Ironic Interview Thursday

I have two stories to share today as my quest for the elusive job continues...

1) Why Bother Inc: I found out my friend's husband will most likely be unemployed as of January 1st. The contract he works on is being taken over by another company who basically wants nothing to do with the current employees. They want their own people in place. Now mind you the person in question works more hours than I actually think is humanly possible in a year. Now the ironic part...
With one days notice he was told he would have to re-interview for his job, but the interview is really a formality and he should just kiss his ass goodbye. Um, formality or not what the fuck kind of logic is that??

Now for my entertaining interview of the week...
2) Casual Corp vs Amanda: Being a dutiful little networker I got this interview via an old coworker of sorts who ran into my mom. My mom is sort of become like my pimp. She basically hands my resume out like $5 blow jobs.
Anyway I setup an interview for, I'm not kidding, a job with no name. Basically I got an email that said I got your resume from the vice president who got it from so & so, when can you come in for an interview?" It seemed stupid to ask what the job was. I mean since no one bothered to mention specifics I figured it must be so obvious the company doesn't feel the need to elaborate on their positions. However, most jobs do come with descriptions attached. For all I knew I could have been interviewing for executive ass wiper.
So today I head down to the 3rd ward. The 3rd ward is an area of downtown Milwaukee that is best described as funky, in the good way. It's not too pretentious, not too hip, but still urban and modern. With that being said I was still not quite prepared for what I walked into.
In true Amanda fashion there had to be a least 3 minor tragedies in the 10 minutes before my interview so as to make it impossible for me to quell my nerves. I get a parking spot that isn't a million miles away. So far, so good. I have a few minutes so I do one last mirror check. Out of nowhere a pimple has emerged in the middle of my neck. At any other time this would not have been a tragedy, but 5 minutes before an interview for an undetermined job this will cause me to panic. I was convinced it was a sign. Though not overly noticeable, at the time it looked like a goiter or possibly a 5 lb tumor had just erupted on my neck. In a panic I decide I'm going to pop it so the interviewer doesn't think I have some sort of acne problem that would lead him to think I won't be a good employee. I failed to take into account how sensitive female neck skin really is. In my pathetic attempt to make the zit less apparent I manage to break open about a dozen blood vessels and the thing starts bleeding. On the upside it no longer appears I have a neck pimple. Unfortunately I now appear to have a gaping neck wound.
Great.
Now instead of looking like a potential employee with one lone pimple I look like a potential employee who was recently involved in a scuffle with a vampire. I manage to stop the bleeding as best as I can and then make a pathetic attempt to cover it with my hair. Except there really is no hairstyle I know of that involves a hairy neck.
The injury:
I give up on trying to be even remotely suave about my self inflicted injury & prepare to exit my car. I proceeded to inadvertently hit the panic button on my keychain. With a 3 block radius now looking in my direction to see if I am a rape victim, a car thief or just an idiot I fumble to turn off the alarm.
Next I attempt to put a quarter into the parking meter which, of course, leads to me dumping my change on the ground & having to round it all up.
Finally I get my shit together & head into the building. It's a very old style Milwaukee building, not corporate looking at all. I make my way to the back where I have to climb up a million flights of rickety old wood stairs to the second floor. The only signs guiding me to the second floor refer to a yoga studio. I arrive on the second floor to the smell of incense burning in the yoga studio and finally see a postcard size sign next to a door that is the office I'm actually looking for. I walk into what can best be described as a bachelor pad/loft. There is a desk, a leather couch, dim lighting, a lone visitor chair that looks like it was straight out of the Goodwill. The best part is the visitor chair is sitting directly in front of a pool table. On the wall behind the pool table is a nerf basketball hoop. What the fuck twilight zone episode had I walked into?
There is no secretary. If there had been one I'm sure she'd have been playing pool. There is just a guy in jeans who announces my name when I enter. Then his cell phone goes off. He proceeds to answer. The only part of the conversation I catch is the end: "She is here now"
Great.
I am infamous and I haven't even said two words yet.
Believe it or not I think it went well. Thirty minutes of the usual BS and I was out the door. It actually seems like they might have some project/consulting work for me in the near future, but as usual I won't be holding my breath.

Stay tuned for more misadventures in my unemployment saga.