Vello Vikerkaar for Baltic Reports In Estonia, the best man for the job is a woman.
If you want to hire someone who’ll show up on time, take pride in his work, solve problems before they arise, then don’t hire him. Hire her.
The average young Estonian man has the grooming habits of a zombie. He appears mornings in the office having slept in his clothes. What was once a Caesar haircut has hardened to a protective crust. Dandruff carpets the shoulders of the dark suit he’s never bothered to dry clean. His once-black shoes are gray and caked with debris from last night’s party to celebrate the invention of the Zippo lighter.
Fashion-wise, he eschews a tie. Perhaps he sees himself as more the bank robber than the bank employee. Or perhaps he plans to join a British pop band. More likely, since he won’t change clothes for the next 72 hours, he must be suitably attired for all activity. Milk the cow in the morning; go to work; go clubbing. He’s a bit overdressed for the cow and a bit underdressed for the office, but neither party voices concern.
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