Friday, June 26, 2009

Day 108

At least the car has air conditioning.
I didn't have to sweat it out on the way to my interview.
My hair did have all sorts of kink in it, though.

Company K is a behemoth.
I probably should have checked it out in person before the interview, but didn't have the time/energy. And I'm not quite sure it would have helped to begin with.

I get there with 10 minutes to spare.
Which, any place else, should have been more than enough time.
However, all of the "close" visitor spots were taken, and I could find absolutely NO PARKING anywhere in the lots.
And there were probably 10 lots.
Water water everywhere and not a drop to drink.
I finally see a lady park on the edge of a lot, so people would still be able to drive through and get out of their spots, this is my only option, and I'm hoping my car doesn't get towed.

After parking my car I have about two or seven minutes to get to the front desk (our car clock is 10-15 minutes fast depending on which radio station you're listening to or what clock tower you're looking at), this is no easy task in heels, in the blazing hot heat. But I haul it and enter the the building that is closest to me.

As luck would have it, their clock says I'm five minutes late, which is blatantly false.
I know for a fact, it did not take me 5-10 minutes to walk from my pseudo parking spot to the first building.

So I tell the receptionist, who is wearing really garish make-up, that I have a nine o'clock with a Ms. P. She looks at me blankly and then I say "AP" which is the name I was told by the employment agency that set up this interview. Besides the initial blank stare, she is helpful, and calls around to see what is up.

I sign in on a computer and it prints out a sticker nametag, which I think is rather lovely, and she tells me I have to go to the next building, and that I'm meeting with K.

So I'm looking like a complete jack-ass at this moment.

So I walk to the next building and tell the receptionist there I have an interview with K, and that they just sent me over from the other building. She seems to have the same blank stare the other girl had so I explain myself again, and she says, "So they know you're here?" To which I reply, "I guess?"

There was another girl waiting there in a dark business suit, and for a second I thought I was under-dressed. I just think business suits are totally lame, and so not me, so why try to promote myself as some weirdo corporate type when that is clearly who I am not? So I was in my "interview outfit" that I think is delightful and professional. Just like me.

I don't have to wait long, probably because they were expecting me, but K is extremely nice, and apologizes for the building mis-hap, and I make a comment on the parking zoo, and I feel at ease.
Plus she's in jeans. So I no longer felt under-dressed.

She asks me the basic questions, then sends in D who would be a peer of mine (she is currently an editor there) and then the infamous AP comes in and I meet with her. I thought the interviews themselves went rather well. I think I answered the questions properly, the job sounds like it would be a good fit, even if it is just for eight weeks.

Could this recession be getting a break?! Only time will tell.
And don't you worry, since temping is obviously a direct desendent of poor times, this blog will keep going.

Upon returning to the oven that is my home, I changed out of interview outfit, to keep it as fresh as possible without having to dry clean it, and hung out in my room.
The only room in our house with an air conditioner.

That night we had a brewer game, and as E and I were getting in the car two of our alley neighbors were in the alley picking up the garbage cans that keep getting knocked over by hoodlums.
We currently have three garbage cans, and I have no idea how we've acquired this many. You are supposed to have one per dwelling, so if you own a duplex you get two. But somehow we have three, the single family next door has two, the psuedo vacant house has a couple (at least) and I think even the vacant house as one. And all of our recycling bins are gone.

Neighbor #1 says that his car was just stolen and asked if we saw anything. We told him we didn't, and then Neighbor #2 said his window was broken, but we didn't hear that either.
Seriously, with the heat we spend as much time in our bedroom as possible without getting bedsores.

So I made a comment about how, luckily, we've not had any issues since we started parking our car in the back, on our slab (there are no garages on the alley). And Neighbor #2 said we wouldn't have any more problems ever since he chased away the would-be burglar, that incidentally enough, I just referenced a couple blogs ago.

He then tells us that he had to be careful so he wouldn't get in trouble because when he saw him breaking our window he ran outside with his gun and then fired it in the air, but the police couldn't know about that.
E and I just kind of stand there like, "Oh, right." What does one say to that?
Then the other guy was like "I would'a just popped him. I wouldn'a shot in the air, I woulda just popped him"
WTF???? And these are like good neighbors, not ghetto, friendly, family-oriented people.
Jesus Aitch.
E and I then say, something to the effect of "Well we'll see you later, hope we get our recycling bins back!"
Because we are the whitest people we know.
So now our favorite thing to say (in the comfort of our own home, mind you) is "I woulda just popped him."
I guess we're thankful they are on our side?

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