Bear with me. I am going to sound like an old man giving a "when I was your age" speech.
In 2005, I had a tight 7 minute set that I thought was the best I had ever constructed. In the FPIA finals that year, I did very well...multiple applause breaks, big laughs...just killer. When they announced 3rd and 2nd place, I thought, "Oh well...it was still a good set. I'm not going to win. Am I? Nah...Maybe?"
John Ramsey won in his first year of doing comedy. I had never heard of him or seen his act.
I don't know if Brendon Walsh actually read Ramsey's name this way when he announced him as the winner, but what I heard was, "Jooohnn...Raaaaa....msey." For a split second, I won. That was harsh.
I drank a lot that night. No, I mean, more than I normally did. I considered not doing the contest again, because it was a shit ton of self-imposed stress for a month to have 7 minutes of payoff.
In 2006, I did the contest again. Good showing, but it didn't feel like it did the year before. I tried to put together a set I thought the judges would like. Bad idea. I swore I wouldn't do FPIA again...I just didn't enjoy it. I wanted a contest that allowed me to do 15 minutes. 5-7 could suck it, I thought. I drank alot. Again.
2007. One more time. Tactically, I made the worst error by doing a soapbox bit on school shootings...less than a week after the Virginia Tech massacre. I was pissed off at the media for targeting video games and music (again) as possible causes...and my ego was at its peak in '07, so "fuck the judges", I said. Bad idea. I ranted, made it awkward, won them back, big applause break and laughs. I didn't make it past the prelims for the first time in 8 years. But I felt satisfied about my set, and I was able to enjoy the rest of April as a spectator. Never did the contest again.
What's my point?
Is it that you should stay true to yourself and not perform for the same finals judges you'll see in the years to come?
Is it that this contest doesn't really mean much in the real world or outside of the comedy scene (and outside of April-May)?
No. My point is this: If you do really well next week and you don't win and you feel shitty about it, just remember....fuck you! I had it way worse! You aren't gonna lose to someone whose name is 4 letters different from yours! You're not going to be built up for a split second then cock-punched with reality. You're not gonna hear "Chris Cubagooding" or "Chance Royscheider".
None of you fuckers have names that sound like each other. So suck it up, have a great night, and enjoy the goddamn moment. Break a leg.
Side note: Ramsey's set was far superior to mine in 2005. Well deserved. He's hilarious.
Wednesday, May 15, 2013
Tuesday, May 14, 2013
Blogging is Passive Aggressive, Isn't It? Oh Well.
My project this week is to become aware of my passive aggressive behavior and attempt to minimize it as much as I can. I dislike passive aggressiveness immensely.
Instead of saying "no" to someone, you say "yes" then fuck up whatever you agreed to because in your mind it's easier to do.
A person disagrees with you, but they can't tell you directly, so they bitch about you to a third party. Then that third party tells you, and you get all pissed off, "He should say that to my face! I ought to go tell him some shit!" But you don't...you instead bitch about it back to the third party or to someone else. You respond to passive aggressiveness with passive aggressiveness. (And you know, fuck the third party for getting involved and stirring up shit, too.)
Also, being insulting and brutal online (looking at you, Facebook) is passive aggressive. We are all so brave at home when our target is not in the room.
Oh, and hell yes I'm guilty of these actions. We tend to despise behaviors in others that we ourselves do as well...it's why we can spot them in others so easily.
So, how do I combat this behavior? I think self-awareness is always a big first step. Try to be mindful of moments where I fear telling someone exactly how I feel. If I need to communicate something to another person, I need to just do it directly. Avoid gossip and shit-talking behind someone's back.
Or, just let it go. I don't know about you, but sometimes I forget that I don't have to express every dumb thought in my head or every feeling. Seriously, if I don't want to tell somebody what I think about them, maybe I don't tell anybody else either. Gossip and slander is poison.
My old defense against passive aggressive behavior was to become intoxicated and then be overtly up front with people. This rarely had positive results, regardless of what my foggy memory is of these moments. Apparently, my memory of these incidents differs greatly from others around me who were not as drunk. But who are you gonna believe...
But I do like the idea of being upfront with people. I will try to think, before I add a comment on some dumb shit on Facebook, "Would I say this if we were face to face?"
And above all, I will try to maintain my self-confidence and remember that I don't care what others think. I can express how I feel without fear of rejection or judgment.
Instead of saying "no" to someone, you say "yes" then fuck up whatever you agreed to because in your mind it's easier to do.
A person disagrees with you, but they can't tell you directly, so they bitch about you to a third party. Then that third party tells you, and you get all pissed off, "He should say that to my face! I ought to go tell him some shit!" But you don't...you instead bitch about it back to the third party or to someone else. You respond to passive aggressiveness with passive aggressiveness. (And you know, fuck the third party for getting involved and stirring up shit, too.)
Also, being insulting and brutal online (looking at you, Facebook) is passive aggressive. We are all so brave at home when our target is not in the room.
Oh, and hell yes I'm guilty of these actions. We tend to despise behaviors in others that we ourselves do as well...it's why we can spot them in others so easily.
So, how do I combat this behavior? I think self-awareness is always a big first step. Try to be mindful of moments where I fear telling someone exactly how I feel. If I need to communicate something to another person, I need to just do it directly. Avoid gossip and shit-talking behind someone's back.
Or, just let it go. I don't know about you, but sometimes I forget that I don't have to express every dumb thought in my head or every feeling. Seriously, if I don't want to tell somebody what I think about them, maybe I don't tell anybody else either. Gossip and slander is poison.
My old defense against passive aggressive behavior was to become intoxicated and then be overtly up front with people. This rarely had positive results, regardless of what my foggy memory is of these moments. Apparently, my memory of these incidents differs greatly from others around me who were not as drunk. But who are you gonna believe...
But I do like the idea of being upfront with people. I will try to think, before I add a comment on some dumb shit on Facebook, "Would I say this if we were face to face?"
And above all, I will try to maintain my self-confidence and remember that I don't care what others think. I can express how I feel without fear of rejection or judgment.
Monday, May 13, 2013
You are Entitled...to be Recognized as a Douchebag
One thing that really bothers me is entitlement. One of my favorite sayings is, "Your overwhelming sense of entitlement damages my calm." Unfortunately, I have quite a few opportunities to say this every day, because this world is full of people who think they're owed something or that they deserve it.
I've blogged about empathy before, and I want to empathize with others as much as I can, but it sure is difficult to do when they're full of themselves and think they do what they want, like...say...park in the middle of some nice thick grass on the side of Lamar so they can go eat at Matt's El Rancho.
I like that it's a Cadillac, too. Apparently it's not enough to want to hate on them, they have to have a pricey luxury car to really rub it in. "Fuck those empty parking spaces over there. I would have to walk. I didn't buy this car so I would have to walk like a commoner."
Okay, that might be a bit much. But hey, whatever. I resisted the urge to let the air out of a tire or key the car.
A friend of mine (who knows me too well): "So you didn't do anything to the car damage-wise?"
Me: "No, man. I'm not like that anymore."
Friend: "Right...also, because the car was right on the side of South Lamar Blvd on a Saturday. Too public."
Me: "No...yes. Shut up."
I did want to convey that I was displeased with the driver's disregard for St. Augustine, so...
I think I'm going to get a bunch of business cards printed with that saying on it. That way, I can just silently present the card to a loud asshole on the bus...the guy talking on his cell phone while in line at the convenience store...and yes, leave them on the occasional automobile.
I've blogged about empathy before, and I want to empathize with others as much as I can, but it sure is difficult to do when they're full of themselves and think they do what they want, like...say...park in the middle of some nice thick grass on the side of Lamar so they can go eat at Matt's El Rancho.
