Turn It On

And so on...

I've got acute and chronic tastes. Some, like my love for short hair, are incurable, while others I seem to shake off after a good night's sleep. In the world where women are concerned, my tastes are wildcards. My sexual barometer is more tumultuous than the government of a developing nation. Its subject to upheavals, insurrections, coups, and voter indifference.  From the redhead with a body like a stick of gum who served as assistant teacher for my eighth grade history class, to the voluptuous curves of my blonde albatross, there's no telling what will turn me on.

What's worse is that my tastes seem to shift like sine waves. As if in an idiotic search for equilibrium, I shift back and forth between two poles. If I've been on a blonde kick for awhile, brunettes suddenly start popping out of the background. If I'm enamored for a time by athletic and trim girls, I find myself pining for curvy, soft women. After a while with the chubby brunette ideal, I'm back to blonde athletes. It's an absurd game of The Grass Is Always Greener that repeats ad infinitum. I'm a repeat offender.
   

My love for short hair is tumultuous and unstable. It is not an enduring (i.e. permanent) feature of a woman. If I were into girls with green eyes, any green-eyed girl pretty much has my number. Hair, on the other hand, is fragile. One bad set of bangs can spoil the whole lot.  Given my unreliable and volatile tastes, I've been forced into a corner. 

This does not sit well with me. If my tastes are subject to such caprice now, what's to say they won't continue shifting forever? What if I'm with my future wife and I wake up and find myself totally unstirred? What if she gets a haircut that I hate and I cease to be attracted to her physically? What am I supposed to do? A bad haircut is not legitimate grounds for divorce.

I'm going to have to bite the bullet and fire my turn-ons. It's been a pleasure working with them, but there's no place for them in the company's big picture. As I cannot commit to any standard of physical beauty, and beautiful short hair is the servant of another master, my future relationships will have to be forged from new steel, something with mettle.

We at the Company of Nick are restructuring our hiring process. Interviews will no longer include a headshot and resume. Just an interview. The applicant who contributes to the richest conversation during the interview gets the job. This isn't a definitive position based on some Quixotic idealism; rather, it is an admission that the previous system was a failure. Even if this system fails, it will fail in new ways.

We look forward to a long and productive partnership and to welcoming you aboard.