(no subject)
A dream I had about a job interview:
As I walk into the manager's office, he sizes me up. He is a middle-aged man, graying about the temples but strong-framed and with a keen intensity in his features. His face is deeply creased, the face of a man who clawed and bit his way into his position through sheer ability and backbreaking labor. His name is Carlo, and only Carlo. He asks me why I want the job. I go through a standard litany of reasons- I need work experience, I could use the money, gets me out of the house, need to fuel my cocaine habit, whatever seems appropriate. He nods throughout, and then partway through my explanation he holds up a finger. There is a moment of silence before he presses a large red button on his desk. On cue, two men of extreme surliness enter and hoist me by my armpits and knees. I am hauled into a room where USELESS is branded on my forehead in giant, bold letters. The two men take turns punching me for about five minutes and I am then hurled bodily down a garbage chute.
As I walk into the manager's office, he sizes me up. He is a middle-aged man, graying about the temples but strong-framed and with a keen intensity in his features. His face is deeply creased, the face of a man who clawed and bit his way into his position through sheer ability and backbreaking labor. His name is Carlo, and only Carlo. He asks me why I want the job. I go through a standard litany of reasons- I need work experience, I could use the money, gets me out of the house, need to fuel my cocaine habit, whatever seems appropriate. He nods throughout, and then partway through my explanation he holds up a finger. There is a moment of silence before he presses a large red button on his desk. On cue, two men of extreme surliness enter and hoist me by my armpits and knees. I am hauled into a room where USELESS is branded on my forehead in giant, bold letters. The two men take turns punching me for about five minutes and I am then hurled bodily down a garbage chute.