I like that it's a Cadillac, too. Apparently it's not enough to want to hate on them, they have to have a pricey luxury car to really rub it in. "Fuck those empty parking spaces over there. I would have to walk. I didn't buy this car so I would have to walk like a commoner."
Okay, that might be a bit much. But hey, whatever. I resisted the urge to let the air out of a tire or key the car.
A friend of mine (who knows me too well): "So you didn't do anything to the car damage-wise?"
Me: "No, man. I'm not like that anymore."
Friend: "Right...also, because the car was right on the side of South Lamar Blvd on a Saturday. Too public."
Me: "No...yes. Shut up."
I did want to convey that I was displeased with the driver's disregard for St. Augustine, so...
I think I'm going to get a bunch of business cards printed with that saying on it. That way, I can just silently present the card to a loud asshole on the bus...the guy talking on his cell phone while in line at the convenience store...and yes, leave them on the occasional automobile.
Sunday, May 12, 2013
Absurdity
While watching YouTube videos of the very talented Josh Robert Thompson (voice and puppeteer of Geoff on Craig Ferguson's show) doing a spot-on Morgan Freeman impression and voice-over (thanks, Justin), it reminded me of a ridiculous argument I had with this guy in treatment. We were watching "Through the Wormhole with Morgan Freeman":
Me: God, I love this show.
Him: Yeah, too bad he's gay.
Me: Morgan Freeman? No, he isn't.
Him: Pretty sure he is. That's what I heard and it makes sense.
Me: Umm...okay, why does it matter if he's gay? Is that what you think about when you hear his voice? That's probably an issue you might want to look into, because the guy does a shit ton of voice work.
Him: No, it's just a shame, that's all.
Me: I don't really want to get into your homophobic shit, really, or why you seem to be infatuated with gay guys.
Him: What are you sayin'?
Me: You just made a comment earlier this week during X-Men about Magneto being gay...which he is...and that you thought Patrick Stewart was too...I told you not all old British actors are homosexual. Most of them, maybe...
Him: No, but Morgan Freeman is...
Me: I wish we had the goddamn internet right now...
Him: Yeah, you could prove me right.
Me: What did you hear? Where did this come from? He's been married like a couple of times.
Him: Gay guys get married...for like an image and shit.
Me: Okay...
Him: Plus, look, he's got an earring in his right ear.
Me: All right. There it is. So let me see if I can follow your logic. Morgan Freeman is enjoying success in Hollywood, but he doesn't want to "come out" and jeopardize his career, so he gets married for a long time. He has to watch and protect every aspect of his personal life to appear to be a heterosexual male actor to the public...forces himself to kiss his wife, or "beard" if you will, in public...but in the middle of all of this planning, he decides to say, "Hey, you know what? I want to do straight guy stuff 100%...except for this shiny ass earring. I'm going to put it in this ear. I know that goes against my huge cover-up, but I'm gonna throw caution to the wind. Fuck it."
Him: Well...
Me: That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard. You know what, I hope he is gay, as well as everyone else you like...just to fuck with you.
It pretty much ended after that...I think because the TV channel was changed to "The Big Bang Theory"...there's a hot girl on that show...I guess it was what he needed to calm down. "Okay, breathe...think sex with girls...sex with that blond girl..."
Homophobia must be exhausting.
Me: God, I love this show.
Him: Yeah, too bad he's gay.
Me: Morgan Freeman? No, he isn't.
Him: Pretty sure he is. That's what I heard and it makes sense.
Me: Umm...okay, why does it matter if he's gay? Is that what you think about when you hear his voice? That's probably an issue you might want to look into, because the guy does a shit ton of voice work.
Him: No, it's just a shame, that's all.
Me: I don't really want to get into your homophobic shit, really, or why you seem to be infatuated with gay guys.
Him: What are you sayin'?
Me: You just made a comment earlier this week during X-Men about Magneto being gay...which he is...and that you thought Patrick Stewart was too...I told you not all old British actors are homosexual. Most of them, maybe...
