Concrete Mazes
Randomly getting a job interview one day after applying can mean one of two things. 1. You are the shit. 2. This is a scam.
I am hoping for the former than the latter. Being the good job applicant that I am, Vlad and I drove to this office building, in the rain, through Spaghetti Junction, I- 285, and 400…just so I wouldn’t screw up trying to make it there the next morning for my interview. If you live in Atlanta, you know these three roads are a death trap, and if you’re not from Atlanta then I have to tell you…
They’re a death trap.
I already hate Atlanta traffic enough as it is, but I REALLY hate Sandy Springs/Dunwoody. There’s absolutely nothing out there but thousands of traffic filled, 6- lane, windy, confusing, never-ending roads. No scenery, lots of honking and big ass office buildings and steel. There’s no character whatsoever like there is downtown. Its industrial suburbia hell and it stresses me out just thinking about it. Its scary and confusing and like a giant steel and concrete maze you’re forced to inch your way through because there’s so many damn bumper-to-bumper SUV, BMW, Lexus and other suburbia cars. Everywhere.
Did I mention I’m still excited as hell to get an interview for this job?
It’s an advertising agency called. “Full Circle Inc.” Yeah, me. An advertisement person? Hopefully this wont be just about getting clients, or having to “Sell, Sell, Sell!” but about creating the Ads, writing the slogans, the sales pitches, the jingles, etc. I’m afraid it’s going to turn into a huge mess and I’ll end up calling companies to purchase products or buy Ads from us, or something.
Unfortunately, I have no idea what the job I’m applying for actually is. They never actually told me…and maybe I should look at this as a bad sign.
Or I should look into that tomorrow before I go in, when the first question out of the interviewers mouth is, “So why did you apply for this job, and why do you feel you’re a qualified candidate?”
I certainly can’t reply, “Well, Becky, I clicked the little link on Monsterjobs.com where it said Ad agency and yours was the first place that popped up that said I was qualified. Granted, you basically only had to be able to breathe air and you’d be qualified for you company, which is why I figured I’d apply. I can breathe air pretty well and after being rejected so many times in the last two years, at least I know I can do that right. I really only just recently decided to choose this career path because my favorite authors did this, and I really want to write a novel and get a book deal, and they made it seem like this would be an important step and an easy and fun thing for me to do and possibly enjoy. So long story short, Becky, I kinda ended up here on a whim, hoping for the best. Hoping for a change. Where do I sign on the dotted line?”
I can picture her face while I’m talking, with her crisp modern-professional, yet still sexy and hip business suit, nodding tersely, eyes widening, leg twitching and thinking of a polite way to say, “Well, don’t call us, we’ll call you…” or better yet, “Get out of my office you crazed poor person. You obviously aren’t corporate material.”
I’d probably take that as a compliment, unfortunately.
When walking into their office today to scope things out, as soon as I pushed through the revolving glass doors (I know, right?) I felt like my sneakers and hair were too dirty for me to be breathing the same air as these corporate business folk, and at any moment the security guards would pick me up by the back of my neck and kindly throw me onto the muddy curb.
Where I belong.
I cant think that way though, because I’ll have no chance in hell ever getting this job, or any job where I don’t get to wear sneakers to work everyday.
The sneakers I immediately noticed smelled like rotten pizza the moment I walked into the snazzy office building. I wish I’d washed that garlic off that fell from the prep line the other day. Just in case I run into Mr. Big himself.
I really wish I knew what exactly it was I’m interviewing for so I could prepare myself to schmooze and lie and turn myself into the type of person they want working for their company.
Maybe it’s a good thing I don’t know, so I’ll be myself, and in turn, ironically be perfect for this job I know nothing about…because at this point in my life, I’m still trying to navigate my way through the concrete and steel maze in my own head, to figure out what I’m all about as well.
I am hoping for the former than the latter. Being the good job applicant that I am, Vlad and I drove to this office building, in the rain, through Spaghetti Junction, I- 285, and 400…just so I wouldn’t screw up trying to make it there the next morning for my interview. If you live in Atlanta, you know these three roads are a death trap, and if you’re not from Atlanta then I have to tell you…
They’re a death trap.
I already hate Atlanta traffic enough as it is, but I REALLY hate Sandy Springs/Dunwoody. There’s absolutely nothing out there but thousands of traffic filled, 6- lane, windy, confusing, never-ending roads. No scenery, lots of honking and big ass office buildings and steel. There’s no character whatsoever like there is downtown. Its industrial suburbia hell and it stresses me out just thinking about it. Its scary and confusing and like a giant steel and concrete maze you’re forced to inch your way through because there’s so many damn bumper-to-bumper SUV, BMW, Lexus and other suburbia cars. Everywhere.
Did I mention I’m still excited as hell to get an interview for this job?
It’s an advertising agency called. “Full Circle Inc.” Yeah, me. An advertisement person? Hopefully this wont be just about getting clients, or having to “Sell, Sell, Sell!” but about creating the Ads, writing the slogans, the sales pitches, the jingles, etc. I’m afraid it’s going to turn into a huge mess and I’ll end up calling companies to purchase products or buy Ads from us, or something.
Unfortunately, I have no idea what the job I’m applying for actually is. They never actually told me…and maybe I should look at this as a bad sign.
Or I should look into that tomorrow before I go in, when the first question out of the interviewers mouth is, “So why did you apply for this job, and why do you feel you’re a qualified candidate?”
I certainly can’t reply, “Well, Becky, I clicked the little link on Monsterjobs.com where it said Ad agency and yours was the first place that popped up that said I was qualified. Granted, you basically only had to be able to breathe air and you’d be qualified for you company, which is why I figured I’d apply. I can breathe air pretty well and after being rejected so many times in the last two years, at least I know I can do that right. I really only just recently decided to choose this career path because my favorite authors did this, and I really want to write a novel and get a book deal, and they made it seem like this would be an important step and an easy and fun thing for me to do and possibly enjoy. So long story short, Becky, I kinda ended up here on a whim, hoping for the best. Hoping for a change. Where do I sign on the dotted line?”
I can picture her face while I’m talking, with her crisp modern-professional, yet still sexy and hip business suit, nodding tersely, eyes widening, leg twitching and thinking of a polite way to say, “Well, don’t call us, we’ll call you…” or better yet, “Get out of my office you crazed poor person. You obviously aren’t corporate material.”
I’d probably take that as a compliment, unfortunately.
When walking into their office today to scope things out, as soon as I pushed through the revolving glass doors (I know, right?) I felt like my sneakers and hair were too dirty for me to be breathing the same air as these corporate business folk, and at any moment the security guards would pick me up by the back of my neck and kindly throw me onto the muddy curb.
Where I belong.
I cant think that way though, because I’ll have no chance in hell ever getting this job, or any job where I don’t get to wear sneakers to work everyday.
The sneakers I immediately noticed smelled like rotten pizza the moment I walked into the snazzy office building. I wish I’d washed that garlic off that fell from the prep line the other day. Just in case I run into Mr. Big himself.
I really wish I knew what exactly it was I’m interviewing for so I could prepare myself to schmooze and lie and turn myself into the type of person they want working for their company.
Maybe it’s a good thing I don’t know, so I’ll be myself, and in turn, ironically be perfect for this job I know nothing about…because at this point in my life, I’m still trying to navigate my way through the concrete and steel maze in my own head, to figure out what I’m all about as well.