INTERVIEW BLUES...
...5 interviews this week so far...SCAM, SCAM, SCAM! Round up with a hang-over by 6 p.m. with the success rate of 0...and so, I goes and I dress-up in big expensive suit and tie and I actually look rather rape-worthy as I notice quite a few eyes on me today and it just makes me nervous like Joe Cocker shakes...
...1st interview goes all hairy like balls...miss my exit...wind up in downtown Yuppiesville (looking like I actually fit in, will avoid the short-north)...back to 315 North or West (can't remember)...wind up on Henderson (where I belong)...miss the damn law firm building, as nothing in this Celion Dion city is ever numbered right, so I'm as late as constipation allows...and by now my dress shirt is all covered in sweat because I don't like to use the air-conditioner in my car...and I'm faced with having to tell the two hiring attorneys what went wrong, as I slur my words like I should be drinking...and the one attorney, I can tell, just wants to lick my face off...and so this makes me even more nervous as I wind up with a heavy erection, hidden by my tie...and by this time I don't even know how to talk anymore...just want to get out of this place...too many smiles...I don't like smiles= they seem so reinforced...
So...the next interview is what I call "BS I love U"...and in between that time...I go to old corporate bookstore to stare at pictures of Deborah Harry getting me hot in some alternative magazine...the cashier is a red-head, but I fall for the short brunette who opens up the front door for me and laughs because I keep spilling my cup of coffee all over the rugs, and she is really sweet like atheist innocence...and I really need my cigarette by now and look just like a closet whore lighting up in a suit and tie and sometimes I make myself hot...and it's times like that when I know I really should be drinking...
"B.S. I LOVE U"...never again folks! Drive 10 miles to that second interview on the west end of vagina-smack paradise...shirt is all wet looking like I pissed myself on a roller-coaster ride down to sin-city...shake masturbation tools with the big sharks...wind-up in seminar room with tons of other sheep who received the big call: SAW YOUR RESUME ONLINE: PLEASE LET US ASSIST YOU WITH OUR OWN ASS-HOLE NEEDS (INTERPRETED AS:WE NEED A TOILET PAPER SCRUBBER TO WIPE IN BETWEEN THE CHEEKS)...one cute girl in the session managed to keep me insane enough to stay as I felt her eyes on me and made up some BS excuse of what my career goals and expectations are...as sometimes it pays to be a whore...
Drove back home looking all professional and sexy, blasting out the latest Portishead "3"...."Small" gave me an erection...girl looking at me through the rear-view mirror makes me nervous...she's a red head...and I know right about this time I should be drinking...
...will skip the first interview tomorrow...lesson learned: NEVER ATTEND AN INTERVIEW WITH ANY FINANCIAL OR INSURANCE ORGANIZATION THAT "SPOTTED YOU ON THE INTERNET"! It means bad things and serves as a further notice that you should stay at home and be drinking...AND THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT I DID TODAY AFTER THE LAST "BS I LOVE U" interview...
...5 interviews this week so far...SCAM, SCAM, SCAM! Round up with a hang-over by 6 p.m. with the success rate of 0...and so, I goes and I dress-up in big expensive suit and tie and I actually look rather rape-worthy as I notice quite a few eyes on me today and it just makes me nervous like Joe Cocker shakes...
...1st interview goes all hairy like balls...miss my exit...wind up in downtown Yuppiesville (looking like I actually fit in, will avoid the short-north)...back to 315 North or West (can't remember)...wind up on Henderson (where I belong)...miss the damn law firm building, as nothing in this Celion Dion city is ever numbered right, so I'm as late as constipation allows...and by now my dress shirt is all covered in sweat because I don't like to use the air-conditioner in my car...and I'm faced with having to tell the two hiring attorneys what went wrong, as I slur my words like I should be drinking...and the one attorney, I can tell, just wants to lick my face off...and so this makes me even more nervous as I wind up with a heavy erection, hidden by my tie...and by this time I don't even know how to talk anymore...just want to get out of this place...too many smiles...I don't like smiles= they seem so reinforced...
So...the next interview is what I call "BS I love U"...and in between that time...I go to old corporate bookstore to stare at pictures of Deborah Harry getting me hot in some alternative magazine...the cashier is a red-head, but I fall for the short brunette who opens up the front door for me and laughs because I keep spilling my cup of coffee all over the rugs, and she is really sweet like atheist innocence...and I really need my cigarette by now and look just like a closet whore lighting up in a suit and tie and sometimes I make myself hot...and it's times like that when I know I really should be drinking...
"B.S. I LOVE U"...never again folks! Drive 10 miles to that second interview on the west end of vagina-smack paradise...shirt is all wet looking like I pissed myself on a roller-coaster ride down to sin-city...shake masturbation tools with the big sharks...wind-up in seminar room with tons of other sheep who received the big call: SAW YOUR RESUME ONLINE: PLEASE LET US ASSIST YOU WITH OUR OWN ASS-HOLE NEEDS (INTERPRETED AS:WE NEED A TOILET PAPER SCRUBBER TO WIPE IN BETWEEN THE CHEEKS)...one cute girl in the session managed to keep me insane enough to stay as I felt her eyes on me and made up some BS excuse of what my career goals and expectations are...as sometimes it pays to be a whore...
Drove back home looking all professional and sexy, blasting out the latest Portishead "3"...."Small" gave me an erection...girl looking at me through the rear-view mirror makes me nervous...she's a red head...and I know right about this time I should be drinking...
...will skip the first interview tomorrow...lesson learned: NEVER ATTEND AN INTERVIEW WITH ANY FINANCIAL OR INSURANCE ORGANIZATION THAT "SPOTTED YOU ON THE INTERNET"! It means bad things and serves as a further notice that you should stay at home and be drinking...AND THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT I DID TODAY AFTER THE LAST "BS I LOVE U" interview...
merlowe:
I am preety much excluded from financial institutions simply because of my credit worthiness or lack there of ..I hate how looking for a job somehow turns into a job!