Him: No, but Morgan Freeman is...
Me: I wish we had the goddamn internet right now...
Him: Yeah, you could prove me right.
Me: What did you hear? Where did this come from? He's been married like a couple of times.
Him: Gay guys get married...for like an image and shit.
Me: Okay...
Him: Plus, look, he's got an earring in his right ear.
Me: All right. There it is. So let me see if I can follow your logic. Morgan Freeman is enjoying success in Hollywood, but he doesn't want to "come out" and jeopardize his career, so he gets married for a long time. He has to watch and protect every aspect of his personal life to appear to be a heterosexual male actor to the public...forces himself to kiss his wife, or "beard" if you will, in public...but in the middle of all of this planning, he decides to say, "Hey, you know what? I want to do straight guy stuff 100%...except for this shiny ass earring. I'm going to put it in this ear. I know that goes against my huge cover-up, but I'm gonna throw caution to the wind. Fuck it."
Him: Well...
Me: That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard. You know what, I hope he is gay, as well as everyone else you like...just to fuck with you.
It pretty much ended after that...I think because the TV channel was changed to "The Big Bang Theory"...there's a hot girl on that show...I guess it was what he needed to calm down. "Okay, breathe...think sex with girls...sex with that blond girl..."
Homophobia must be exhausting.
Saturday, May 11, 2013
la Comunicación
I work with Sonia, who is amazing at her job. She doesn't speak English...but I don't speak Spanish, so it all evens out.
When I first started working with her, there were communication issues...but here we are two months later. I enjoy the nights we are scheduled together. She makes me work my ass off to try to keep up with her. I'm always at the top of my game when she's there.
There is very little chit chat, as you would imagine. That's a fucking relief, by the way. An absence of polite small talk is fine by me.
I have the routine of my shift down now...and I know her routine and process of dishwashing, food prep and clean-up. Being comfortable with how your coworker does their job can eliminate most communication issues. I mean, sometimes she'll tell me something, and I don't have to know what she's actually saying. I can just react to where she's pointing and immediately know what needs to be done.
It reminds me of the "Ocean's Eleven" movies where the grease man just speaks Chinese but everybody knows what he's saying, and they respond back to him in English. Even if I don't know what she says, I'll figure it out. She could say something like "Estare de vuelta" (I'll be right back), and I'll just respond with, "Okay. Si." I've stopped asking, "What was that?" because, why, John? If you can't understand the Spanish phrase, how is her repeating it again going to help? "Oh, I see. You'll be back. Got it. I thought you said you needed to iron a sweatshirt and then walk a tightrope."
I can pick up on her tone...which is absolutely hilarious when she gets angry at the front of the house for getting in the way of her working. Some of them are scared of her. I guess there's something intimidating about getting chewed out by a little Mexican lady...especially when you don't know what she's yelling at you about.
Server: "Oh, I'm sorry...(to me) Do you know what she's saying?"
Me: "She hopes you and your wife have healthy children."
Server: "What? Really?"
Me: "Probably not...but I'd watch where you put the glass rack on her station next time."
Some people need some time to get my humor.
We have our moments at work.
Me: "Buenas dias, Sonia."
Sonia: "No. Buenas tardes, John."
Me: "Well, you say tomate..."
I hurt my hand while cutting potatoes into fries.
Me: "Fuck. Pinche potatoes!"
Sonia: "Ah...pinche papas!"
Me: "Yeah...pinche papas, indeed."
End of shift..."Okay. Es very clean. Bye, John."
"Adios, Sonia."
When I first started working with her, there were communication issues...but here we are two months later. I enjoy the nights we are scheduled together. She makes me work my ass off to try to keep up with her. I'm always at the top of my game when she's there.
There is very little chit chat, as you would imagine. That's a fucking relief, by the way. An absence of polite small talk is fine by me.
