The Slave Trade

I have come to the conclusion that recruiters are the slave traders of the job market. They parade you around to companies saying things like 'Doesn't she look cute in her unemployment shackles?' & 'She is stronger than she looks'. Once one of those suckers sinks their teeth into your resume you become inconsequential. You are nothing but a commission. You are in fact property to be sold off to the highest bidder, or any bidder for that matter. They might as well stick you on a street corner with your resume stapled to your chest along with a strategically placed business card so the employer that finds you knows who to pay.

Much like my interviews my dealings with recruiters are just as disastrous, possibly worse....

1) The Nazi: The Nazi actually seemed like a good guy. I had gotten his name from someone I networked through. However, before I even got to call him he found my resume on Monster & called me. I met with him and he seemed to have some worthwhile interviews for me. Now he is my chronic stalker & completely uninterested in what I want. Do we all remember Schiavo Inc? I am not kidding you...He sent me back there! Let me recap our 2 conversations about this particular position:
Nazi: Amanda, I have an opportunity for you out at Schiavo Inc!
Me: I recently interviewed out there & they took a pass (Like I'm a lousy side dish at thanksgiving dinner)
Nazi: Oh. Well I am really in tight with the people out there. I think I can work around that. I mean having me on your side is better than going in alone.
Me: (Of course you think that you commission monger) I went in with a recruiter last time too. I just don't know. What is the position?
Nazi: Well, it is a help desk job!
Me: The last time I was out there was for a deskside job that paid really well. I don't think I want to be on a help desk. I'd be bored & can make more money doing deskside support.
Nazi: So you want me to go ahead & submit you?
Me: I really don't think it is worth it for me to go back out there.
Nazi: Ok, great! I will get an interview set up for next week!

After we hung up I clearly felt like I had been speaking another language. The language of NO! He was uninterested in my feelings on the matter. I wasn't too worried though. I mean who reinterviews someone they didn't like a month ago? Apparently Schiavo Inc....

Nazi: Amanda, good news I have an interview for you out at Schiavo Inc!
Me: Oh, umm, ok. Really?
Nazi: Well apparently the woman who interviews for this position was gone the last time you went in. She really liked your resume & wants to talk to you. Except she was concerned about you taking a help desk job.
Me: Well, I'm not thrilled about it. What is the pay? I mean it can't be as good as the last offer I got from them.
Nazi: I'm not sure.
Me: Well, if I was going to do help desk it would have to be good money.
Nazi: I can't pull up my ACT contact notes right now, but I swear I told you it was a help desk job.
Me: You did & I said it was less than desirable.
Nazi: Less desirable? But I told you all about the position & you seemed ok with that.What is your availability next week?
Me: (yep I was speaking a different language) Umm, can you find out how much the pay is?
Nazi: So anytime on Tuesday?
Me: Sure, just email me the details.

Yes, much to my chagrin I went back out to Schiavo Inc today. I am so pathetic. I blame the holidays for my desperation. Even though the Nazi is sure I'd be a great fit at Schiavo Inc I still don't like it out there. I get bored during the interviews. What does that tell you?
I just can't get over the stupidity of my conversations with this man.

2) The Moron: Ok, if this guy has ever placed a person it is a miracle. Another hit from Monster sends me to "We don't have a clue" recruiters. I go into an small room that is about a million degrees. The moron had 2 positions in mind for me. After I heard the minute by minute history of the recruiting company we got down to business. One position we ruled out quickly as it was phone support (maybe he should call the Nazi & explain that to him). The other position he couldn't explain to me at all because it had just come in. To remedy his confusion he drags in their sales guy. Sales guy appeared to have had speed for lunch. In the middle of his talking a mile a minute I feel a migraine coming on. I have had very few of these, but trust me you can always tell the difference between headache & migraine. I desperately wanted to be some place cool & dark. Anywhere but trapped in this hovel of a room that now had 3 people in it to increase the temp another 20 degrees. What does the sales guy decide is a brilliant plan? To have me phone interview with the company for the job they can't describe to me right that minute. I vetoed that plan because VPN was the last thing on my mind. I escaped from there & heard no word back on the position. Though I did get to spend the next 2 days with a migraine.

