Tough Times.

Yes.  The same tough times that raised the price for a slice of pizza at Ramundo's (really, $2.15?  No one has that amount of change.  I would gladly pay 10 cents more to not have 85 cents rolling around my purse after I purchase said pizza.  Plus, you always have quarters from buying $2.50 beers all night.  But I digress.) have found me again in Das Capital.  Hence, I have had to refocus my job search and now I'm looking for restaurant jobs.  Which I have mixed feelings about.  As I was telling the girls, I feel like serving would be a pretty serious regression, and I'm not really thrilled about it.  Bartending, on the other hand, would probably be fantastic.  I mean, I love the bar.  I'm there with embarrassing frequency.  I might as well go even more often and get paid to be there.  Right?  (If you don't agree, don't say anything.  This has taken a lot of careful rationalization.  Don't ruin my hard work.)


Per the refocused job search, I've been all over the district in the past few days applying and interviewing in different bars and restaurants.  I would like to share with you the most ridiculous experience to date.  (To be on the safe side, I will not be sharing the actual name of said restaurant, because I think they are all chuckleheads.)  


So I see online that this particular restaurant is hiring, so I send them a lovely little email and resume.  I hear back from what I can only assume is a manager, although she never told me her job title.  She leaves me a message and asks me to call her so we can set up a time for an interview.  I had to call like 3 times before I was able to reach her and then, rather than set up a specific time, she says "Well, you can just come in whenever you want.  Just call me before you come."  Which, for the record, I found both simultaneously gratifying and appalling.  So on Thursday I'm leaving my apartment to allow enough time to handle this before I have to meet the kids, so I call her, wait on hold for 5 minutes, and then finally speak to her only to find that this is actually not a great time for her and can I please come in tomorrow morning at 9 a.m.?  At which point I tell her I have a grad school interview at 8:30 and I'm not sure exactly how long it will last, but I think about an hour and a half.  (By the way, I was totally right.  Almost exactly 90 minutes.  I am the bomb.)  So she, again, says to just call her when I get out of my interview.  So Friday morning at 10 a.m. I phone this chick and she's like "Yeah, I have this day long training, so you can come now and just have an informational interview with me, or you can come later this afternoon and meet with me and whoever else".  Clearly, I forget who else.  So I decide to meet with her at 3:30, since I had another interview sort of in the area at 2:30 and I like to be efficient. Fast forward to 2:30.  Kick early interview's ass.  Head to Chucklehead interview early.  Rolled up at 3:15 and when this portly Italian fellow greeted me I told me him I was supposed to meet with Chucklehead McGee at 3:30.  At which point he promptly hands me a job application.  I proceed to explain to him that I already have an interview and he insists that I fill out said application.  Which was the biggest joke I've ever seen.  I literally could not take it seriously.  For the following 3 reasons.
1.  Punctuation Errors:  Every question ended with a question mark, even if it wasn't a question.  Like "Describe a time you worked on a team?" or "Explain the difference between good service and great service?"  Well, do you really want me to do that or are you just tossing it out there as a suggestion.
2.  Sheer ridiculousness:  I refuse to believe that some of those questions were serious.  Namely, if you worked here what would your uniform look like?  Uh, you tell me, dude.  What would it look like?  I imagine it would look like everyone else's.  And, the other gem, if you saw someone stealing one piece of flatware at each shift what would you do?  Personally, I would just buy them some flatware from Target.  Or maybe go the budget route and get them a box of plastic cutlery.  
3.  Sheer idiocy.  Okay, so to be fair, this was NOT on the application, but it turns out on Friday at 3:30, Chucklehead McGee was NOT around, so I had to interview with her co-worker Tylosaurus Rex.  Who, to be fair, was cute, but that was about all he had going for him.  We talked for about 15 minutes, but I feel pretty confident we had the same conversation multiple times within those 15 minutes. 


For obvious reasons, I have crossed them off the list and will be focusing on other establishments now.