Thursday, 4 February 2016

Rainy trip to a dripping gig

En route to the capital for a job interview at Home depot-like place, very cute. I suppose I can see myself working there – unless the pay is as ghastly as someone mentioned, in which case I can’t spend all my time away from G for no financial gain, which is why I’m doing this in the first place. I am wearing a costume of my nicest clothes, selling an image of the person furthest removed from my actual mood: I'm in an expensive, large bra with lace so rough they're cutting my underboob. Over it an elegant, tight, pristine white t-shirt that only serves as an accentuation of the bra, because over the lot I have a long, thin beige cardigan with a beautiful lacey back and a lot of fabric going on in the front so as to mostly hide the boobs. Bottoms are my most severe, straight dark gray trousers I usually wear to funerals. There's Drej's best ever made necklace around my neck and fucking makeup plastered to my face. I put on a lot of foundation, because I tend to blush when I talk to strangers  and I expect people will ask me things like Where do you see yourself in five years? or Describe yourself in five words.. And Gods forbid I speak the truth there. Where do I see myself in five years? I'm a fucking hurricane; I see myself burning down my house and dragging my dog and husband across Mongolia, looking for Mammoths. In five words or less? I write BOOKS about myself, man. Books. Five words? "Words are my bitch, dude." How's that?
But the truth is I am bored of having no money for trifles and G refuses to travel penniless, so if I ever want to see another country while my husband is in it, I will have to pay for it. Hence I am going furthest removed from my actuality, putting on a regalia that includes a tame, reliable, bland me. The t-shirt stinks, because I wanted to wash it by hands in a hurry and it didn't work out, and I have my hair up in a sexy bun or so I thought: G said I look like Mary Poppins. That much about that. There are chinks in my costume, to be sure. The third episode of the new X files that I saw last night couldn't come at a better time. I am pretending to be human.

  Well, that was … interesting. Either the easiest thing I’ve ever done or the most depressing, depending on the outcome. It’s been a while since I felt so out of place.
        I arrived an hour and a half early, having just ridden the local city bus, for which I had to pay twice as I would if I didn’t forget my wallet at home. You can only pay with a small plastic card for the rides and I have one, but at home, so I had to buy another. I haven’t been on a local bus in ten years. But because this was the capital and the actual job was to be had on the other side of the country, several people didn’t come for the interview. The depot will hire a few hundred, I assume, so the frequence was 10 minutes for each call. A cheerful young woman came out to meet everyone individually, except me, whom she saw read, and asked to come in ahead, since I’m here and there’s an opening. She led me to the coldest, least pleasant looking individual I’ve met, who never smiled once or did anything to show he’s interested in talking to another human being at all – we were all beggars and underlings to him. So, there really was absolutely no way of knowing whether they stamped a big FUCK NO on my resume or OKAY, YEA, SURE, INTERESTING.
        It was a good thing I wore foundation – when I went to the restroom to pee I saw that I was blushed red under the thick layer of powder. The overall experience, first as it was for me, felt violating and dehumanizing, <sic>. I called G and offed to an adjacent Lidl, where you always get the weirdest sense of displacement. Lidls are all EXACTLY the same. I think I even started crying a little, because I really, really, really wanted this to be a teleportation device and when I walk out, I will be outside my home Lidl. I really did. It was dusky, raining, cold and windy in Ljubljana. I wanted to be home.
        As a lucky turn of event – no, the teleportation spell didn’t quite work, but Hermes did hear me – as I was exiting with my last buck’s worth of chocolate, I saw three young men that I saw when they were just coming in for the interview. I spoke to them while I was getting dressed, telling them what the job givers ask, how it goes and they thanked me for the heads up. Now I called out to them if they’ll happen to be passing by my town by any chance and they said for sure. Thus I hitched a ride in a large comfortable Audi, which got me home four hours sooner than I planned. Grandma was pissed at me, barking into the phone: how dare you get into the car with strange men! and everyone using the highway is still a little shaken by a horrendous chain-collision that took place last week, but the three guys told me loads about working for similar establishments and they put me down a minute away from my house, so it was great. Because it was raining so heavily, the town was seemingly deserted at 18:20. I took off the jewelry and wiped the make-up off my face while still in the car.
        It was good schooling, though. I have another one of these in Friday, though mayhap it will be more than a few minutes, since we already had to do some elaborate mock-ups and suchlike via email. I’ve no idea if there will be fifty applicants for that one or two. I feel like Karen and Ivy in Smash, both being good at what they do and neither being right.