Back when I was still using the blog feature on MySpace, I wrote this entry on October 13th:
I applied to Urban Outfitters; when I took the application back in I handed it to the girl at the register and asked if there was a manager there I could talk to. She said that he left, then she proceeded to READ my application and said, "Have you worked retail before?" I said yes, and she continues to read it and said, "Uh, WHERE have you worked?" I told her a wine store, a bookstore, a drug store, which are all retail places, and she continued to look confused. I wanted to remind her that since she just told me that the manager had just left, she shouldn't grill me on my previous work experience seeing as she is NOT the manager. I wanted to take her scarf off and strangle her with it. Because she was inside and wearing a scarf. And it was seventy degrees outside. She didn't need a fucking scarf.
Well, tonight Kristin and Lindsay and I went to Danny's in Bucktown, and that girl was THERE. And I still hate her. But now I can say to her (via the her in my imagination because I'm still slightly shy), "FUCK YOU. I WORK AT URBAN OUTFITTERS NOW."
Ugh, I just wanted to stub a cigarette out in her eye. But I didn't, because I'm a nice guy.
Instead, Kristin and I danced right next to her, knowing that we were dancing better than her and her loser friends.
Also at Danny's tonight I struck up a conversation with some random girl who works at the company that publishes the phone book here in Chicago, and she told me that if I email her my resume that she can guarantee me a first-string interview for one of the sales/advertising (I don't quite remember because I was on my fourth Red Stripe) positions. I am a networking master!