Thursday, August 29, 2013
No Job For You
Why didn't they like me? Why? WHY?
Was it my Dr. Seuss criminal record on the background check? Was it because I'm old and fat and they wanted yet another Big-Boobied Tartlet at their orifice cooler? (It's a bird. Look it up.) Because, really, are there ever enough young women in tight blouses and camel-toe pants working at car dealerships?
It's not like I don't have social media experience. (Right?) It's not like I don't have 30 years under my belt as a writer and a photographer. It's not like I couldn't give them the most awesome website they'd ever seen, complete with a funny, fabulous Facebook page that people WANT to interact with. It's not like I couldn't do the fecking JOB in my fecking SLEEP.
Maybe it's because I like to say feck so much? Well feck, I wouldn't say feck on their Facebook page ... OK, so maybe just once or twice...
I didn't actually think they would reject me. I honestly thought they would offer me the job and then I would negotiate a higher wage because, frankly, I'm worth twice what they were offering and I live in a fecking dream world. And then, when they refused to offer me more moolah, I would tell them to stick their job in their pipe and smoke it.
I just didn't imagine them not offering me the job. How big-headed and stupid is that?
I know I should act like a grown-up but I really feel sorry for myself right now. I may have to spend the rest of the day blowing my nose and yelling at the cats.