After that day I proceeded to have several more phone conversations with the moron that all went about the same:
Moron: I have great opportunity X for you.
Me: Sounds great, let me know when you have any information on an interview.
*Never hear back from moron*
We have repeated this ritual several times now. I am positive he has never gotten anyone a job ever & should consider a more french fry based career path.

3) The Perplexed: Nothing ever came of this particular encounter but it was my favorite conversation with a cold calling recruiter yet...
Perp: Hi, I'm so & so in Chicago and I have a position in the Milwaukee area.
Me: Ok
Perp: It is for a software developer & I'm not sure what kind of candidates I am going to find in Milwaukee. Have you ever done software development?
Me: No
Perp: I don't know what kind of candidates I'm going to get in Milwaukee. Have you ever done any software packaging?
Me: No
Perp: I don't know what kind of candidates I'm going to get in Milwaukee. Have you ever worked in an SAP environment?
Me: No
Perp: I don't know what kind of candidates I'm going to get in Milwaukee. So I am going to go ahead & submit your resume to my client.
Me: Ok, sounds good.

I was completely unqualified for the position & basically told her as much. However, apparently here in Milwaukee (a mere 75 miles from Chicago mind you) we are computer illiterate and as long as I can turn one on I'm suddenly qualified for anything. I still have a vision of this woman thinking of Wisconsin as the land of toothless, inbred, beer drinking, cow tipping, hicks with a strangely high pension for cheese & brats.
I guess she drew the short straw when she got stuck with that requisition.

4) Then there were short people...
I submitted my resume to a recruiter for a level 2/3 support position that seemed interesting. I got a very quick response & chatted briefly with the recruiter. She called me yesterday to setup an interview for today. Not a problem. The only other thing I had going on was the interview out at Schiavo Inc. I figure if I schedule all my interviews in one day I only have to dress up once. I was supposed to meet the recruiter at the client site about 10 minutes before the interview. I show up & meet with the recruiter. We chatted briefly & she assures me this won't be more than an hour. Then she proceeds to pass me off to the onsite recruiter. Mind you the recruiting company's location is across the street from the client. Why on earth they needed someone 'onsite' is beyond me. The onsite woman then dumps me in a room & says that the woman interviewing me will be down shortly. I stare at the one piece of art in the room for awhile. Then I check my phone only to see that the Nazi has called for an update on the Schiavo Inc interview. Then I started listening in on the conference call across the hall. Time always passes slowly when you are waiting, but this seemed to be getting a little long. Finally, the onsite recruiter comes back & says the interviewer was stuck on a conference call & would down in a minute.
Only on a fucking Tuesday does the following occur...
A MIDGET whips around the corner into the room. Umm, I recall being warned about a pregnant woman, so why not a midget?? It isn't that I have any short people issues that I know of, but come on that would throw anyone off guard. Then (if only I were making this up) she climbs into the chair across from me, grabs the adjustable lever on the chair and says:
"I don't like sitting up so high"
I was at a loss for words. Clearly my 3 foot height advantage precluded me from sympathizing with her chair issues. Then there were some really bad jokes that went through my head. Mostly, I just went all deer in headlights on her. Luckily, she didn't appear to require a response & moved on. All went well for the most part. I then in true 21st century fashion had to interview with another team member. He was deemed the technical one. That too went really well. However, when I emerged it was more than 2 hours since I had gotten there. Not even close to the one hour I was told. I then got to crawl home in rush hour traffic. Oh the joy of it all.

So as I continue on my quest to find a job I find myself wondering if I should learn some of those old slave songs. I think maybe it will make me look like an even better candidate at the next slave auction.

Maybe next tyme I will git meh one of those nice mas'ers Jus' like Orenthawl James.

I'm So Deviant...

....I don't even have to put effort in to causing trouble anymore.

I've been lazy about reading the blogs I like lately. So to catch up I started at my Uncle's blog Solus Sententia. Unbeknownst to me I was the topic of his latest post. Apparently, my blog address is not considered work friendly. Who knew?

I guess this is just particularly funny to me because I'm his fucking niece. We cavort around family gatherings in our rightful place as the black sheep. It is really not nearly as scandalous as his HR department seems to think. I wonder if any of them ran home that night to see what kind of porn 'Kinky Poe' had going on. Ooh, maybe I got a unique visitor out of this.

