I've been holding back on telling any of the stories that will explain why I think of my Adventures in Numberland memoirs as having the subtitle "Why I don't discuss my personal life in professional settings." It's hard to tell those stories without discussing my personal life. And once I do that, it's hard to turn back. Well, here goes.
In my last year of grad school, my significant other, whom I'll call K, applied for a tenure-track job at Euphoria University, and I applied for a postdoc position there. We did not in any way link our applications. I even went to the trouble of using a different typesetting program from K's for my job applications, with a different font, and gave only my office address and phone number, not my home phone number. (This was back in the day of landlines.)
While K and I were traveling over the winter break, our friend and colleague Catsitter dropped by our apartment to feed the cat.
After we returned from our travels, I tried to get K to return Well's call, but K refused. "He said I shouldn't phone him. He'll phone me."
But Well never phoned back. Every so often I'd say to K, "Please phone him. Maybe it's about a job," but K wouldn't do it.
K and I eventually got rejection letters from Euphoria University.
A year or two later, I ran into Well in the Harvard math department Common Room. He said, "It's too bad you didn't come to Euphoria. The number theory group would have loved to have you."
Perplexed, I told him I didn't know what he meant. "I got a rejection letter from Euphoria. In what capacity should I have come?"
Well said that the number theorists were very interested in making me a postdoc offer. Well had phoned K to see if he was interested in a tenure track offer. "When K didn't phone back, we assumed you weren't interested," Well said.
No one thought to contact me.