I have the routine of my shift down now...and I know her routine and process of dishwashing, food prep and clean-up. Being comfortable with how your coworker does their job can eliminate most communication issues. I mean, sometimes she'll tell me something, and I don't have to know what she's actually saying. I can just react to where she's pointing and immediately know what needs to be done.
It reminds me of the "Ocean's Eleven" movies where the grease man just speaks Chinese but everybody knows what he's saying, and they respond back to him in English. Even if I don't know what she says, I'll figure it out. She could say something like "Estare de vuelta" (I'll be right back), and I'll just respond with, "Okay. Si." I've stopped asking, "What was that?" because, why, John? If you can't understand the Spanish phrase, how is her repeating it again going to help? "Oh, I see. You'll be back. Got it. I thought you said you needed to iron a sweatshirt and then walk a tightrope."
I can pick up on her tone...which is absolutely hilarious when she gets angry at the front of the house for getting in the way of her working. Some of them are scared of her. I guess there's something intimidating about getting chewed out by a little Mexican lady...especially when you don't know what she's yelling at you about.
Server: "Oh, I'm sorry...(to me) Do you know what she's saying?"
Me: "She hopes you and your wife have healthy children."
Server: "What? Really?"
Me: "Probably not...but I'd watch where you put the glass rack on her station next time."
Some people need some time to get my humor.
We have our moments at work.
Me: "Buenas dias, Sonia."
Sonia: "No. Buenas tardes, John."
Me: "Well, you say tomate..."
I hurt my hand while cutting potatoes into fries.
Me: "Fuck. Pinche potatoes!"
Sonia: "Ah...pinche papas!"
Me: "Yeah...pinche papas, indeed."
End of shift..."Okay. Es very clean. Bye, John."
"Adios, Sonia."
Friday, May 10, 2013
Dance, Monkey.
I read a post on Facebook where a guy who said he was a comedian stated that open mics are a waste of time. He said every time he hits the stage he knows he will make money, because he knows what he wants to do with his talent.
Turns out he's actually an actor, because he posted some YouTube clips of him in commercials and on a TV show. I tried to watch them, but the sound was messed up. All I could hear in each clip was the sound of someone sucking their own dick.
He was at first trying to make the point of, don't wait around in open mics to be discovered. Okay. Pretty obvious, but thanks for helping. Then it just turned into a very sad display of placating his own ego. It's all about money to him, I got it. Fucking actors using stand-up to further their career...makes me wish the bottom would drop out in comedy again...run off everybody who don't have the passion for stand-up comedy as an art form.
Because it is, you know. All self-deprecation aside..."I'm just a dancing monkey to sell booze"...it's still art. I am an artist...and I need to remember that. New people starting off in open mics here need to ask themselves why they do it. Do they truly love the art form? Do they have a passion for performing in front of people, even if those people are the bartender, the waitress, four other people going up and one of their girlfriends who won't be coming back next week?
The problem with this guy is not that he only wants to perform for money. Hey, if money is your motivator and your god, that's just who you are. Cash rules everything around me, whatever. The problem is that he was trying really hard to convince other people that what he was doing was the way to go, and that they needed to do the same. That's self-doubt eating away at him, and his ego was trying to protect itself from the realization that performing for money alone makes you more of a whore than an artist.
Gotta watch the ego, man. That's why I posted this on a blog instead of arguing with him on Facebook. My immediate desire to tell him off and be right was my ego trying to run me. A little ego is awesome when performing and writing for entertainment purposes, but not necessarily when attempting to interact with others.
I should have known better than to read posts in a Facebook group anyway. What a waste of time. I needed to interact with real people to wash the social networking funk off of me.
I stopped by open mic night at the Velveeta Room tonight and had a nice conversation with a new guy who was going up for like his 5th time. The kid had the nervous energy as he was pacing outside, and he had that thing...what was it? Hope. Yeah, that's it. Hopes and dreams. It was kind of annoying, actually.
He said his friends asked him if he was making any money...and he stated that it was more like he was paying $30 to do it with all the drinks "and stuff".
