can you type?



so, i guess you found out that this whole taking a break from blogging thing was bullshit, yeah? and all that about my eyes getting blurry and needing to stop was just crap. well, the truth is, my eyes are getting worse, but i'll go blind before i stop. i actually have to go out of my way, restrain myself, when an entry doesn't pop up the next day. the fact is, i have nothing and everything to talk about, and putting my fingers on the keyboard feels more natural to me than walking.

i interviewed for an admin position downtown yesterday. the man who interviewed me, steve, is a senior policy analyst, and he has appeared on cnn and cspan. i thought he was going to be intimidating, and really in-your-face, but he was casual, and he didn't even really have questions prepared. at one point, he obviously had nothing to ask, so he said, "what's your favorite band right now?" i told him "sigur ros, have you heard of them?" he shook his head, and said, "what are they like?" i told him they had a made-up language, and sometimes they sang in icelandic. he seemed intrigued. "what else do you like," he said, "something i might know?" "umm, have you heard of explosions in the sky," i asked? he shook his head again, smiling. "no, it's gotta be something more top forty," he said. i mentally scanned the last time i checked the billboard in the paper. all that came up were rhianna, beyonce (i actually thought about saying beyonce, but i didn't), james blunt. i couldn't come up with anything. i just sat there and thought about a mainstream band i actually don't mind listening to, but i couldn't. finally, he said, "do you like tom waits?" "yeah, i like tom waits," i said.

the fact of the matter is, i had no idea what i was interviewing for. i don't like to talk much, either, especially at interviews, and i'd prefer it if the other person talked more. i know this is a bad thing, and doesn't help me in the hiring process, but the truth is, i really don't have questions for you or your staff or your company. i really don't care what you do, who you are, or how you do it. the only two questions i come to every job interview with are, how much does it pay, and, if the price is right, can i have the goddamn job?

steve made me take some typing test. but before he i did it, he lost about 1,000,000 points when he sat me down and asked me, "can you type?" it was one of those questions that brought back feelings of americorps and incompetence. those condescending questions that aren't meant to be condescending, asked in such a candid, nonchalant way. "can you type?" no, actually, i can't. i spent four years in college as a creative writing major sticking my finger up my ass and sniffing it. can i type.

then he made me do some other assignment, which i did, half-heartedly, and i left.

on the way home, i got on the wrong RT. i kind of knew it was the wrong one, but i didn't care. i felt like wandering the streets and listening to cat power for a while. i also thought it might make a good metaphor. taking the wrong train, getting off track, getting lost and having to find my way back. wanting to say i have no direction home. i took the meadowview RT and got dropped off at broadway. i had to walk back a few blocks to catch the right RT, the folsom RT, and stood the whole time, since the train was packed (sidenote: i thought about not sharing this information, since you should probably be thinking by now, how dumb is this guy, there are only three RT's you can take, but i feel it's essential to the story - well, probably not really, but whatever). by the way, does anyone ever actually have to pay to ride the RT? i've ridden four times now, and no one has ever checked for my ticket.

on the RT i stood next to a group of black teens. none of them seemed to be friends, but one of them was talking out loud like he knew all of them really well. he talked like my friend joseph. you know, that kind of incoherent buzzing with a lot of inserted "motherfuckers" and a "shiiiiit" here and there. when an older white woman got on the train, this black kid started freestyling. i think he did it to intimidate or annoy her, or maybe both. the woman didn't seem that uncomfortable, though. typical sacramento, she probably thought.

later, i had to ask the rich bitch, "why do people talk so ghetto (sidenote: i know this isn't the proper, PC term to use, but i can't come up with a better word)?" "what do you mean?" he asked. "you know," i said, "kind of like the way joseph talks. like, 'mow-fucka had a wave cap on, that foo's helladumb." rich bitch saw this as an opportunity to mock it, too: "shit, foo, we all be hangin' out, and you know, we is gonna get our drank on." i think people have to go out of their way to sound like this. maybe they try lines out on their friends. i'm really not sure how it works.

you feel me?

No comments: