ALRIGHT MAGGOTS! I HAVE GRACED YOU WITH THIS HORSESHIT!
ps "talking" 'thinking'
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IT HELL: The interview
SO I go into the company that is looking for its legal slaves… I mean employees… yes, employees. I arrive after a 15 minute drive and a minor annoyance later. I look up at this massive daunting glass building. Most of the shutters are down showing the dreary atmosphere. That or the occupants are looking at porn or procrastinating. ‘HAH’, I think as I enter the building with a slight smirk on my face. ‘How bad could it be?’
I go up to the receptionist. I have this thing about maintaining eye contact with people, ESPECIALLY women because of a trauma I suffered in my childhood dealing with women and eye contact. So the only thing I can describe about this receptionist are: she had brown, almost almond-brown, eyes with slight specks of dark brown. Her face was framed by red hair, she had thin eyebrows, a dainty little nose, and thin lips. Like most red heads her nose and the skin bordering it were sprinkled with freckles. She smiled at me as I approached. No, it was only a professional one not a smile you show to your friends or one for family. I am not going to lie, I did fancy her, but I am eighteen and she is probably not into younger guys.
I sigh internally, and finish my approach to the desk. I greet her with a smile and state “Hello, I am here for the job offer.”
She looks over a few things on a monitor below the counter, or some sort of electronic device because I could see it’s reflection in her eyes. After a few moments she replies “Sorry for the wait, the interview room is located on the 8th floor, room 808.”
I thank her and leave. As you probably won’t believe I am a social person, but it takes me a while for me to warm up to a group of people. Anyways, I make my way to the elevator. Press the up button and wait until I hear a ding. After a few minutes I hear the que to get in the elevator. Luckily it is empty as a few people enter behind me. I press button 8 and go to a corner. After the four other people get their destinations punched in the door closes and our ascension begins. I am the third to get off. I leave the elevator and turn left. Two doors down is room 808. It seems I am not the only applicant. Not that I care what the other people are there for, I just need a job. If I don’t have a job I will be left homeless because I couldn’t pay taxes and if I take a loan, if they even let me, and I can’t pay the bank back, I lose the house either to the bank or to the government.
Eventually I am called up. I enter the room dressed in my slacks, dress shirt, and my father’s tie. When I enter this room, the smell of pure, unadulterated, sorrow assaults my nose. Apparently someone or some people didn’t get the job. Hell, I don’t even know what job I’m applying for. Hey, desperate times, desperate measures. Anyway, there are three people. Stuck-up glasses bitch (SGB), Tubby, and Pencil.
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SGB is a woman in her forties, probably late forties. She seems to have a constant scowl on her face along with her greying brown hair that was tied up in a bun of some kind. She had a pair of thin glasses on and wore one of those black suit-dress hybrids. Tubby who shall on occasion or whenever I feel like shall call Fatso, looked like someone half-melted frosty the snowman… minus the top hat and the carrot nose. He had black hair and eyes. Honestly, the inner demons are screaming at me to see if he would bounce or roll down the stairs… too bad I can’t listen to them… NEXT! PENCIL! Much like the nickname I gave him, he looked like someone who hated meat with a passion… I loved meat. I could have meat for three meals a day for the rest of my life and still love meat. Back on topic. He is a blonde with brown eyes. Now the reason their heights aren’t included is because they are sitting down. The two dudes had similar attire that I had but I refused to note any details further about their attire.
Anyways, I take my seat. I lack a table while they share a single wooden desk. The desk shrieks ‘OPPRESSION’ and I am not very intimidated. I have a careless look on my face, bordering the ‘I don’t care look.’ Hey, even if I need a job doesn’t mean that my personality can be shoved to the side. The SGB speaks first.
SGB: ”What do you want to see in our company?”
Me: “A Job.”
SGB: “And why do you think you will get one?”
Me: “I don’t.”
SGB: “You don’t what?”
Me: “I don’t think I will get a job here.”
SGB: “And why is that?”
Me: “Probably due to the fact that all the others that left either had mascara running down their faces or a look of disappointment. There is no point in emotionally investing in something that is similar to winning a lottery, albeit a rigged one.”
Pencil: “Why is it similar to a rigged lottery?”
Me: “Well, the job is the award, and we are the participants, now if one of the participants has the skills and/ or qualities you are looking for, the lottery is skew in their favor. However, there may be someone with more experience in the sort of work you want them to be doing so they COULD have a better chance. But even then you still select the winner and not some chance that an applicant has a similar or exact match to the numbers.”
Tubby yawns and asks me: “Are you tech savvy?”
The other two look at him like he is the most retarded creature on the face of the earth.
Me: “Yes, why?”
Tubby: “YOUR HIRED!”
Me: “Wha-”
Pencil face palms and SGB says: “But boss-”
Tubby: “You’re our new IT guy! Congratulations!”
Fuck...
Thus begins my tales of IT HELL!!!