I’m just sitting here eating Keebler’s Chocolate Dunkin’ cookies for breakfast. Isn’t it cool being an adult, since you can do whatever the damn hell you want. Like:
- Eating Keebler’s Chocolate Dunkin’ Cookies for breakfast– Check!
- Sleeping til noon for no good reason. — Check!
- Writing back to some 66 year old fart on Plentyofishies who looks like Jabba the Hut (i.e., 450 pounds, no neck and a pencil thin mustache like a sleazy used car salesman) and is still married but looking for a little action with a hot 49 year old (that’s me, by the way) and me telling him: (A)Dude, you’re still married (B) You’re about 15 years too old for me and then the one I really wanted to write (C) And freakin’ hell, you look like a giant toad with no neck and what’s up with that skinny mustache and no I would never date anyone who smokes and drinks and goes hunting and votes Republican and is even still married, so buzz off. — Check!
Naturally I didn’t say that part. I was just thinking it. And he wrote me back almost immediately (his wife must have been off working at Dunkin’ Donuts). At first I was afraid to open it because I thought he’d be pissed that I said (albeit politely) that he was too old and still married. Instead he said, “Oh baby, you don’t know what your(sic) missing. Your loss. Good luck, you’ll need it.”
WTF? I mean WTF, I could have just not answered his damn letter, right? But I think his reply was mostly just skeevy. You know, maybe his Viagra pill was interacting with his heart medication and asthma puffer or something.
Anyways, other than that its been a very upsy/downsy week. My @rt ment0ring program got rejected as I knew it would. Forget that art is very healing for people with mental illness. God forbid, anybody should be proactive and try something new. Or really…was it just me. Be honest now! Oh, I mean for a change. 🙂
Anyways, I did have a job interview on Thursday for a P/T minimum wage job. I kinda wonder about job interviews these days though. They sure don’t seem like the old days.. you know, where you sat in an office one-on-one with a person and had a personal conversation and they asked you questions and you answered them and you hopefully developed some kind of repoire with them and then you were able to build yourself up by saying how great you were and then the interviewer would say, “So, tell me why I should hire you?” or “Where do you think you’ll be in 5 years?” Sure all those questions would certainly strike terror in your heart, but at least you had a shot at selling yourself.
Nowadays, you just fill out those lengthy applications online with questions like “If you saw another employee stealing would you a) tell on them b) look away c) ask them to steal something for you too.
I’ve taken several of them now, and since I know I’m a nice person and reliable and a good employee (even though I write an EVIL BLOG ONLINE) , I always do very well on the online applications.
But the job interviews from these lengthy applications are somewhat disconcerting. How do I know? Because I’ve now had one at Target last summer, the yuppie grocery store, a large health food/New age store. And then the one with Nervous Steve on Thursday.
There had been a somewhat unfortunate incident a couple of days before the interview. I had gone in to have some photos of my artwork printed for the woman who won’t see me about her upcoming art show (yay me!). And while I was there, clicking around on the self serve photo lab device, I heard the clerk and Nervous Steve having quite a nasty and contentious argument behind the counter…in front of me…the customer. I was originally going to ask to see the manager about my application, but after seeing the bitchy clerk sniping at Nervous Steve and him being somewhat ineffectual and barely deflecting her nasty barbs, I decided I didn’t think I wanted to work there, since I really hate any forms of stress, especially in the form of snarky hateful unhealthy passive aggressive, homicidal co-dependent work relationships.
Not that I know anything about them or anything.
So naturally when the phone rang Tuesday, asking me to come in and interview for a job there, I immediately squealed “Yes! I would love to!!!”
Yet as I sit here this early afternoon, eating far too many Keebler Chocolate Dunkin’ Cookies (like the whole bag, I’m afraid), I’m still not sure if I even had a job interview. Did I? I mean, I went into Nervous Steve’s messy little cubical. He got out my multiple page (like 29 pages?) application from the Internet, just kind of glanced at it slightly and said, “Well, do you have any questions?”
I wasn’t quite ready for that question at the beginning of the interview. Shouldn’t he at least ask me why I would love to work at *******Pharmacy? I mean is it the ambiance? The superior customer service? The dreamy day manager? The fact that they sell Peeps at Easter in large quantities?
I did tell him I was a good employee and had an interest in photography, since the job is as a photo technician. And that’s no lie. I take lots of photos. You can ask my buddies at Flickr.com. But then I kinda sat there going “drrrrr” again. He then told me several fascinating facts like that their photography sector is a big money maker in the store. And that their job applicants are rated by colors. I guess if you’re like chartreuse you more likely steal dark chocolate or something. He didn’t really elaborate.
Anyways, before I knew it the interview was over, like in about 6 minutes. And then he said the funniest thing. He said “You should know by September 1st whether you’re hired or not, so you won’t feel “blown off”. Ha ha ha! Me blown off? What a funny choice of words. Especially since my Blown Off Record has been abnormally high lately.
And I just wanted to do a brief Shout Out to the Village Guy, who was so busy with his career and kids and quoting Eros that he had to depart our “relationship” but who has miraculously reappeared on Plentyofishies this weekend. Hey VG, thumbs up there, buddy! Glad you got those feisty kids under control. Wink, wink.
Am I hormonal today? Possibly.
So anyways, now I’m sitting here foolishly eating vast quantities of cookies and anxiously awaiting a call to tell me I’m hired. Ha! Like I’m so not. And what’s funny is that I had filled out a volunteer application at our local museum and they called Friday and wanted me to come in. And I said I’d have to call them back since I was waiting to hear about a job. I also had already talked to a girl over at the YMCA about volunteering there too in their art department and yet, here I am sitting foolishly waiting for N.S. to call me a minimum wage job at a pharmacy.
So should I wait? I have no idea. I am in desperate need of money. I just got a letter from Food Stamps and they said they’re cutting me off completely September 1st because I supposedly didn’t complete some paperwork back in June. But I did. I even brought it back to them in person for fuck sakes. Anyways the museum and YMCA things are both volunteer gigs. They would both be great experiences for me. They both involve art. But neither pay. Kinda the story of my life. We like you, but only if you’re free.
Did I mention I want to be an artist when I grow up?