Brooklyn, revisited

I am in Brooklyn.

Again.

I am in Brooklyn at a job interview.

I am in Brooklyn at a job interview where they (3 ladies) never extended their hands in greeting towards me, nor upon my departure.

I stuck my hand out.

They looked at it.

They looked at me.

Then they looked at each other.

This was, apparently, confusing to them.

So according to this organization, interviews do not consist of proper introductions.

I might as well have given them the finger. Or tried to make out with them. All three of them. At once. And videotaped it. …….. But I digress….

I am in Brooklyn.

No wonder you’re interviewing me for a Human Resources position, because frankly, your’s sucks.

I love the fact that you gave me reference request forms that I have the lovely responsibility of getting to and from each reference. You do realize that I am taking them home and filling them all out myself. I have pens in different colors. And, conveniently, different personalities, so I am not technically lying. We’ll just list Sybill as my last supervisor. Let’s just hope she’s over that last phase she went through…..

I am in Brooklyn.

Again.

And, I decided to have some fun.

While taking a quick stroll after my interview, I yelled. In the middle of the street. In a Hasidic Jewish neighborhood. In Brooklyn. I yelled “Rock out with your cock out!”.

And no one turned around.

I find that quite unsettling. And interesting. And… erotically disturbing.

I am in Brooklyn. Again

While I didn’t get hit with a lego man this time, the ladies who conducted this 5 minute interview surely were more unprofessional than a screaming 2 year old. Seriously, my 2 year old nephew has the capability to shake hands. And fist bump. He’s a badass.

I am in Brooklyn. It cost me $4.50 to get here

And it’s raining.

I am in Brooklyn.

Again.

Fuck.

Brooklyn

I am in Brooklyn.

I am at a job interview in Brooklyn.

I am at a job interview at a school for autism in Brooklyn.

I am at a job interview at a school for autism that I thought was a Buddhist school in Brooklyn.

I am at a job interview at a school for autism that is not a Buddhist school, it is a Jewish school. In Brooklyn

I am at a job interview at a school for autism that this not only Jewish, but Hasidic Jewish.. In Brooklyn.

Now I’m not insulting any one’s religion, ethnicity, beliefs, etc here. Just to make that clear. Chill out, I mean these are good people doing good things and I completely respect that. I don’t want any hate mail now. Christ.

But what a way to conduct an interview….

First of all. Yes, have all the applicants show up at the same damn time. Nothing’s better to boost one’s confidence than to have all your competitors in the same waiting area.

Second, please, do not lead us to a private office or quiet area. Interviews can and should be conducted in a classroom. With kids present.

Third, make sure the children are screaming while the interview is going on

Fourth, make sure that you seat me in a cheap metal chair that will surely destroy my spinal cord.

Fifth, make sure the child is not only screaming, but screaming “red triangle” over and over... During the interview.

Sixth, by no means should you apologize for the noise or lack of privacy in the interview (and on a side note, an apology would excuse the situation because I do realize that space is tight at many non-profits...but the noise? really?? )

Seventh, when the phone rings, by all means answer it. No! No, don’t apologize, it’s fine. (oh wait, you didn’t apologize)

Eighth, in order to be extra professional, make sure to not give me a business card because naturally, I should already have your name and number memorized. From the website. That didn’t list it.

Ninth, when 'red triangle' gets old, make sure the classroom children (who are, by the way, 2 feet from me) just have a good old hearty tantrum.

Tenth, when said tantrum is occurring, be sure to ask me if I have people skills. Ignore when I say that I am not quite yet homicidal. Yet.

Eleventh, ask me what my strengths in the workplace are. But don’t forget that asking this question must be accompanied by tantrum + throwing toys. Nothing shows strength like containing ones composure after getting hit in the foot with a lego man.

Twelfth, again, don’t apologize for the noise or lack of professionalism. It’s totally cool. I understand that being a working woman in today’s modern world means all bets are off when it comes to common courtesy. Why don’t I just belch. You can belch too. We can make it a harmony. Like dueling banjos.

I am in Brooklyn.

I am going home.

It took me over an hour and a half to get here.

Fuck.

I do not dream

I do not dream when you are here
But that is more than I can ask

Because in my dreams, my broken self
Is a long and broken task

But like myself and but myself
I can only have a plea

I can only wish and wish for one
Someone else…
---but me

I can dream that I can die
I can dream that I might live

I can wish for both
And pray for none

And accept what life might give

To a fact that breath will still--
prove what it might find

And to know that I might never know
What is really in my mind

To love that might not find it’s place
And a love that might not give

I can find within myself ;
the only way that I might live

To that I can only find a way
to end my own despair

And in that I can only breathe what breath
could be in the air

I only wish but this.. that love and life can find

Something within what might be, and that with this, maybe could be mine.