I guess this is as good of time as any to explain my nickname. Normally I run around the 'net as Knina (pronounced K-nina) which is a handle I took years ago. It was my friend Khrysten's nickname in high school & when I first needed a screen name for every little thing it was handy. When I started my blog I wasn't really sure how it was going to end up, what exactly I'd write about etc. So, I opted for a more discreet nickname. It sounds a little covert & all, but I've found you can google screen names as easily as you can google a real name. So the deal is this:
Kinky: I am, it comes up on occasion, you've been warned.
Poe: I love Baltimore. Not necessarily because of Edgar Allen Poe or even John Waters. I just love it there & would move there in a second. I'm not sure why, it just has this quirky eccentricity I adore. So I went with Poe.

Granted I was laid up with a broken leg & chomping painkillers like candy when I decided I just had to have a blog, but there it is.

All I Want For Christmas

It wasn't but a few short days ago I was singing the praises of cold air & steaming gingerbread lattes. However, as predicted my holiday cheer has a shorter shelf life than a Green Bay Packer player.
As usual this time of year people ask what you want for Christmas. It was while talking with Adrianna about her Christmas present I realized how old my list makes me. She was doing backflips over her parents paying for her car to get winterized as a Christmas present. My list is no more exciting.

1) A job: I'm not sure how you wrap one of these bad boys but I'm willing to forgo the bows on it.
2) A tooth filling: Because only when you are broke, without insurance & it is thanksgiving week when of course your dentist isn't working will you split a molar on a donut.
3) Pay off my doctor bill: Basically as soon as I got fired my insurance was cut off. The same day I got a call from the doctor's office about some chest xrays I apparently needed. Back in July they weren't sure, but I may have had pneumonia. They will withhold my good prescriptions if I don't jump through these hoops. So I rushed into to get the xrays taken before my insurance ran out. I was too late & my claim for $300 was rejected.
4) A 30K mile checkup on my car & new brakes: Much like the best friend I have a car that is as needy as any child I swear. Why on earth my 5 speed has worn out brakes at 30K miles I have no clue.
5) Ebay fraud repayment: I am neurotic about not getting ripped off on ebay. I follow all the rules and then some. However, sometimes it is just your turn to take it in the ass. I'm out $500 dollars (which was my safety net while unemployed) thanks to Ebay & Paypal.
6) License plate renewal: Yep I have been dodging the law since umm, June. However with December rapidly approaching I don't think I'll be able to drive around with that 2005 sticker on my plates much longer without at least one cop coming to get my ass.
7) A Crystal Ball: Something to tell me if my dad's side of the family is pissed at me about some inane thing before I show up for Christmas dinner. Something to tell me if there is a job remotely near my skill level in my future. Something to tell me if I'm destined to be a crazy cat lady.
8) Sex: I just think this one would make me feel better about all the other ones. I'm all about Mr. Robinson, but somehow I'm sure that is going to end up a disaster along the lines of the Juggler.

Torture Devices (or why I haven't posted)

I have tons to write about I swear. Unfortunately I was house sitting the last few days. Granted there was a computer at said house. A high speed internet connection was also available. So why no blogging? Had the one of the dogs chewed off my arm? Possibly a run in with the neighbor who grills meat out of a large steel drum reminiscent of those Dahmer stored bodies in? Worse...

The problem lied with the supposedly ergonomic mouse & keyboard. Do not be fooled! These are in fact not computer accessories. They are actually torture devices put on this planet to drive me crazy. I had planned for the mouse fiasco & actually brought my Logitech MX1000 mouse with me. Pretentious of me? Most definitely, but my sanity got to remain in tact. The keyboard on the other hand I had forgotten about. I don't care how fucking natural it is suppose to make typing. I'd much rather get carpal tunnel but retain my ability to type more than 5 words an hour. I prefer my soft touch, low profile, not ergonomic keyboard any day.

So there is my excuse. Lots of thrilling posts coming soon. Hope everyone had a good holiday.

Random Humor

You know the TV you come across late at night when you are half asleep? It's always the weirdest shit. This one in particular made me do a double take.

