by Dogstar
“Well, Mr. Lama, your resume is impressive: Just two jobs in your career with no gaps in employment. You had a combination sovereign-spiritual leader job, and then a bit of a lesser position as an exiled leader. Normally, we like to see that applicants have moved upward in their careers, yours seems to be downward. Still, it's an impressive record.”
“Yes, Ms. Bonaventura,” said the Dalai Lama, eagerly. “But, really, I consider myself to always have been 'just a humble monk.'”
“You are quite modest, Mr. Lama. You've written twenty-seven books; appeared in six video teaching packages; chaired countless conferences; and you've filled Central Park twice. If it weren't for the bad economy, we might want to start you off as high as assistant store manager.”
His Holiness pressed his hands together and bowed his head.
“But right now, all I have is a lower-level position in the Carmichael store.” The human resources director tapped her pencil against the clipboard she was holding. She looked up into the pleasant face of His Holiness. “You've been a stable employee. And you have a longstanding keen interest in Home Improvement and Interior Lighting. My question, though, is this: Do you know how to work a cash register?”
The Dalai Lama smiled sweetly. “I would try to learn that position quickly,” said the humble monk.
The human resources manager, a prickly woman who favored flamboyant clothes and makeup, thumbed through the papers on her clipboard. “There are some items on your resume that puzzle us. This prize you won in 1989, The Nobel piece something or other. Is that sort of like Employee of the Year?”
“Yes, I think so! That's exactly what that's like!” said the Dalai Lama, beaming.
“Then it's very impressive. Our regional manager will like that … but 1989 is a long time ago. Have you won anything more recently?”
“Well, I have an honorary degrees. And a small award with handlebars, representing the absolute and the relative –“
“Yes, yes, Mr. Lama. A little prize here, a little prize there,” Ms. Bonaventura sighed. “But do you have anything relating to the home-improvement industry that you've won recently? A no-absences certificate? A good-performance plaque? ”
“Sadly, I do not. And with my people suffering under the stern rule of Beijing, I could not accept such awards,” said the Dalai Lama, dejectedly, feeling sorry to have to disappoint his kind interviewer.
“Well, it's all right. Cheer up, Mr. Lama. I was pleased with your letters of recommendation! These are quite nice. Mr. Bush, Mr. Gere and Uma Thurman's father all wrote the most laudatory things about you. And when we called them, they each said you'd be very good with the customer-service aspects of any job.”
“Thank you,” said His Holiness.
“By the way, Did you see Uma's new movie? That girl can really kick ass.”
“I cannot say that I have seen it,” the Dalai Lama responded.
Ms. Bonaventura reached over to touch the Dalai Lama on the knee with the fingers of her right hand. Her fingernails were long and brightly colored. Her wrist was decorated with flashy spangles. “See it, if you get the chance. It's wonderful!”
“I have just a few more questions. Ones I must ask any prospective employee,” said the HR woman. She looked down at her clipboard and then over at the old man seated across from her. “Do you have a prison record?”
“I was almost arrested many times. If I hadn't fled Tibet when I did, I think I would have been imprisoned or killed.”
“Listen, honey,” said the woman, reaching over, again, to pat the knee of His Holiness, “if you were only almost arrested, you shouldn't be telling me about it. The honest truth is the last thing any HR director expects to hear -- or wants to hear, for that matter. Now, I'll have to write down what you said. Pity, pity.”
The woman forced a smile at the Dalai Lama. Her teeth were straight and white. “So, I guess we have to say you were fired from your first job.”
“Could we just say 'Laid off due to takeover'?” asked his Holiness, meekly.
“Well, honey, if the HR in Beijing returns the form we will be sending them without disputing that as the reason, who am I to say anything? Now as for your most recent job, exiled leader, what are the circumstances there for your severance.”
“Well,” said the Dalai Lama, “I've been thinking about my beliefs, studying physics, thinking about the meaning of life and death. And though I have spent my life as a Tibetan Buddhist, I have always admired the Ch'an Masters. I bought a copy of The Transmission of the Lamp, reading it late at night with a flashlight. It was beautiful. I wept with delight! I decided I was wrong to have been telling people to stay with the religion they were born into! People should explore! They should seek truth! They shouldn't stay with something that doesn't touch their heart. They should float to the light. I found that the Ch'an master speak to me! It is like music! Ms. Bonaventura, I had to follow my heart! Followed the bright star that beckoned me! I am a Zennist!” His Holiness stood up. “I am a Zennist! I say it with glee! My heart is dancing!”
“Okie dokie,” said Ms. Benaventura. “I'll just write in 'Position was terminated, amicably.”
The Dalai Lama sat down. “But now I am sad. I love the people of Tibet. There cannot be any more wonderful people on this small blue planet. I love them with all my being, and I fear that any glimmer of hope that I could ever see the wondrous vista of my homeland is now dashed, gone, extinguished. Our effort to free Tibet has been frustrating. I want to do good in the world, but all my life I have been just a monk.”
“Lambchop, don't be blue. In a couple of years you can transfer from the Carmichael store to the Home Depot in Llasa! American foreign policy has always been directed toward trade. You buy our wheat; we import your yak butter. We sell you plumbing equipment; you assemble our toaster ovens. The very, very best way for you to get into Tibet is by working for us! Listen, let me explain it all to you. Even working overseas, you still get deposits into the pension plan. Now there are problems with the 401K and your health benefit ….
[Epilogue: The Dalai Lama and Ms. Bonaventura talked for a good half-hour longer. A month later, His Holiness was working in the Carmichael store, operating the cash register like a seasoned pro. He won several awards for 'no absences' and for always having his till in balance at the end of the workday. Three years later, he transferred to the store in Llasa. Shortly after that, the government in Beijing fell; China became a democracy, patterning its new constitution after the one in Sweden; and Tibet was granted its independence. And who did the people of the newly formed Republic of Tibet elect as their first Prime Minister? None other than a gentle old man, a Zennist cashier who worked in the Home Depot in Llasa. At the inaugural celebration, white scarves filled the air. The Dalai Lama was happy. He was Home.]
| See the listing of Dogstar's essays on our ZU Columns webpage. | Read about Dogstar on the ZU Columnists' Biographies webpage. |