tough times!

My husband has been insisting that I get a J-O-B for about 4 years now. I've only recently felt the need for a J-O-B since my television show was picked up (it costs money to look this good). So, I humored the old boy and finally decided to throw him a bone. Plus, the holidays are upon us...it just made sense.

So, I applied to do floor moves at Bath & Body Works. To clarify, 'floor moves' does not involve clear heels or a stripper pole. It entails me going into BBW on Sunday evenings (when the store is closed, hence NO CUSTOMERS) to tear down the current floor displays, following a diagram and putting up a new one. What? Organizing something, UNinterrupted AND getting PAID for it? You're shitting me? Where do I sign up?

So, they called me in for an interview yesterday. An interview? Um, have I mentioned that I was the Shop Director at a BBW right after I graduated from college? This is not meant to impress you, this is just pertinent to the story. But, I smugly agree to the 'interview' anyway. I'll play along, I think to myself.

So, I arrive and apparently they've decided to do group interviews---so I'm sitting on a metal folding chair with 3 other applicants. 1 teenage mother and two older women. The manager greets us and apologizes for her bad breath. We all agree that it's not as offensive as she insists it is. She starts by asking a series of predetermined questions.

Question #1. If you were to receive shipment (long, dramatic pause) which item would you put out on the floor first?

No one answers. I sheepishly raise my hand, although I'm secretly nervous that I'll look like a brown noser. I answer, "Um, I'm just spit balling here, but I'd probably put out the item that we needed the most, first". She nods slowly at me, touches her nose, then points at me. I understand that I've answered correctly. Then, I get up on my hind legs and go for the jugular. I add, "I'd prioritize". The old gal next to me jumps on board, "PRIORITIZE, I was just about to say PRIORITIZE". I rolled my eyes.

Next Question: Have any of you had a job where you've either had to organize something? Again, no one answers. I throw caution to the wind and offer up that I've, in fact, been a manager at BBW, about 14 years ago. "OOoohh, that's riiiiiight" she says. She starts asking questions like, "Do you remember so & so?" and "what was the most popular scent back then"? So, for a few minutes, I regaled them with tales of BBW back in the day. I could totally tell that everyone else was jealous of my experiences and worldliness.

Question number 3: What was your most rewarding job. I decide that I am NOT going to raise my hand for this one. Let someone else step up to the plate. Teenage mother says that being a stay at home mother has been her most rewarding job. More than Dairy Queen, I wonder. Finally I got a silly hair up my ass. I looked directly at the manager, crossed both my eyes and in my silly voice I said, "Being the shop director at BBW was my most rewarding job". She said, "really"? and I said, "no". OK, I was obviously being completely sarcastic and I was hoping for a few chuckles, but not a one. All you heard was crickets. Embarrassment ensued!

Finally: She goes thru our applications and reminds this person to sign here, and that person forgot her social security number, Leslie--yours was perfect.....(I nodded to the rest of the applicants, letting them know that I am superior to them). Oh, Suzy, (her name wasn't suzy) you forgot to include some references. Suzy starts to panic a bit. "oh, well...I haven't worked in 6 years" That's ok, suzy...we just need references in case we're ever audited. It can just be a company you used to work for. "well, I...I haven't been in touch with anyone for years, I'd feel strange asking for a reference". Suzy, they can't say good, bad or otherwise, all they can do is tell us that you worked there. "I'd be hard pressed to come up with some names".

At this point, we're all starring at this freak who insists on being difficult. Manager: Suzy, could you list a friend or neighbor. "No, we don't live in a neighborhood. Could I ask my mother"? Manager: No. Frankly, I'm surprised she didn't put her houseplant down. Instead of just saying, I'll get back to you with some references, she made this big production of out not having any. It's not that difficult. I could rattle off 20 without batting an eyelash. She's freakier than we thought. So, we all start offering to help. We're all, "Your kids' teachers??? Your veterinarian???? Your hairdresser????" And she's all, "I home school my kids!!! I don't have any pets!!!! I cut my own hair with kitchen shears!!!!!" It was getting ridiculous and I teetered between feeling sorry for her and blogging about her. Clearly, I made the better choice.

Anyhoot. I have no idea if I got the job. I'm over here waiting with baited breath to find out. It was grueling, but I think I nailed it! Of course, my sarcasm may not have been well received and I may have blown it. Either way, I don't really care. At least I interviewed. That should keep Jason happy for a while. Until he gets the AMEX bill.....

LB (which I've just recently discovered is not only my initials, but also the abbreviation for pounds. Fitting!)