If I don’t get this job, I’m kinda screwed. I haven’t even been told that I have the job, but I’m walking around like I already do.
Well… there WAS only one other person interviewed for the job, after all. Also, the guy at the recruitment agency said it’s looking ‘very, very positive’ for me. Unfortunately, the guy at the company at the job I’m going for may not make his decision until late this week. This is more excruitating than that time I was so stoned I couldn’t stand up, and I was stuck in front of a TV set which featured Rage – guest programmed by SAVAGE GARDEN.
The next problem is that the job doesn’t start right near the end of September. Currently I’m trying to organise some temp work for the next few weeks. I’ve signed up with tempsonline.com.au, but whenever a temp agency rings me, the conversation is usually:
Temp agency person: Hello. Can I speak to Jeb please?
Me: Yes, that’s me.
Temp agency person: Oh, great. I’ve just got your details from tempsonline and I have an assignment here for you… how long are you available for?
Me: Well, I’ve got a full time job, but it doesn’t start until near the end of the month. I’m just looking for a few weeks work to fill in until then.
Temp agency person: (abruptly) We’ll get back to you – bye.
I never realised that finding only a couple of weeks work could be more difficult than managing Vanilla Ice’s comeback attempt in ’98.
*****
The company I’m hoping I get the job at is very small – only five people. They all seem to work quite well there though. I’d be starting off in a personal assistant type position to the director I think, but it’s mainly so I can learn how they do things (it’s a primarily sales organisation). Eventually I’m supposed to become a salesperson, which is something I would have never contemplated doing.
The job interview was strange, but most of mine are lately. When I entered the reception of the office, the receptionist kept harassing me to have a cup of coffee. I don’t think she had a great deal of work to do – whenever they got a delivery she’d squeal in delight as if it was her fourth orgasm of the day.
I wasn’t going to hold out for coffee. Knowing my luck, the director would have walked out while I was halfway through my cup, and then I’d be left in a situation where I wouldn’t be able to put it anywhere (there were no tables or anything). See, if I had have left it on the ground, I would doubtlessly have mistakenly kicked it on my exit from the office. I know what I’m like.
After bravely holding out from the receptionist’s challenges to have a drink, the director came out and seemed like a nice guy. We got on well enough. The first thing he said was ‘Well, it’s my first interview, so let’s see how we go!’ before waving a how-to-job-interview book around in the air. I felt ill straight away – he probably knew as little about this whole process as I did. The next thing he did was offer me something to drink.
Now, a receptionist offering you a drink and the interviewer offering you a drink are two different things. The receptionist was simply bored. The interviewer probably read in his book that he could determine what kind of person I was by what kind of drink I asked for. In retrospect, I should have asked for coffee perhaps, to make myself appear like a real caffeine hardass, prepared to work through the night. Instead, I asked for the most watered-down drink of them all: water.
‘Rightey oh,’ he replied. ‘I’ll be right back – oh, and here’s my business card, too,’ he added as he thrust a bit of cardboard into my hand. I studied it and tried to see if I could learn anything new about the company to make it look like I’d done some research on them. I heard him walking back down the hall with my drink and realised I should probably be putting the card away somewhere – otherwise I’ll be waving my arms around in the interview, one hand with a glass of water, the other with a business card. I quickly calculated if I’d have enough time to stow it in my bag – no, the bag is too far away. I’d have to get out of my chair and that could look suspicious. I decided to chuck it in my pocket, and of course it wouldn’t quite go in as smoothly as I imagined, so when the director walked in it looked like I was feverishly itching my pubic hair.
Hello, I’m Jeb, I have crabs. Hire me!
So we went through the first few questions, all the usual garb. It was around the point of the third question that he politely asked ‘What’s that ring there?’, pointing to my finger.
Usually I remember to take my ring off before I have job interviews. Wearing an anarchy ring probably wouldn’t make a very good impression on most interviewers – I only wear it because of Adam (he had always thought it stood for A for Adam). ‘It’s nothing,’ I dismissed him, as I slid the ring around backwards.
It was a good interview nonetheless until 11am, when my watch’s alarm went off. I didn’t even know it was the watch, I thought it was his mobile phone. I’m a dildo. Actually, Adam’s a dildo – it’s his watch. He seemed to think I’d be fit for the job though, so all fingers crossed. I guess my old plan of sleeping my way to the top won’t necessarily work with only five people in the company, but I’ll do my best.
*****
This fear-of-coffee thing is getting way out of hand. Okay, so maybe I can partly attribute it to fear of the unknown, but it’s no major issue. However, I did get an email from Shaun this week that alarmed me somewhat.
‘You should try caramel latte,’ he advised. Now hang on here. Caramel latte? That’s seriously invading in my territory. Caramel is quite clearly part of the junk food group, something I take great pride in consuming. Latte, however, is obviously a coffee product. I don’t want the two worlds merging together to create some sort of scarily inticing lah-tay product. Keep the caramel out of this, sickos. Don’t even try to tempt me with a mocha. In fact, don’t even try to make it look junky to me by calling it a ‘choc-a-chino’.
