Me and Fausto, Down By the Lumber Yard

Well I can kiss that last job opening goodbye. Because of the vast amount of copying-and-pasting I've been doing on my craigslist binge, I replied to an admin. assistant job an an investment firm by telling them in my cover letter "... and I would be excited to be a part of your fast-paced tutoring company". And, of course, the skill set they are looking for highlighted 'attention to detail'.

Job hunting is kind of like recess in elementary school when you are lining up to play kickball. At first you are hoping that the good captain picks you, and maybe you can play first base. But then after a few rounds of drafting, you think to yourself, maybe it doesn't matter which team I get on. And then as you stand there timidly next to the kid with crutches and the only girl, you just start praying to God Himself. Oh please let me not be last! I don't care what team drafts me anymore, I really don't! First base? I'll take right field, hell, I'll even catch. Oh Jesus, there goes the girl, now it's just me and the handicapped kid. What if I don't get picked at all, is that even possible! I was just kidding about first base! HAHA, I can't even catch that playground ball without spraining my wrists! I can't handle this kind of rejection, NOOOOOOO - there goes hop-along. Fuck it, I'm gonna go join the nerds and play Magic.

And now here I am, twenty years later, thinking the same thing about a job. It started at writer's assistant. Then it was just anything in the entertainment industry. Now it's just anything in the assistant industry. Soon I'm going to be lined up next to the Mexicans at Home Depot, hoping for an under the counter landscaping job. Damnit, there goes Pedro. Is it just me and Fausto! He can't even speak english!