Me: "Do you like performing, though?"
Him: "Yeah, it's why I keep coming back."
Me: "Good call. Hang with the comics you think are funny and are writing. Avoid the assholes."
I wished him luck on his set. And I meant it.
Turns out he's actually an actor, because he posted some YouTube clips of him in commercials and on a TV show. I tried to watch them, but the sound was messed up. All I could hear in each clip was the sound of someone sucking their own dick.
He was at first trying to make the point of, don't wait around in open mics to be discovered. Okay. Pretty obvious, but thanks for helping. Then it just turned into a very sad display of placating his own ego. It's all about money to him, I got it. Fucking actors using stand-up to further their career...makes me wish the bottom would drop out in comedy again...run off everybody who don't have the passion for stand-up comedy as an art form.
Because it is, you know. All self-deprecation aside..."I'm just a dancing monkey to sell booze"...it's still art. I am an artist...and I need to remember that. New people starting off in open mics here need to ask themselves why they do it. Do they truly love the art form? Do they have a passion for performing in front of people, even if those people are the bartender, the waitress, four other people going up and one of their girlfriends who won't be coming back next week?
The problem with this guy is not that he only wants to perform for money. Hey, if money is your motivator and your god, that's just who you are. Cash rules everything around me, whatever. The problem is that he was trying really hard to convince other people that what he was doing was the way to go, and that they needed to do the same. That's self-doubt eating away at him, and his ego was trying to protect itself from the realization that performing for money alone makes you more of a whore than an artist.
Gotta watch the ego, man. That's why I posted this on a blog instead of arguing with him on Facebook. My immediate desire to tell him off and be right was my ego trying to run me. A little ego is awesome when performing and writing for entertainment purposes, but not necessarily when attempting to interact with others.
I should have known better than to read posts in a Facebook group anyway. What a waste of time. I needed to interact with real people to wash the social networking funk off of me.
I stopped by open mic night at the Velveeta Room tonight and had a nice conversation with a new guy who was going up for like his 5th time. The kid had the nervous energy as he was pacing outside, and he had that thing...what was it? Hope. Yeah, that's it. Hopes and dreams. It was kind of annoying, actually.
He said his friends asked him if he was making any money...and he stated that it was more like he was paying $30 to do it with all the drinks "and stuff".
Me: "Do you like performing, though?"
Him: "Yeah, it's why I keep coming back."
Me: "Good call. Hang with the comics you think are funny and are writing. Avoid the assholes."
I wished him luck on his set. And I meant it.
Thursday, May 9, 2013
Random Notes...'til the Break of Dawn
3:08 am
No writing inspiration at this moment. Breathalizer at 5. I'm going to take a shower and see if something hits me.
3:38 am
I am now clean, awake and refreshed. I feel like a new man...a new man who, like the old man, has no fucking ideas to write about.
4:02 am
Time for a cup of hot tea. Golden Oolong Tea. Oolong is a traditional Chinese tea...but I bought it because of the packaging...and it sounded fancy...and it was on sale. You stay classy, HEB.
4:18 am
You shouldn't microwave your cup of water with the tea bag in it if the string coming from the bag is attached to the paper label by a small staple. I nearly burned down the goddamn sober house just now. I'd then be known as the Tea Bag Arsonist in the media, and I'd be contacted by all sorts of perverts for the rest of my life.
4:22 am
Why yes... I do giggle every time I type "tea bag". I'm only human.
4:51 am
Browsing Craigslist jobs, because you never know, right? One listing for dishwashers had these lines in it:
-- You must be presentable in appearance
-- Dishwashers with car preferred
-- Bi-lingual or English preferred
-- Must be able to pass a background check. No felons please.
-- Please email resume
Now, I personally am trying to avoid making assumptions. Maybe there really is a well-dressed, clean cut, English speaking individual without a felony who will e-mail a resume to this employer when applying for a dishwashing position. It's a possibility, right?
