Moonlit interviews (and the stress that comes with it)

I had a job interview tonight.

Yes, that’s right, tonight. As in 8pm Eastern Daylight Time. As in 8pm normal-people-are-getting-ready-for-bed time. Yes, I also said “what the fucking hell?”

The job is an office assistant position in a theatre/studio venue. Basically they help people find spaces for their performances. It’s in the perfect area too–the Theatre District in Manhattan. If you’ve been an avid reader, this is excellent–I’d be exposed and surrounded by theatrics. Yes! I got the message yesterday to come in tonight, so it was an impromptu interview so to speak. I hate those. Today was worse.

I went with my nephew to go job searching since he and my other nephew are going to college in New York in the fall. One got work-study, and the other didn’t. Not sure how that one worked. But anyway, we went to the hospital, and I was going to apply over there as well. First, it took us forever to find HR. My dad gave us a ride over to where it probably was a million years ago, but it left us on a wild goose chase. It took us about 20 minutes just to find it, then when we got there, they just told us to come back next time with our resumes. It’s easier to just fax it over instead of going through all that again, so when we got back home, my nephew faxed his over. I had to get dressed for the moonlit interview.

The slacks weren’t a problem.

It was the fact that I have ample boobage, and button-downs isn’t my friend. I had one shirt which fits, other than the little problem I mentioned. But I was confident that I can bypass it. It just wasn’t working. So on to plan B.

My nephew was using the iron, so I asked him if he can iron another shirt out for me. He did it, but was very careful because the material is easy to burn. All of the sudden, he squirted water all over the shirt. Yeah, yeah, it’s only water. Except it was brown. At this point, I was thanking my lucky stars that the shirt was pink and not white. But still, I had the fear that it would show. Luckily, I found a pair of shoes that weren’t complete torture on my feet…until I was walking home and my ankle started acting up. Wearing heels is something I should not do apparently.

But the interview was very short. I wasn’t in there for more than 5 minutes. He said he’ll be making calls sometime next week. I would love to get that position–the location’s rare! But I’m also desensitized by rejection from jobs now. Discouragement turned “pfft to them!” It’s pretty scary.

But then again, I’m desensitized by other things too. That part goes into my friends-only Livejournal.