Tag Archives: rape-shower

i can’t believe i dyed my hair & shaved my legs for THIS…

posted by:  audra

the most preciously icky thing just happened to me:  a job interview gone totally horrible.  it went something like this…

10:27 am:  i leave the house, perfectly pressed & polished. 

10:45 am:  arrive at destination really early.  my appointment was at 11:15.  the outside of the building is nice, professional, cute…kind of stands out in the skeezy neighb.  

10:46 am:  go inside of said destination.  interior is dismal; one crappy watercolor on the wall, about 5 dingy gray chairs that have seen better days, NO magazines.   TINY room…maybe 6×8 in dimension? 

10:48 am:  greet front desk person mySELF.  she’s trashy & kind of rude.  i sit in one of said gross chairs.

10:48 am:  shortly after sitting, a woman clamors in with her two crumb-snatching crotch-maggots.  one of the chitlins isn’t doing so well.  i thought maybe he was just throwing a little hissy fit, by how the mom was petting his head asking if he was okay.  evidently he wasn’t throwing a hissy–he was going to throw up. 

10:49 am:  the mother keeps badgering the ugly, sick child and finally asks if he’s “going to puke”.   his answer:  “uh huh.” 

10:49 am:  i panic.  i have a fucking interview, you sick fucks!  you know your child has some sort of vomitty ebola virus or whatever, and you STILL take him out in public, you fucking imbecile?!  what is wrong with people?!!  if there’s ONE thing i can’t handle, it’s vomit.  it’s my absolute number one fear–being vomited ON or NEAR.  i don’t want to hear it, see it, smell it or worst of all–feel it.  i’m so freaked out at this point that i’m literally shaking, because this kid’s about to blow.  it was carpeted though, so that would reduce the chances of splatter.  i had a plan to jump up & run to the opposite corner of the room, should this actually take place in this tiny, gross lobby.  no restroom sign in sight, the mother rushes over to the front desk area to ask where the bathroom is.  pointing to a weird, unmarked, white door, the mother grabs the timebomb & takes him into the loo. 

10:50 am:  not 2 seconds later, i hear it.  everything.  every detailed, splashy, liquidy awfulness.  great.  not only is this reeeeally fucking sick, i had to pee.

10:50 am:  i move to the farthest chair away from the door to hell. 

10:53 am:  a dumpy, trashy mouse with a scrunchie comes out of another door.  she thanks two people of mystery & leaves.  immediately following her exit, i’m called into the room.

10:54 am:  i’m greeted by a short, old-ish man with a weird face.  kind of like he’s melting…somewhat like toby on the office, only browner.  not latin brown, just brown.  brown skin, brown hair, brown suit.  cheap.  there’s a woman, too…she seems nice.  conservative, but nice.  mr. brown is totally skeezed out, like total sexual-predator vibe.  gross, gross, gross. 

10:55 am:  “wow….you’re eyebrows are amazing!  that must take you a long time to do everyday!”   strike one, asshole. 

so, we do a bit of small-talk.  it’s awkward.  mr. brown seems drunk.  is he?  is it just pills?  maybe he’s really hungover.  nope, i’m pretty sure he’s intoxicated.  he’s awfully loose.  and he rubs his face an awful lot.  they ask why i’m not with my former-employers any longer, and i explain.  it appears that this is the first time he’s reviewing my resume.  he says, “oh i see you worked at some vineyards!”  well, just the one VINEYARD…but yes.  “wow, you commuted all the way out there?”  yes, of course i did.  the woman is silent.  “what did you do at your last job?”  well, since you’re looking RIGHT AT MY RESUME, i suppose i’ll save you a step & tell you.  “do you have questions for us?”

10:58ish am:  i reply with, “oh, yes i do!  um….so [the woman] told me yesterday on the phone that you’d be hiring for several different positions.  i was under the impression that there was just the one.  i want to be certain–which position am i actually interviewing for?”

yes, i really had to ask that.  this was ridiculous.  “oh, well, you’d definitely be interviewing for the front-office position.”  okay….and? 

i ask what the pay is going to be.  get this…

“that’s a good question.  i see here that you made [undisclosed amount] at your last job.  i can tell you right now that we won’t be able to pay you that much, but it won’t be any less that what we’d pay our administrative assistant.” 

and i didn’t make “that much” at my last job.  seriously.  you’d have thought i was asking them to start me at $65/hr or something.  i have to backup a bit….yesterday when i spoke with this woman to setup the interview, i asked what the wage was.  she was real  sketch about it then, too.  what is with these people?!  i should also add that they’re looking to hire IMMEDIATELY, as in now.  so, wouldn’t you think they’d have the payroll shit figured out??  they wouldn’t even give me a ballpark figure!  isn’t that weird?!  i said that i would possibly take a little bit of a pay-cut, just to have a job.  he says, “well, you’re on unemployment, right?”

“no, i’m not.”

“why not?!  man, i’ve had people just walk right out of the door on me, and straight to the unemployment office!  it’s free money!” 

really??  oh my god.  so i’m sitting in an interview with your company, and you just told me that “people” have repeatedly “walked out the door”?!  sounds like an awesome company to work for. 

i’m of course, horrified, but he asks if i have any other questions.  i had prepared a long list of really articulate questions, so i continued with my next one, “what would you say the typical career path is for someone in this position?”  thinking he’d answer with paralegal, legal assistant, something clerical, whatever…maybe going to law school…right? 

no.  he LAUGHS.  laughs!  shakes his head, rubs his brown face some more.  “wull, i dunno…i mean, you either got the skills & move on, or you don’t!” 

i mean, is this is a totally retarded question to ask an interviewer?!  i think it’s pretty valid, don’t you? 

NEXT!

“what are a few things you feel makes this position interesting & challenging?”

