Tuesday, June 6

I am in a sour-puss mood today. It started in the middle of a job interview this morning, for a receptionist position with a prestigious downtown car dealership. First the interviewer—the sales manager, no less—kept asking me repetitive asinine questions which had nothing to do with my skills or work experience.

”Are you working right now?” “So how long does it take you to get down here?” “Are you currently employed somewhere?” “Which route would you take to get here?” “Would you drive or take public transit?”

Then he outlined the job requirements, which he had already done on the phone yesterday morning. (Side note: I am always suspicious of any job which calls for an interview and seems ready to hire in the same breath.) And just when I thought it was all over, his assistant came in and they proceeded to repeat the entire interview procedure.

This second round of outlining the job requirements was, however, where I reached my breaking point. Because it came with special emphasis on just HOW EASY the job was.

First they asked, despite it being outlined on both my resume and cover letter, how much experience I had with computers. This was asked with a delicate tone, to indicate it would be okay if I wasn’t technologically savvy. Then they continued to outline the other easy parts of the job: “Don’t worry, it’s slow in here most evenings, it’s really easy.” “You have to do some inventory, but don’t worry, it’s really easy.” “You have to answer the phones, but not that much, so don’t worry.”

At the end of the interview they wanted to know when I could start. I wanted to tell them to fuck off, but instead politely shook their hands and said I would speak to them later in the week.

It’s not like I had great hopes for this interview or the position, but I can’t help but feel greatly undervalued right now. I understand that the job market is currently swamped with graduates, and yes, I do have two other well-paying part-time jobs so I can’t really complain, BUT: aaaaaaaaaaauuuuuuuuughhhhh!

My future has turned on me. I feel like I have asked it, “Where shall I go? What shall I do?” and the only reply I can get is “Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn.”