Tis The Season Or Some Shit

As you might have guessed I am fairly anti-holiday. The stress, confronting family dysfunction over food, etc. It isn't really my cup of tea. I'd much rather hole up in my house safe from the weather, the neurosis & general calamity of the holiday season.
However, I am not completely cold hearted about it. Yesterday I had one of my warm fuzzy winter moments. There will at most be three of these so I have to relish them when they happen.
I went to the Barnes & Noble to pickup a birthday present for my mom. The weather in Wisconsin has just made that discernible shift from fall to winter. I can see my breath, the air is dry as a bone & all my cravings involve hearty meals and warm drinks. Like any good B&N patron I came in from the cold and made a beeline for the Starbucks counter. If there is one thing Starbucks does right it is the Gingerbread Latte. You can only get them this time of year, but it is so worth it. If you have never tried one run, don't walk to your local Starbucks & have one. It is literally like drinking holiday cheer. I roamed the bookstore steaming venti gingerbread latte in hand and for a brief moment didn't think about the usual 'What am I going to get so & so?' and 'How much wine will I have to consume to deal with the Catholic side of the family?'. Instead I just wander around soaking up the books & cheesy music. For almost two hours it felt like everything was going to be okay. I will find a way to give presents even though I'm broke. I will be happy to see the Catholics & eat the mysteriously yummy veggie casserole. All gifts will be wrapped to my exacting OCD standards.
Notably, I will probably have 15 posts that curse the holidays to their very core & damn all things Christmas straight to hell. I suck at the holidays. My stress level goes through the roof, I loathe everyone...the whole nine yards. But for now I'm going to indulge my few minutes of hope that everything will be great.

Trust Me On The Sunscreen

It's entirely possible I'm losing my mind. I wholly blame my current Rhapsody playlist. It involves some strange combination of Prince, Alanis Morisette, Bob Dylan, Dire Straits, Simon & Garfunkel and Baz Luhrmann.
Since my more cognitive functions are on the outs right now I thought I'd offer up something actually well written. If you don't remember this it is a spoken word piece from a few years ago. Also, the best thing to listen to when you don't know what else to do with yourself.

Everybody's Free To Wear Sunscreen by Baz Luhrmann
Ladies and Gentlemen of the class of ’99...
If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be
it. The long term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by
scientists whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable
than my own meandering experience…I will dispense this advice now.

Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth; oh nevermind; you will not
understand the power and beauty of your youth until they have faded.
But trust me, in 20 years you’ll look back at photos of yourself and
recall in a way you can’t grasp now how much possibility lay before
you and how fabulous you really looked….You’re not as fat as you
imagine.

Don’t worry about the future; or worry, but know that worrying is as
effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing
bubblegum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that
never crossed your worried mind; the kind that blindside you at 4pm
on some idle Tuesday.

Do one thing everyday that scares you

Sing

Don’t be reckless with other people’s hearts, don’t put up with
people who are reckless with yours.

Floss

Don’t waste your time on jealousy; sometimes you’re ahead, sometimes
you’re behind…the race is long, and in the end, it’s only with
yourself.

Remember the compliments you receive, forget the insults; if you
succeed in doing this, tell me how.

Keep your old love letters, throw away your old bank statements.

Stretch

Don’t feel guilty if you don’t know what you want to do with your
life…the most interesting people I know didn’t know at 22 what they
wanted to do with their lives, some of the most interesting 40 year
olds I know still don’t.

Get plenty of calcium.

Be kind to your knees, you’ll miss them when they’re gone.

Maybe you’ll marry, maybe you won’t, maybe you’ll have children,maybe
you won’t, maybe you’ll divorce at 40, maybe you’ll dance the funky
chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary…what ever you do, don’t
congratulate yourself too much or berate yourself either – your
choices are half chance, so are everybody else’s. Enjoy your body,
use it every way you can…don’t be afraid of it, or what other people
think of it, it’s the greatest instrument you’ll ever own..

Dance…even if you have nowhere to do it but in your own living room.

Read the directions, even if you don’t follow them.

Do NOT read beauty magazines, they will only make you feel ugly.

Get to know your parents, you never know when they’ll be gone for
good.

Be nice to your siblings; they are the best link to your past and the
people most likely to stick with you in the future.

Understand that friends come and go,but for the precious few you
should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and
lifestyle because the older you get, the more you need the people you
knew when you were young.

Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard; live
in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft.

Travel.

Accept certain inalienable truths, prices will rise, politicians will
philander, you too will get old, and when you do you’ll fantasize
that when you were young prices were reasonable, politicians were
noble and children respected their elders.

Respect your elders.

Don’t expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund,
maybe you have a wealthy spouse; but you never know when either one
might run out.

Don’t mess too much with your hair, or by the time you're 40, it will
look 85.

Be careful whose advice you buy, but, be patient with those who
supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia, dispensing it is a way of
fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the
ugly parts and recycling it for more than it’s worth.

But trust me on the sunscreen…

Mr. Robinson

I'm going to take a break from the woes of unemployment & go back to another disasterous portion of my existence: My love life.

As usual I was trolling over at Collar Me when I got a chat invite from random guy X. He has tried to talk to me a few times before. I blew him off for one key reason: He lives in New York. I have a complex about New Yorkers. They are always suspiciously drawn to me. I don't mean a little bit. I mean in a way that has me convinced if I were to walk down the streets of NY a mass of men would be hurling themselves at me. This may sound a tad arrogant, but I assure you it has nothing to do with my looks. Outside of thrid world countries men are not likely to lineup for my attentions. That being said I think New Yorkers have a sixth sense about my bitterness. It seems to be the only place where my sarcastic & pessimistic nature is truely appreciated. Go figure.

Back to random guy X...I turn down his chat request only to get an email. This is not wholly uncommon. Submissive men tend to be a lot like stalkers in their level of determination. He simply asked 'Why not?'. I explained my New York phobia & also politely pointed out he is 4o (making him approximately 14 years my senior). This was not even remotely effective in diswaying him. In an attempt to dodge my NY issues he announced that he had actually just moved back there from silicon valley. I have a severe weakness for northern California. It is the only place you can hit a winery and a leather shop in the same afternoon.
And so begins the story of Mr. Robinson...
We began chatting about a month ago. I talk to lots of people online & don't think much of it. It's like cheap entertainment. However, much to my chagrin this one managed to hold my interest.

Here is what I know so far: He is attractive, a Jewish Atheist, a hot shot salesman who is well off & a Princeton graduate. He majored in physics, used to play competitive chess, never married, one daughter who just started college, loves to travel & he can cook (A major turn on for those of us who grew up mastering the fine art of microwaving). Oh yeah and kinky. There are a bunch of other things, but those are the basics.

Our first phone conversation was 5 hours long. He was in Hong Kong at the end of October & bought me a present. He wanted to fly me out to New York. I passed for now. I prefer disaster happen on my own turf. He is seriously too good to be true, but I have yet to find 'the catch' so to speak. As my best friend pointed out I've gotten mooney over him.
The problem is I don't want to be mooney over him. I want to hate him & leave him in New York. This is not what is happening. Quite the contrary actually. We have a lot in common, he smart, doesn't take my shit (this is key when dealing with me) when I get frustrated & basically doesn't have the bullshit my usual choices come with.
Where is the bad here you ask?
I feel like a sellout.
It's so cliche. The rich older guy with the younger woman. Granted his last 3 girlfriends have been under 30 so he must be doing something right. Not to mention my best friend has always had me pegged to marry older & wealthy.
I feel like a victim of sociobiology. He wants a younger attractive female & I aspire to want whichever male will best take care of me. This is so not my nature. I like being an independent woman who can take care of herself without a man. I adore them. I want to get married. I just don't want to forsake myself in the process.

At least this one doesn't juggle...as far as I know.

So, here's to you Mr. Robinson, coo coo ca-choo.

Obvious Much?

I just can't get over today's headline on the US page at CNN:


Did we really need to point this out? The war itself was almost 100 years ago now. Shit like this just makes me want to bang my head against the wall...and then go to the BBC for news.

The Upside of Thursday

So I have given you the weekly job update...Now for two things that actually brightened my day. Most people hate the dreaded "FW:***" emails. Why? Because you have either already seen it, it is lame or usually both. However, yesterday was a banner day in actually interesting forwards.

