Friday, February 02, 2007

Phone Interview

Off to Chicago for the weekend. Can't wait. I haven't seen Dave for three weeks and he's mad at me because I keep mentioning that I do/don't/do want to move there. As much as I don't want to, I'm going to. In fact, I had a phone interview this week that went horrible. I'd like to say that I purposefully bombed the interview to prolong my stay in New York, but I didn't have to put much effort into it. I suck at interviews. They're way too structured for me and when people ask me questions that I find intellectually offensive ("What type of environment do you want to work in?" "What does your average work day look like?") I can't suck it up and answer. Plus, I always think about what they want to hear and get flustered.

"What type of environment do you want to work in?"
  • What I think: All I know is there better be a full bar and a live band playing. Or, I want to wake up, sit on my couch for about two hours and watch shit like the View, drink coffee, and plop my labtop down to read pointless gossip about people I loathe all day. I may or may not wipe the crust out of my eyes. I definitely won't brush my teeth. To me, this would be ideal. Working from home. In my pajammas. Eye boogers falling down my cheek.

  • What I blubber out: "Hmm, that's a great question. What kind of environment do I want to work in? I would like a results-oriented, fast paced agency environment. I can work on my own or in a team structure."

"What does your average day look like?"

  • What I really do: Read Gawker, Perez Hilton and TMZ all day. Look for other jobs. Send out mass emails begging people to meet me for happy hour. IM with Dave and anyone else who wants to talk. Think about how I wish I were a famous novelist so that my work environment would be as described above. Make up fake diseases so I can have an excuse to go to the doctor/dermatologist/dentist/gyno on the clock.

  • What I say: "Well, every day is different for me. One day I might walk into ... " It's too boring to even repeat.

Anyway, all of this has nothing to do with the fact that some chick farted in my face on the Subway today. I'm not even lying. I was sitting down and a girl who was standing right next to me on our stalled train, let it go. The Skeeze was standing up and he smelled it too. I told him to imagine how I felt, having my nose flush with her toxic ass. He said that he almost called her out. I wish he would have. Anyone who thinks it's okay to do this, deserves certain punishment. Or death.
On that note, have a great weekend.

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