gail, and told her all about my job interview. She reeled back in horror and told me she was good friends with Mrs. Edward Budd and that Mr. Edward Budd had a history of mental illness (no shit) and that as far as his wife knew he hadn’t left his house for nearly ten years.

Gail insisted we had to call Mrs. Edward Budd right away and tell her about this. She did. Mrs. Edward Budd arranged to meet with me that very evening at Gail’s house.

Mrs. Edward Budd wasn’t very nice. She charged in all pissed off, didn’t believe me at first. Talk to your housekeeper, I said. Talk to Manpower, I said. Come and get your husband’s box of crap, I said. Then she blamed me for everything. Gail told her she was being unreasonable. We didn’t part on good terms.

A week later, a man claiming to be Edward Budd, Junior. came to collect his dad’s box of goodies. He didn’t seem to be very friendly either.

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19 responses to “from the "Strange Job Interviews" file

  1. Great post, but I can’t help but think it would have been even better if you’d taken the job!

  2. I can’t believe that happened to you! My wacky retail jobs sound so boring in comparison…

  3. That’s just bizarre – and hilarious – but as Zoom said, it would have been even funnier if you had taken the job.

  4. Zoom & Jazz – Damn. If only I’d known what great blogging fodder such a job would have been at the time when the idea of a home computer was still considered sci-fi. I did give it some serious consideration though. The money was damn good and I didn’t even have to get naked.

    Andrea – Your retail job was whacky AND sexy. Mine almost job was just whacky with a capital WHACK.

    Alison – I think it was the strangest job I’ve ever been offered.

  5. My gosh! What did Manpower have to say about this, um, job offer?

    Obviously Mr. Budd’s wife had no idea what was going on. Perhaps it was a little dance they were doing with each other.

    I have had some interesting jobs offers, but nothing like ths!

  6. (speechless)

    (Then I quickly forward the link to a friend named Budd, after his mother’s maiden name. Hey – he’s into family trees and all)

  7. Josie – I actually hadn’t thought about this in decades, but that name just reminded me…can’t imagine how I could have forgotten such a thing.

    Becky – Uh-oh. I hope he’s not related.

  8. What was it you were reading last night where you saw the name again? The patient roll from the
    Ottawa Hospital Psych Dept.?

  9. Absolutely Hilarious!

    I must wonder if anyone ever took the job or if his work ever got published?

    I also might suspect that Jr could have even been the next job applicant rather than his real son. HA! Great read!

  10. That’s CRAZY!! I’m also curious as to what you were reading that contained his name… 🙂

  11. That is funny!

    I was wondering the same thing as the Casual Perfectionist. Where did you see that name recently?

  12. JB, CP & Heidi Lou – Oddly enough, I was reading a book about Albert Fish, a notorious killer, psychopath and all around nutbar back in the 1920s/30s. One of the kids he kidnapped, killed and ate was named Gracie Budd and her brother was called Edward. Edward had been the original target, but he seemed to sinewy or something so he chose sweet young Gracie instead.

    ruhh – I think his career was over. The man has suffered various mental health issues over the years and the family had thought he’d been reasonably stable for the past 10. The fact that he’d even been out of the house was reason enough for them to worry, but that he was doing this crazy stuff AND that the housekeeper had been aiding and abetting caused quite an uproar apparantly. I did get a few updates now and again from my friend, Gail. I seem to rememberthink they changed meds, fired the housekeeper, & kept a closer eye on him at least

  13. MY god that is just crazy. I’m surprised you survived it in good mental health yourself. You mean your phone had no call display? Next you’ll be telling us it was wired to the wall or something.

  14. Bandobras – Thank you for suggesting I’m in good mental health.

    OTC- Yes, I understand it’s a very lucrative field

  15. Pingback: Freaky Nutbars « XUP

  16. wow is right. I can’t believe those people were so rude, just because you told them their husband/father was a freaky nutbar!