First one is courtesy of Dave & made me laugh, so I had to share. Sadly, I think I could ace questions 4-6 the best.
The Ten Worst Interview Questions:
10) Imagine you are a frog. Which beer do you prefer and why?
9) The person conducting the interview gets up during the meeting, turns around, points his/her rear end in your direction and asks: "Does my ass look big in this?"
8) "Describe in detail the last time you 'squealed like a pig' in a wood or forest down south."
7) "Order the following with your favorite first, least favorite last, giving reasons for your choices:

• 9/11
• World War Two
• Mount St Helena erupting
• Hurricane Katrina
• Pakistan Earthquake 2005
• Valentines Day Massacre
• San Francisco Earthquake 1918

6) For a position as a Vice President: What positives did you take away with you from the motion picture American Psycho?
5) "Tell me what you admire most about each of the following: The Yorkshire Ripper, Hannibal Lector and Freddie Kruger?"
4) "Imagine we are in a bar. Convince me that I want to go home and have sex with you."
3) (For multiple interviewer situations). "Imagine the three of us are on a plane which crashes, we are the only survivors. We have no food and one of us must be killed and eaten. Which one of us is to be dinner, and why?"
2) "When was the last time someone called you an asshole? Did you deserve it?"
1) "An hysterical, foaming at the mouth, man with a chain saw is going to come charging into the room in a minute. This is a test to show how you handle stress. I am allowed to tell you that the person is in fact a vice president of the company. He will scream at you, he may punch, slap and scratch you. How you respond to this provocation will determine if we hire you or not. Could you please sign this disclaimer which you don't need to read right now but basically says you agree to any kind of torture we can think of... . Good luck now..."

The next bit of good cheer came from my best friend. This is so her & I it is pathetic...
True Friendship:
1. When you are sad - I will help you get drunk and plot revenge against the sorry bastard who made you sad.
2. When you are blue - I will try to dislodge whatever is choking you.
3. When you smile - I will know you’ve finally had sex.
4. When you are scared - I will rag on you about it every chance I get.
5. When you are worried - I will tell you horrible stories about how much worse it could be and tell you to quit whining.
6. When you are confused - I will use little words.
7. When you are sick - stay the hell away from me until you are well again. I don’t want whatever you have.
8. When you fall - I will point and laugh at your clumsy ass.

This is my oath…I pledge it till the end.
Why, you ask?
Because you are my friend.

Thursday: The Russian Roulette of All Weekdays

Apparently Thursday is anything can happen day, especially for the unemployed. For the second straight Thursday I have had chaos break loose on my ass.

I had an interview scheduled for 1130am. By no means the job of my dreams, more like something do to for a couple weeks while I'm looking around.
Being me I had failed to set my alarm clock back an hour for daylight savings. Why bother? I mean the digital cable box resets itself, my computer resets itself, so why not my alarm clock? Probably because the thing is older than I am & is not nearly as self sufficient as the rest of my household technology. Ironically, this works to my advantage because I had just woken up an hour earlier than I wanted to when my phone rang. It was another recruiter who wanted me to come in & interview as well. After that phone call my day just kind of snowballed...

815am: Set up a 2pm interview
1130am: Go to the interview for the crappy contract with crappy pay...and of course I nail it.
200pm: Go to second interview.
230pm: I was having a perfectly nice interview with one guy when the sales person jumps in as well. The sales guy talks about 9000 miles a minute & wants me to phone interview right that second for a job they can hardly describe to me. I passed on that option instead offering to do an in person interview some time today.
245pm: Desperately trying to leave interview due to impending migraine
315pm: Get out of interview & check voicemail...Another recruiter has called. One I haven't talked to in months.
320pm: Not even home from the second interview when the first guy calls me back to setup a client interview for Monday.
330pm: Arrive home to pile of emails from both interviews.
330pm & beyond: I was right about the migraine, spent the whole night in misery...The undocumented dangers of job hunting.

I felt like such a ping pong ball yesterday. So far as I can tell I am a great candidate, it's just no one knows what for. I don't even know if that is good or bad at this point.

I don't think it's big enough

The title of this picture is Light of the world.
I stumbled across this picture on a different blog. The person was going on & on about how it filled them with all these warm fuzzy religious feelings.
I beg to differ.
If god is the light of the world shouldn't he have something a tad larger than a lantern? Couldn't we at least get his ass a maglite or something?

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.