Egad, THAT was weird. This dude named George who lives in my building just rang and knocked and rang again and finally roused me from my nap. I went to the door, and in very broken English he asked me if I worked at Yale. I said yeah, and he said he had applied to work on the groundskeeping crew or somesing, and he wondered if I could help him. I said, well, I don't know what I could really do--I work at the press and don't even hire people where I work, much less anywhere else, but if he really wanted to he could put me down for a reference. The only contact I've had with him is when he helped me move some furniture more than four years ago, but you know, whatever . . . So he's like, "Yeah, I put in the application online, and it give me the paper . . . here, I'll show you . . ." And he goes upstairs and gets a printout of a confirmation page that says they'll keep his information on file, blah blah blah . . . And finally he says, "When I put in the website, I see your picture . . ."
OHHHHHHH. Now I get it. Sorry, but I don't work in HR. I was just taking a typing test that day, and they snapped my picture, dude.