I can see already –
By the way your upper teeth are biting your lower lip,
By the way your head sways slightly side to side, saying “No.”
By the condescending hint-of-a-tone your voice just took on,
By the nose wrinkle when I told you how old I was
(even though you weren’t supposed to ask)
That the rest of this interview will be nothing more than a formality.
And yeah, I’ll fax those phone numbers, my resume, my letter of recommendation written by someone who thought I was a great employee, I’ll fax all those right over.
Formality on my part? No. Hope, on the brink of desperation.
I don’t think my interview went well. It was at a very prestigious cosmetic dentistry office in Manhattan. Like Regis’s smile? I just interviewed with his dentist.
Every other part of the trip in and out of Manhattan was a great day to be in the City. The weather was gorgeous, and I got to pat rich New York dogs. Even the train rides were nice.
I got on the train and noticed I forgot the headphones to my iPod; fortunately a bunch of dumb jocks en route to the Yankees game were sitting all around me, pre-gaming with Coors Light and being loud and obnoxious. They had originally gotten on the car behind me, and I was disappointed, as I figured they’d be an excellent source of blog material. When they walked through to my car and sat down, surrounding me with their beer-breathed, muscle-bound idiocy, I was excited. Morons to write about! (Is it weird that I wake up most mornings hoping something will go wrong, or be annoying, or be a bit of a hassle, just so I can blog about it? Well, whatever.) They used the “F” word a lot, which bugged me because there were little kids around. And they taught me a new word “Jingle-Jangle”. As in “yo dude! that New Jeep costs a lot of Jingle-Jangle!” or “Hey, I think it would be super-fucking awesome if I hit the Power Ball last night! MAJOR Jingle-Jangle! Then I’d rent one of those stretch Hummers and we’d roll up into the stadium like fucking ROCK STARS, man!”
Meanwhile, I’m still interviewing. And, a woo-hoo for the day: I have a nice tax refund coming; $778. I filed over the telephone. “Press 2” the voice said, “to hear the amount of your refund again.” I pressed 2 more times than I needed to, with the phone on speaker. $778.
That’s a nice chunk of Jingle-Jangle.