The Unhireable Man

i made it to my interview looking like a thirteen year-old school kid, and feeling like a particularly moldy glop of stew. this was courtesy of both a haircut and a hangover. i don't usually get haircuts or hangovers and i'm still not sure which was worse.

the very first person to ask me a question outside of my house that morning was the same person who had called me in for the interview. he was not the one who would be interviewing me, but he was holding my resume when he greeted me with this question:

"you worked for concierge extraordinaire, didn't you?"

"haha, yeah. i did," i laughed.

i'm not sure what about that was funny, or why i laughed. but the fact i did meant i had no idea what his next sentence was going to be.

it was this:

"they're one of our major clients."

oh, we are not off to a very good start.

"we called the receptionist to hear the scoop on you, but she hasn't called back."

i suppose i had this one coming.

one of the best parts about writing a blog instead of telling a story in person is that i don't have to pause for all of the "you shouldn't have left on a bad note" and "you deserve this" comments. they would be happening right now. they're happening in your head-- i know. instead, i can finish my story and they might just show up in the comments section-- but usually people deem it not worth mentioning when they find out there is some form of logging in required to comment.

the job is a print shop and i figured it'd be a good way to make some money while gaining access to very powerful machines so i can sell my artwork as prints. i hadn't put together that their financial district location meant the majority of their clientele were corporate and not artistic, else i would've probably expected the concierge topic.

the interview seemed to go well, but my hungover brain continuously debated stopping the conversation to admit i had dressed in a fred astaire costume and gone to work to tell my boss off in attempts to be fired. you know, sort of like confessing something before being caught. but that's a hard one to swing.

instead, when the time came to discuss reasons for leaving previous jobs, i let them know i had a 2-11pm shift and that friday was my monday and tuesday was my friday. the schedule made healing during a rough part of my life nearly impossible and i had to leave.

that all is technically true.

after the first interview, i was sent to a second location for a second interview. and then i was asked to come in for a two-hour shift-- though technically it's called a "two-hour interview" because otherwise they'd have to pay me. but the idea is to see how well i mesh with the company.

that mini-shift was 10-12pm today, so maybe i'll be able to get the job before the concierge team informs them of my slightly... theatrical employment exits.

wish me luck. or at least wish me a really great chaotic story.

hey, oh, it's the unhireable man. getting fired as fast as he can.
whoa, whee, he's got no plan. oh look, it's the unhireable man.

i'll grow up one day.