Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Episode #517

I've long held a theory that the last ten years of my life are all secretly part of a hidden camera type show, and that many of the people I encounter in my existence are actually hired actors. I imagine that there is a group of producers sitting around brainstorming up new situations to throw me into, and without me knowing it, millions of people sit in their living rooms every Thursday night and watch brand new episodes of "When Will This Guy Snap?".

Well, the producers are really putting on one hell of a show this week.

I had a job interview today. I have another one tomorrow which I am far more enthusiastic about, but I figured I'd go feel this one out just in case. Who knows what will happen, right?

Big mistake.

As soon as I pulled in the parking lot, I got a bad feeling. The joint looked bad. It's located in a pretty affluent area, so this wasn't what I was expecting. This place looked like it should be serving diner food in between a prison and an industrial park. But I convinced myself to give it a chance, and cautiously entered.

My feelings continued to spiral downward as I glanced around the interior. Torn up carpet. Filth. Tables shimmed with cardboard. Sad, broken waitresses milling around as if they had received lobotomies. Waitresses that I suspect were once successful and happy, but had come here, like wounded animals, to die. The decor was just depressing. It appeared as if someone had scavenged the remains of a sports bar which had burned down in 1984 for things to hang on the walls. There was a toy stuffed monkey, smoke-stained yellow, sitting on the bar. I was puzzled.

The hostess approached me and inquired, in monotone, if I would like a table. I replied that I had come for an interview, and told her the name of the man I was to meet with. "Hold on" she replied blandly, as she smacked a menu down on the hostess stand and shuffled away.

I stood, attempting to look calm and happy, and waited. Minutes passed by. My desire to break into tears and/or laughter was hard to deal with.

I was turned around, looking at grimy pictures of some long extinct softball team on the wall when I was startled by a sharp, loud, bark of "Hello" from halfway across the dining room floor. I turned to see a 5'2" Asian man walking briskly toward me. His face looked angry and somehow demented. I estimated his age to be somewhere between 50 and 200.

The following is an exact description of the conversation which followed. I will abbreviate his name as "AA", for "Angry Asian".

AA- (From 15 feet away, pointing at a booth) "Sit!"
ME- (Walking toward him with my hand extended) "Hello, I'm M...."
AA- "Sit!"
ME-"Uh, OK. Alright." I sat down.
AA- "You want kitchen job?"
ME- "Well, yes I'm here to inquire..."
AA- "You go to school?"
ME- "Yes sir I have. I graduated from..."
AA- "You cook before?"
ME- (I'm now tiring of being cut-off and interrupted in this manner) "Yes sir, I most recently worked..."
AA- "You want job?"
ME- "Well, perhaps, You see I have a few options to explore, and I..."
AA- "I give you (x) dollars an hour, you start tomorrow!"
ME- "Well sir, I actually have another interview tomorrow, and to be honest, I'm asking for a bit more than..."
AA- "You start tomorrow!"
ME- "Well, again sir, I have another interview tomorrow, so that won't be possible. Plus, I..."
AA- "I don't play games!!!"
ME- "What? I... You don't understand sir... You see I..."
AA- "Stand up! I show you kitchen."
ME- (Sighing, contemplating just running away) "Alright. Let's see the kitchen."

We stood and walked to the kitchen. Inside were two tired looking Latinos. The kitchen had clearly not yet been cleaned following a lunch rush which I'm guessing occurred sometime during the administration of Jimmy Carter. It was small, poorly lit, and totally in shambles.

"Hello" I said to one of the workers, "How are you?" As we shook hands he said "Como esta?" I nodded slightly, and turned to the other. "Como esta?" I inquired, and he looked at me very sadly and replied "Asi, asi" (so-so). "Si". I said. They both turned away. You could taste their depression in the air.

AA- "You work here! Tomorrow!"
ME- "Well sir, as I've explained, I'm asking for significantly more than (x) an hour, and being as I have another interview, I'll have to..."
AA- "I don't play games!"
ME- "Thank you for your time sir. I'll have to call you in a few days." I turned and broke for the door.
AA- "You want job or not!?"
ME- (Over my shoulder, still walking quickly, nearing the door) "I'll be in touch with you in a few days sir, and again, thank you!"

I could hear other orders being yelled at me as the door closed behind me. I got in my car and exited the parking lot at a dangerous clip. I immediately lit a cigarette, inhaling deeply and trying to wrap my head around what had just occurred. Five minutes later, as I navigated through highway traffic at 80 miles per hour, I burst into laughter. Just then my phone rang. I didn't recognize the number, but I answered it.

AA- "Matt! It's (name of AA)! I thought about it, I give you (x).50 an hour. You start tomorrow!"
MT- (Stunned once more) "Uh sir, I'll have to get back to you later"

I hung up the phone. Then I turned it off.

Have fun watching this weeks episode everyone. I hope you're all entertained...

2 comments:

  1. OMG...that was too funny!!!!!! You made my day from hell so much better. I laughed out loud when I read your line..."The kitchen had clearly not yet been cleaned following a lunch rush which I'm guessing occurred sometime during the administration of Jimmy Carter."
    Matt, I know you love cooking, but a job in journalism looks much more promising!!!! Good luck on your interview tomorrow, I can't wait to hear about it : )

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  2. It's sort of depressing to think there are worse places to work than at the one you don't like. Ugh.

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