My weekend was a little… rough.
I worked at the car show and picked up three things: 1 – a cold, 2 – a reminder of why I hate customer service, and 3 – a desire for silicone implants.
Stop looking at me like that. Let me explain.
First, I picked up a nasty bug from a fellow employee. Now I have to cough, sneeze, and hack through all my interviews… oh wait. I don’t have any. Whatever. I still hate being sick.
Second, I was chewed out by a 70 year old salesman who told me, ‘You know nothing about life. You know nothing about supporting a family. You are a stupid kid’ because his customer didn’t buy a car and he felt I was responsible somehow. I wasn’t and couldn’t have possibly been.
But, umm, I’m not going to lie. The fact that he grouped me with the cute 20 something’s I was working with was flattering… so I let him run his garbage mouth for 10 uninterrupted minutes.
Third, after 2 hours of working with 3 gorgeous girls who I had at least 5 years and 5 pant sizes on, I was moved to work in a section behind a giant fichus.
Let’s not wonder why I am now holding 5 pamphlets from doctors who suck… heh heh, literally… and also install ‘plastic’.
I’m STILL looking for a job.
It’s funny how my job hunting views have changed…
Week One: Applied only at jobs I would be excited to have
Week Two: Applied only at jobs I would like to have
Week Three: Applied at jobs I could stand
Week Four: Applied at any job including circus elephant pooper scooper and *worse* customer service
I dropped off an application for another job. I carefully typed the application rather than handwriting it and dropped it off at the office this morning. The lady behind the desk stared at it then up at me, ‘How did you do this?’
‘I typed it. I wanted to make sure it was legible and easy to read.’ I replied.
She stared at me.
I smiled… and hoped the stare was admiration.
As I was walking out, I passed a kind mentally challenged man who was *ahem* applying for the job.
I am stooping to a new low… stealing jobs from the developmentally disabled.
What?!? Hey now. Desperate times call for desperate measures.
In better news, the ‘big box’ store hired me for nights and weekends.
I start Friday.
I hate being the new girl. Maybe I can dazzle my new co-workers with my wit and charm…
Or I can just use old reliable and…
Pay people to befriend me.