“Please, call me ‘Ian.'”

“Yes, er, Ian. I’ll be blunt. According to your resume, you have no experience as a personal assistant, yet my boss, that is, the man you would be working for, thinks you will be perfect for the position. Now, according to your job history, you were a… a… roddie?”

“Uh, that’s a typo, it should have read, roadie.”

“I’ve heard a lot about roadies, Mr. MacTavish.”


“‘Ian.’ Did you work for a lot of big stars?”

“Indeed I did, including Little Feat and Pablo Cruise.”

“What did you like best about being a roadie?”

“I think it was all the friends I made over the years.”

“You’ve met a lot of people?”

“Oh, yes. There was Lola on the Nazareth tour. The triplets, Peaches, Bubbles and Trixie, on The Offspring tour. Of course, there was that incident when the Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders met Ratt.”

“I read about that in the papers.”

“That was a tough job. Hotel detectives can be very difficult. And those police dogs were just downright unforgiving.”

“Mr. MacTavish, I get the impression that your years as a roadie were spent procuring women for bands, sneaking ladies past the wives of lead singers and inviting women of questionable reputations to backstage parties thrown by Pantera and Kid Rock.”

“Ah, yes, the good old days.”

“As I mentioned before, Mr. MacTavish, I don’t really feel that you’re the right man for the personal assistant job, but my boss insists that I give you a shot. In fact, when he heard that a roadie was interested in the position, he demanded that I hire you.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t let you down. However, I am a wee bit curious. You’ve been very formal in this interview, ‘Mr. MacTavish’ this, and ‘Mr. MacTavish’ that. Just how am I supposed to address my new employer?”

“On formal occasions address him as ‘sir.’ When it’s just the two of you, you may call him ‘Bill.'”

“And how should I address his wife?”

“Just call her what your boss calls her.”

“And that is?”