MORE FUCKING GIGGLES!  and face rubbing!  and an, “ohhhh….hmmm…..that’s a good question.  the clients? (laughs again) the people i work with?  yeah…the people who work here definitely keep it interesting.” 

ewwww i totally feel like i need a rape-shower!

this is when i decide not to ask any more questions, especially “how do you keep your employees happy & motivated?”  i don’t even want to know. 

11:07 am:  interview concluded.  i was barely in there for 10 minutes, and all of this ickiness happened. 

rules for potential employers:  when you interview me, be professional!  don’t you fucking dare laugh in my face, and don’t even THINK of commenting on how much time it must take me  to do my eyebrows!  inappropriate!  and don’t tell me that people have walked out on the job!  NOT COOL!  and especially, BE PREPARED & don’t look like a TOTAL FUCKING MORON!! 

i’m over today.  i need a drink.  who’s in?

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Filed under Diary

queers, five years & saturday’s mistake: part two

posted by:  audra

…because apparently, the “cash thing” is “an asshole”…at least according to the girl behind the bar.  finally, the “cash thing” spits out a receipt disguised as an error code, which prompts bar girl to call her manager, who is not on site…but maybe we can “wait around until he shows…?”  she then asks sam to write down his debit card number on a piece of paper so that they can “charge it later”.  you can imagine my frustration at this point.  instead of complying with her sketchy request, sam finds an atm & opts to get $20 out.  for 2 drinks, our tab came to $11, which is not unreasonable.  we pay with the 20, & she hands him back $12.  so, not only can she not use a modern p.o.s program properly, she can’t do basic math!  we conclude that this is alright with us considering our experience thus far & take the extra couple of bucks.  shut up!  you would totally do the same thing!  this place was sick!  not dive-bar-sick in the least…just icky.

in desperate need to take a rape-shower but nowhere to take it, we head back upstairs for our table.  lip gloss will have to suffice.  still, more waiting.  at least 20 minutes worth.  all the while listening to a frizzy-haired ‘actress’ from l.a., wearing a stretchy american apparel frump dress with cowboy boots & a denim jacket go on & on about her next role, opposite brittany murphy: do you know who she is you guys, and ohmygod, & how on both sides of my family there is a long history of suicide, isn’tthatweirdyouguys i was like whoa! really?  jesus!

okay.  things are getting better.  we’re now seated.  deep breath.  wait, where’s our server?  are they like, seriously under-staffed?  please tell me that 4 servers called in sick or something?  i realize saturday nights are busy…but they have a good reputation & should be prepared for this type of thing, wouldn’t you think?  it took at least 10 minutes just to order a glass of wine!  but thanks, baby jeebus, for having the elk cove rosé.  that was lovely to start with & was perfect with our cheese plate.  even though i can’t remember the names of any of the cheeses besides gorgonzola, triple crème & white, that was still really very nice of you.  it almost canceled out the time i asked you for a tranny for christmas & you didn’t deliver.  almost.

then something went awry, just when they were looking up.  some dick photographer decides to set up shop right.  next.  to us.   literally like 6 inches away from our table.  god, i was so pissed!  total disregard.  had he whispered a “pardon me you guys but you two are so incredibly delicious & i just want a photograph of you to masturbate to later, and this will just take a second…sorry for the disruption.” i would have been cool with it.  it was fine at first, but he just stayed there snapping pictures in my face for like 10 minutes, breathing on our four cheeses.  finally he moved & went to bother someone else, only to return moments later…

…to be continued tomorrow, my pets.

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Filed under food, potpourri

i was eye-raped today

posted by:  audra

so, i’m sitting at my desk this morning.   this guy comes in & haves himself a seat.  obese, little round wire glasses, leather jacket, pervy looking…you know the type.  anyway, so i’m trying to do some work & look busy & he keeps talking to me.  it started as small talk — how long have you worked here — that sort of yammering.  then it goes to a gross place.

“it’s really interesting, your look.  do you do that everyday?  is there a name for that?  the cleopatra look?  i really like it.  is that all your real hair?”

at least he didn’t call me goth.  and yes, he asked if i was wearing a wig.

i have bitched & bitched about this sort of thing to no end.  it’s always the same types of guys:  skeezy, sports-watching assholes who fantasize about auto-erotic asphyxiation but are too scared to do it themselves.  guys who go to hooters & slap the waitresses on the ass with their fat little sausage fingers.  they always lead with “i love your look…”  & then it typically is followed by a “so, you’re goth, right?”

it wasn’t in a patronizing manner, but i’m pretty sure he was visualizing me wielding a leather whip & thigh-high boots.  i’m not being conceited, i swear…i could just see it in him.  shudder.  so gross.

“finalized the divorce last year!  had to pay for both attorneys.”

wow.  great.

“yep, i’m single now!  so are you married with 10 kids?  oh really, no kids?  ah, a husband.  what does your husband do?  that’s interesting you’ve never wanted to have kids, a lot of young people these days are making that decision.  golly, you should charge by the hour!  look at me, just talking to you…you could make a lot of money, you have to pay for that makeup somehow!  what’s your favorite food?  you like thai?  i had the best thai tea the other day.  you know what you need in here?  strawberry smoothies!”

seriously you guys, it doesn’t sound that bad, but it was brutal.  i was totally ignoring him, half-answering his stupid questions semi-cordially, yet abruptly, with my side turned to him…nothing stopped him.  i even coughed really grossly & then offered him some water.  and he said yes!

i’m really offended that this bulbous, old, unattractive tool was hitting on me.  what made him think that i would even consider him?!  i would prefer him to take one look at me & think, now that is totally out of my league, & move on…not, let’s turn up the charm & give it a go!

fuck.

i need a rape-shower.

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Filed under potpourri