My first 72 hours in the city …
I had an interview for an administrative assistant job at 10:30 am on my first day here. Basically, that’s fancy talk for a receptionist who gets paid like a receptionist but has to do more work. Whatever, it’s a grown-up job for once. I was so nervous I didn’t fall asleep until 3:30 am and woke myself up at 6:30am. So I decided to take Ducky for a walk around the neighborhood and quickly realized there is no grass for her to poop on. Not that she would in front of all these people anyway, and hey who am I to judge considering I can’t even poop with the door open so imagine trying to shit with 200 people around. Afterwards we get home and I glam up for this interview. I manage to take the subway the right way and get there 45 min early. I decided to have a bagel and the cream cheese got all over my dress. My luck it won’t come out (pun not intended). I show up to this way to0 fancy building on 5th avenue and realize I’m going to have to lie my ass off for any of these people to think I am of this caliber.
I mean really the longest I ever stayed at a job was six months and even I was surprised by that. So, I walk into this fancy office and tell this old lady behind the desk I’m here for a job interview. As if I’m not nervous enough she says, “Well honey where is your jacket. The dress is cute, but it looks like your going to a party not a job interview”. To which I reply, “ma’am don’t tell me that I’m already nervous enough”. She says, “Well stand back and let me look at ya. See the shoes”. I stand back and she looks me up and down. “That’ll do, you still look nice, but next time were a jacket, it’s more professional”. “Thanks” is what I said but I won’t tell you what I thought. (I know she was just trying to be helpful, but still I can already taste the bagel coming up). I go up to the 14th floor and this office is insane. Imagine the google office in that Owen Wilson movie. I mean everyone is attractive and in Gucci suits and I’m wearing my 14-year-old little sisters spring formal dress. Way over my head. Plus, the guy interviewing me is super-hot so it’s really hard to concentrate on top of my nerves already. Anyways, I don’t remember much of the interview, but I’ll know by next Friday. So, I go home and take a nap.
When I wake up ducky and I walk the neighborhood with my taser in hand. Yes, I’m that person but ya gotta keep a strap on ya. I quickly find out there are two homeless men who sleep on the street next to our apt. One lady passes by me and says, “be careful of those two. Apparently, that’s their bed now”, she scoffs. As long as they don’t talk to me, I won’t bother them. (holds taser tighter). I take ducky home and get some rest.
The next day I walked around again passing out my pitiful server resume. I have never in my life had to make a resume to be a waitress, but that’s a thing here. Anyways I quickly realized the closer you are to downtown the nicer the neighborhoods. Sadly, I realized this by going further the wrong way. But let me tell you, I have never before felt so much like a Victoria Secret model as I did walking through Bed Stuy. One man seriously stopped New York traffic to ask to take me out. Shaking my head, he said, “Can I be yo friend”. (I keep walking). “What about uber driver”, he asks. (that’s honestly a new one). After passing around my little resume I got a call back for today, Thursday. Spoiler alert, I got the job. I also got another interview for a grown-up job in Long Island tomorrow at 3pm. Something about marketing that I’m gonna bull shit my way through. Let’s hope for the best.
I’ve had coffee and doughnuts but nothing that’s authentic New York yet like hot dogs or pizza, but I think I’m going to have dinner in the city. I’m going there shorty to thrift shop for professional clothes. I have half a mind to go back to that office to stunt on that lady with a new blazer, but in all seriousness maybe I’ll bring her some doughnuts because she really was just trying to be helpful. It’s hot here and they don’t believe in air conditioning. Also 45 dollars’ worth of groceries cost $66 here and I was pressured by some Indian man to buy a $65 dog bag for Ducky that I could have got off amazon for $30. But I’m alive and adjusting and I’ll let ya’ll know how it goes.
Dixie In The City 