Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Interview

Yesterday I saw a hipster wearing a checked shirt and drinking from a juice box and it made me sad. Also making me sad is how long I have been spelling "wiener" wrong for. Sorry, guys. Guess that makes me Wiener of the Week. (It still looks wrong.)

I just had a job interview for an internal role which would be heaps of fun but which, realistically, I am seriously under qualified for. I love job interviews, especially the part where they ask things like, "How do you deal with irate customers?" and you say, "I acknowledge their right to be angry, reassure them that we will find a solution, then work with my colleagues and manager to sort things out as quickly as possible," and not, "I smile through my teeth, take their shit, then hang up and shout, "FUCKING WANKER WHOSE FUCKING FAULT IS THIS AND WHY AM I DEALING WITH IT YOU ARE ALL A BUNCH OF RETARDS I AM GOING TO GO AND HAVE A CIGARETTE.""

Also in interviews I tend to be a bit too honest - they say things like, "How does it affect you when a colleague's mistake creates extra work for you?" and while I know I am meant to say, "I am mildly annoyed, but I realise that people are only human, and mistakes happen" I tend to say, "It's fine if it's a human error but if I can't do my job properly because someone else is lazy or can't be bothered it really fucks me off" and then not only do I sound like a psycho but I just said fuck and now the interview is over. (I have actually never said fuck in an interview, but I have dropped into those phrases like, 'it gets right up my nose' and 'I find that very difficult to accept' which are pretty much corporate speak for fuck anyway.)

Headline of the day from stuff.com - Player fights with fan, ballboy wets his pants. The two events were unrelated. Said an official, "The ball kid peed on himself. It was unfortunate."

The woman who sits next to me is taking an ad for the Found column. It reads like this: "Found in Christchurch Central. Wheelchair." I really want to know the story behind this one. Was there some kind of a miracle?

11 comments:

omchelsea said...

Alien abduction. I'm so glad I'm self-employed.

Joff said...

Spontaneous combustion?

Tarryn said...

LOL. you don't have to be wiener of the week- it was human error, and i don't think it really stopped anyone from doing their job properly... Except for the girl who brought it up, who was probably rocking back and forth slightly and screaming "WIENER! WIENER!GODDAMMIT!" At her computer screen. She probably looked way crazy.

IT IS ALLY said...

Chelsea, Joff - both good theories. I am also partial to the theory that the wheelchair had a hidden eject button built by a disgruntled wheechair factory employee, and that this was accidentally activated when the wheelchair's occupant (wheelchairee?) went for their wallet or something

Tarryn - she probably did (ps she's two posts above you, I am not getting involved should you want to do an in-blog cage fight (that's a lie, I totally am, who wants to place a bet?)).

But if it had been any other word - say, for example, "duchebag" of the week - I would have been a sneering bag o' bile...perhaps I stopped myself doing my job properly! How meta.

Pfft, this is not my job. I wish it were. Does anyone want to start paying me?

otherworldlyone said...

"FUCKING WANKER..."

All of that...exactly. I've been shouting variations of this for the last two weeks.

*uncorked said...

Love the eject button theory, but I'm going to have to believe it was a miracle setup. Proving God exists by having someone fake being handicapped and then jumping up and down screaming "God heals." I can see it. Though I'm slightly cynical.

Tarryn said...

no cage fighting necessary. I shall just passive aggressively leave snide comments after all of hers. :D

In other news, King of the Wiener's has renominated himself: On finding a girlfriend: "Do you think it’s going to take meeting someone who I admire more than I admire myself? But isn’t it also about a beautiful vagina? Aren’t we talking about a matrix of a couple of different things here? Like, you need to have them be able to go toe-to-toe with you intellectually. But don’t they also have to have a vagina you could pitch a tent on and just camp out on for, like, a weekend? Doesn’t that have to be there, too? The Joshua Tree of vaginas? …I’ll be happy when I close out this life-partner thing. Think of how much mental capacity I’m using to meet the right person so I can stop giving a fuck about it."

John Mayer. I have no words. I would prefer that you never meet this alleged life-partner. If you do, I hope that either you or she (preferable both, just to be safe) are sterile, so that no matter how long you camp out on her vagina WTF???!?!?! We don't have to put up with another generation of Wiener.

IT IS ALLY said...

"Do you think it’s going to take meeting someone who I admire more than I admire myself?" - Oh, John Mayer. Is that even possible?

Tooting Squared said...

I like the wheelchair miracle. It's, like, AMAZING!

A few weeks ago I was queuing in the supermarket behind a tiny crinkly old lady with a walking stick. When she'd paid for her shopping she wandered off and left the walking stick behind. I called after her and she looked at the stick and then down at her legs, then said, "well THAT never happened before". A mini miracle ...?

IT IS ALLY said...

Tooting2 - you were in the presence of God! Who was a confused elderly lady. Did she go back to using the stick, or dance out of the store spinning it around her head? Guess which one I would've done.

Me and Leez said...

No I think it was my friend. I know this because I went to his flat (drunk) and he was in a wheelchair. I got very emotional (drunk) and let him tell me a very sad story about his recent paraplegia for half an hour involving a puppy and a coffee table (and other things, acid? what are the chances? million to one) then forgot and stood up. I had small tears impairing my vision but still managed to tackle him into a bench for winding me up and he DID hurt his leg but didn't end up back in the wheelchair.
Turns out he had stolen it from christchurch central (by a toilet by a starbucks in a square? chtistchurch was a mystery to me pre-quake and likely is even more so now (too soon? fuckem)) and brought it down on his roof with a rope for reasons of amusement. It had a "return to hospital" sticky on. One slightly less mysterious mystery. BAM.