UnpleasantlySexy

Armor in place, sword in hand, and face painted with various stripes and dots, the job hunt goes well.

Though unsuccessful so far, I have been diligent, and there are many potential thingies floating about out there that all point to my imminent full-time employment, so no worries.

One of the big potentials is a job as a meter-reader for the City of Austin. While that may sound remarkably non-glamorous, hear me out: it pays at least 15 bucks an hour, it's outside, I'll get a workout, it has excellent benefits, and if were to stay employed by the city for the next 20 years, it pays full retirement at that time. So wipe away your smirks of pity for this lowly meter-reader and bask in the glorious possibilities afoot! Or not, 'cause I ain't got it yet. Bask or don't - your call.

There's also a chance that I could get hired on as an editor for a local textbook company, which would be just amazing, but it's up in the air whether or not I have mastered the grammatical and word-processical wizardry such a position requires. I think, based on this blog and other writings (the likes of which no man has seen), that I have all the editorial talents. Yes, all of them. I dunno. Maybe I'd have a better chance if I didn't create words like "word-processical". Bah!

I went to an "interview" this morning at a staffing agency, and I can honestly say that, out of the 30 or 40 job interviews I've been through in my life (some of which you folks can read about right here in this little ol' blog), this one was the utmost, absolutely anti-climactic of them all. I walked in, dressed nice - tie and all, and a little dude named Javier walked up to me and said, "I'm Javier. Here." He then handed me a sheet of paper that asked for my name and social security number, and a little cup for me to pee in.

I said, "I thought pee-tests were supposed to happen in a clinic." He said, "Are you refusing the pee-test?" So I said, "Actually, this doesn't feel right, and I'd like to withdraw my application entirely, please." He said, "I can't do that. And if you don't take the pee-test, we can never hire you in the future." I said, "Fine, I'll take the pee test."

He led me to the next room, which was his assistant's office, and said I could do the pee-test in there. Not a bathroom, but just a regular room. Weird. So he closed the door, and I peed in a cup in an empty office, right next to his assistant's desk. He knocked on the door, came in, took the pee-filled capsule from me, and said, "That's all we need. Have a good day."

Needless to say, I'm confused and a tad bit pissed off about that, because they told me that I was coming in for an interview, not a pee-in-a-cup session. And now, I wouldn't be surprised in the slightest if a truck full of migrant workers pulls up in front of the house to pick me up on Thursday morning for my new job as a "Lawn Technician". Or perhaps I've been drafted. I really don't know.

I assume that whoever does get my little tub of pee is NOT going to call me to say, "We've examined your pee, and congratulations! You're now the CEO of Gobs-O-Cash Industries." Or, "We've examined your pee, and congratulations! You're an astronaut." Or, We've examined your pee, and congratulations! You are now Emperor of the Western Plains, and we shall now take you to your piles of gold, spiced meats and concubines."

More than likely, I'll get the call that says, "We've examined your pee, and congratulations! You've reintroduced a viral strain of leprosy to the northern hemisphere. You will now be put into cryogenic deep-freeze for scientific study."


Oh well - it's a job, right?


By the way, in addition to this blog post, I have fully updated my profile today. So, please...by all means, browse.




I canna defy the laws of physics, Captain!




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