i'm not even sure where to begin on this one; such an absurd amount of time has elapsed since i last had the luxury of consistent, personal internet access. at first it was irritating and i was overwhelmed with helplessness in the stinging void of technology. then all at once it was liberating; i reclaimed my bohemian roots and frowned upon all those disillusioned folks, cross-eyed and bewitched by the ever-so-alluring mac glow. and then it was irritating, again. it's somewhat embarrassing to admit that my life was so significantly lacking without a pc; i thought i could handle it, grow to enjoy that sense of detachment...much in the way i had felt relief, while standing in line at the pharmacy, realizing i had fallen so out of touch with in touch weekly. but i suppose attempting to adhere to such simplicity is as fruitless as my attempts to maintain a vegan diet. i mean really people, what is life without cheese? i ask you this.
while i spent four months of bitching, moaning, wallowing, and spending an exceeding amount of time in the presence of a mother so blatantly in need of anti-depressants, the general consulate of portugal wiped its giant portuguese ass with my visa documents and flushed them down the terlet along with my hopes and dreams of a career as a starving metalsmith. that may be a tad dramatic as i still am blessed with mobile hands and clear vision, but you catch my drift. and so i scraped myself off the cold, hard winter floor. i ate a ton of ice cream, indulged in poorly-written vampire novels, watched a lot of chelsea handler, and ultimately found myself a new job and a new apartment and a new attitude and settled on back into the comforting embrace of the city. and to that i cheers a sam adams summer ale, and say fuck you portugal, your beer sucks.
i wish i had been capable of reliably documenting the shenanigans that were my tragic job-quests, as i'm now probing at the recesses of my brain to retrieve the memories i've so strenuously repressed. for months and months it was hours, days, weeks on job sites and no responses whatsoever. then, at my wits end (and probably somewhat delusional in hindsight) i stumbled in to an american apparel open call in downtown new haven and uncomfortably stood in line with pretentious, overly styled 20 year olds for a job which i didn't even want (sometimes i'm convinced i do things for the sake of social experimentation...as writers tend to do...like my tenured college poetry professor who on the side worked part time at a roller rink). i was asked really deep questions during this interview, such as how would you describe your personal style? along a few other mind-crushingly profound questions that allowed me to truly express my magna cum laude abilities in folding lycra uni-suits, using hand-held steamers, and showing my vagina to customers in the ways of very short shorts. i was then instructed to stand against a wall holding a clip board noting my name and telephone number (yes, like a mug-shot) and to strike a pose while being awkwardly, intrusively photographed. then again. and again. and one more time. hand on hip. without hand on hip. slight smile. sexy. smile with teeth. perfect. i was told this was purely to get a sense of how i might style myself if employed by the company. however, knowing all too well of the corporation's infamously perverted, sexist CEO, all i could visualize was a sweaty jewish businessman in knee socks and sweatbands, shuffling through a deck of polaroids and jacking off. i left the interview feeling emotionally raped and a having sacrificed a smidgen of my soul in having actually gone through with the whole shebang.
two weeks later i received an email from the store manager asking me to come in and re-photograph. apparently boots are against store policy...BOOTS...but not publicly apparent coke addictions or nipple exposing see-through lace onesies. go figure. and so i went right ahead and shoved the rest of my dignity way down to that dark place inside of me that homes my abashed affinities for reggaeton, cheese whiz, and the hills, trucked on in and let her take more shots of me, this time in heels. ouch. after a month-long shit show of nonsensical back and forths, they eventually hired me, thus reassuring me of my physical beauty and giving my life purpose once again.
to summarize (and i must because i'm giving myself an ulcer recalling this huge waste of time), i worked for the company for a single day...a whopping ten hours. this was only after i was forced to sign a stack of waivers promising to never divulge the inner-workings of the company or the CEO, that is unless i wished to be sued for a preposterous amount of money. the stock room coordinator i.e. the straight-out-of-college douchebag who was training me, triggered my up-chuck reflex in a way that not many have been able. clad in too-short seersucker shorts, chambray dress shirt and boat shoes (dear god, why boat shoes??), all 6 foot 6 inches, 130 pounds of him screamed i have no life or friends and boys beat me up in high school because i wore braces and ate my own snots and now being super serious about this hip company gives my life meaning and i'm going to grow from within and really advance so much that they'll bump my hourly wage from 9 dollars to 12 and then fire me without cause because i've gotten too old or too ugly or too fat. this gem of a human being spoke to me as if i was mentally retarded, giving me intensive lessons on how to fold t-shirts, and put trash into a dumpster, so you open up the top, you put the garbage in, and then you close it! when he told me i had to learn how to walk with purpose, i concluded that i'd rather eat my own feces than to watch the spit collect at the corners of his lips any longer. i never showed up for my second shift, issued a complaint to the store manager, and moved my ass back to the city i should have never left.
a strain of unfortunate job interviews did follow this painful retail incident; however, i at least find comic relief in those due to their twilight-zone-esque ridiculousness i.e. many how the hell did i manage to find the strangest, most unappealing jobs on all of craig's list and why am i up against 200 other applicants for them? life is strange and the economy is awful and though i'm not exactly solving world hunger at my new job working for karmaloop.com, at least i can pay my rent, eat weekly burritos, and spend a portion of my pay check at american apparel.
