moo says the cow (a job interview - part 2)

The interview last night went about as well as expected...which is to say 'not' well. After driving downtown, I was instructed by the receptionist to have a seat with the 'other' six o'clock interviewees. "Other?", I asked. "Yes", she said, "this is a group interview." Interestingly enough, her name was Osha...one in the same with the Occupational Safety and Health Administration. What are some parents thinking? Osha? No Ashley or Jen or even Laquita, but Osha? Who would look at an acronym and decide, 'gee, what a pretty name that would make?'. Of course, who am I to talk. I'm planning on naming my kids Aka, Epa, and Rsvp (pronounced Raz-veep).

So we're all herded, like cattle, into a classroom where we're given the specifics of the job. Large school, many students throughout the country, admissions based...which, in essence, means tele-sales. By now, I'm sure that this position isn't for me. I stuck around though based on the promise of 'free food'. It was a culinary institute, so I figured that at least I'd get a tasty dinner out of the deal.

Though this wasn't to be the case either. The first clue came when some guy named Jack came in with a tray of styrofoam cups. Okay, so I shouldn't have expected fine China, but what culinary meal is served in styrofoam? We were later informed that the meal we were being given was a mix between won-ton and matzah ball soup. So, with raised eyebrows and ever lowering expectations, I gingerly tried my 'wonzah ball soup' and found that it was incredibly bland. I had much higher expectations from a culinary school.

This didn't stop me from eating it, though. I was determined to get something from the six dollars that I spent to park, and if that meant eating every drop of wonzah ball soup from my cup, then this is what I was going to do! Soon after, we were given a short break. Nobody moved from their seats. Except for me, that is. I went straight for the door, straight down the elevator, and out onto the street. Fittingly, it was raining.

So through the rain, one matzah ball and one won ton rolling around in my stomach, to my six dollar park job I trudged. I started my car and was greeted by the gas light. Understanding that I had very little gas, I rationalized that I needed to go at least 70 down the parkway to ensure that I wouldn't run out of gas.

I made it home just in time for Seinfeld on TBS. So at least there was an upside to the day.