Besides, I’m only drinking dry ginger ale now. Find me a coffee that involves dry ginger ale, and I might be swayed.
*****
A temp agency rang me this week and I got put on hold while the woman retrieved details about the specific job. They just had a radio station for their on hold music. A song came on and I couldn’t quite remember who wrote it, but damn it was catchy. It was when I sang out loud ‘Ooh, ah, I want you,’ that I simultaneously realised:
1. I was singing a Savage Garden song.
2. The woman who had just answered the phone probably wanted to know why I wanted her.
Even when I explained to her, I don’t think she believed me.
*****
I think it’s high time I shaved off my goatee, but I can’t. I’ve had it for years now, but I’ve run into Long-Term Facial Hair Syndrome.
Long-Term Facial Hair Syndrome strikes when people simply can’t picture you without your facial hair. When you’ve had it for so long it’s an unquestioned part of yourself. Even if you’re female.
Since it’s inception, my goatee has only been shaved off once. It was one of the most humilating days of my life – I was living at a student residence and everyone laughed at me (this was after they got over the initial shock of thinking a stranger had broken into their room).
And don’t think it’s just me who suffers from this, either. Famous people have Long-Term Facial Hair Syndrome, too. One look at Rich from Survivor post-island-shenanigans and you’ll see what I mean.
The problem lies with the chin. When guys shave off beards and goatees, their chin looks like it’s had plastic surgery performed on it. I’ve got a bit of a weird chin, it’s sort of like an upside down pear.
*****
What TV advertisement has got my goat today? Why, it’s Telstra’s latest round of promotions!
In these advertisements, Telstra (who recorded a record profit this year) show how they performed their cost-cutting (eg taping TV ads at their call centres rather than hiring expensive actors). They show how friendly their staff are:
Telstra man: Why, Call Number Display is so useful. I can see who’s calling me before I answer the phone. So I can either answer (assumes offended, aloof, spiteful tone of voice) IN MY WORK VOICE, or (assumes happy, bouncy tone of voice) in my FRIENDLY FRIEND voice!
They also show their commitment to call centre efficiency:
Telstra woman: Oh, I have so much fun with people who call. We just talk about anything!! (slightly insane giggle)
Too bad if you call up with a bill enquiry – this woman wants to talk about her CATS.
*****
After we arrived home from last Friday and Saturday’s adventures in the city, Adam and I slept most of the day. When we woke up I made a decision that we’d get some pizza, because we still had semi-hangovers. I’m not sure if I was mumbling due to sickness or if the pizza woman was just suspicious, but:
Me: I’ll have an Aussie pizza, and… (Adam yells out in the background that he wants a Vegetarian pizza with ham) …and a Vegeterian pizza with ham, thanks.
Pizza woman: A Vegetarian?
Me: Yes.
Pizza woman: With ham?
Me: Yes.
(pause)
Pizza woman: Are you having me on?
Me: What do you mean?
Pizza woman: That’s not really… we don’t really… not many people ask for Vegetarian then ask to have meat on it.
Me: Can I get a vegetarian with ham then?
Pizza woman: Yes, I… don’t see why not. Anything else with this order?
Me: No that’s all.
Pizza woman: Okay, thanks for your-
Me: Actually, what time will that be here?
Pizza woman: WHAT?!
Me: Er..?
Pizza woman: You want WINE with that?
Me: Excuse me?
Pizza woman: We don’t have wine! (laughs in disbelief)
Me: I didn’t ask for wine!
I don’t even LIKE wine!
*****
It was father’s day on Sunday, and thankfully it wasn’t a public holiday. I’ve got this history happening of my testicles being hurt every time there’s a public holiday (Easter: crushed by a train seat; New Years Day: got kicked by a hooligan in a fast food carpark – the list will go on, just wait). It’s got to have been one of the first times I’ve ever remembered a birthday/holiday that involves an immediate member of my family. My mum knows I usually forget these things and has an embarassing way of ringing me up at 9am in the morning and saying ‘Well, I knew you’d forget to call, so I thought I’d call you.’ However, I managed to beat her on Sunday. I got in first.
The only problem was that I talked to her and then forgot to talk to my dad, and she had to call me back anyway.
*****
Now, on to games of a different sort. I’ve done some research (well, I watched A Current Affair a couple of times) and I think I’ve finally pinned down the reason that most people born in the early 70′s grew up to be psychotic: Atari.
Now, let’s take a look at some of the games that appeared on Atari’s good ole 7800.
* Centipede. You are encourged to shoot and maim an animal until it’s dead – even when it’s in the middle of reproducing.
* Breakout. You are encourged to throw objects at installations above you until they are completely broken.
* Boulderdash. You are encouraged to dig tunnels on what is surely unauthorised property, and to run away from boulders in such a fashion that they crush other people around you.
* Pac-Man. You’re encouraged to walk around, taking drugs to the extent that you think there’s ghosts chasing you, and the only way you can destroy them is by EATING them.