I, however, gave up on the ad at "presentable in appearance", which was the first sentence. I thought, fuck off...and then I read "No felons", which was the ad telling me, "No, YOU fuck off." Well played, Craigslist Ad.
There is a phone number in the ad as well. I'm tempted to call up and ask, "Yes, I'm interested in applying for one of your dishwasher positions. Should I send a cover letter with my resume?"
5:00 am
Breathalizer. I can now go to sleep, but I probably won't.
5:06 am
My roommate, Bob, is up. He has a new job, so he wakes up at 5 am...just as I go to sleep. We're essentially time-sharing the room.
He's not from here. "What in God's name is going on with that upper deck lower deck thing on I-35?" Congrats, Bob...you're one step closer to rejoining society by sharing in the loathing of the I-35 commute. Mazel tov.
Bob: "Why would anyone build the highway like that?"
Me: "Because it, like communism, was a great idea in theory. It, like communism, would have worked if it weren't for the existence of human nature."
5:19 am
Currently listening to Nocturne in E flat Major, Op. 9 No. 2.
You know...Frederic Fucking Chopin?
5:45 am
Just spent half an hour at the Berrics' website. Time for a cigarette and bed. I have to work tomorrow...today...in 11 hours. Gotta hurry before that damned sun comes up.
And...scene.
No writing inspiration at this moment. Breathalizer at 5. I'm going to take a shower and see if something hits me.
3:38 am
I am now clean, awake and refreshed. I feel like a new man...a new man who, like the old man, has no fucking ideas to write about.
 |
| I got nothin'. |
4:02 am
Time for a cup of hot tea. Golden Oolong Tea. Oolong is a traditional Chinese tea...but I bought it because of the packaging...and it sounded fancy...and it was on sale. You stay classy, HEB.
4:18 am
You shouldn't microwave your cup of water with the tea bag in it if the string coming from the bag is attached to the paper label by a small staple. I nearly burned down the goddamn sober house just now. I'd then be known as the Tea Bag Arsonist in the media, and I'd be contacted by all sorts of perverts for the rest of my life.
4:22 am
Why yes... I do giggle every time I type "tea bag". I'm only human.
4:51 am
Browsing Craigslist jobs, because you never know, right? One listing for dishwashers had these lines in it:
-- You must be presentable in appearance
-- Dishwashers with car preferred
-- Bi-lingual or English preferred
-- Must be able to pass a background check. No felons please.
-- Please email resume
Now, I personally am trying to avoid making assumptions. Maybe there really is a well-dressed, clean cut, English speaking individual without a felony who will e-mail a resume to this employer when applying for a dishwashing position. It's a possibility, right?
I, however, gave up on the ad at "presentable in appearance", which was the first sentence. I thought, fuck off...and then I read "No felons", which was the ad telling me, "No, YOU fuck off." Well played, Craigslist Ad.
There is a phone number in the ad as well. I'm tempted to call up and ask, "Yes, I'm interested in applying for one of your dishwasher positions. Should I send a cover letter with my resume?"
5:00 am
Breathalizer. I can now go to sleep, but I probably won't.
5:06 am
My roommate, Bob, is up. He has a new job, so he wakes up at 5 am...just as I go to sleep. We're essentially time-sharing the room.
He's not from here. "What in God's name is going on with that upper deck lower deck thing on I-35?" Congrats, Bob...you're one step closer to rejoining society by sharing in the loathing of the I-35 commute. Mazel tov.
Bob: "Why would anyone build the highway like that?"
Me: "Because it, like communism, was a great idea in theory. It, like communism, would have worked if it weren't for the existence of human nature."
5:19 am
Currently listening to Nocturne in E flat Major, Op. 9 No. 2.
You know...Frederic Fucking Chopin?
5:45 am
Just spent half an hour at the Berrics' website. Time for a cigarette and bed. I have to work tomorrow...today...in 11 hours. Gotta hurry before that damned sun comes up.
And...scene.
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