In which I get TWO stories from ONE interview

OH MY GOD, you guys. I just had another interview and I've gotten not one but TWO crazy stories from it. One is about the interview itself...and the other is about what happened afterward.

Hmm, maybe I should divide them into two posts, stretch out the excitement...kind of how they're dividing the last Harry Potter book into two movies, except honestly they could just cut out like 90% of the stupid stuff about the deathly hallows and wandering around in the woods for 70 pages and be left with a single movie under two hours and I'd be fine. But I digress.

Anyway...no. I'm WAY TOO EXCITED, must post everything now.

Alright, so first off...the interview. It was at a very hip and trendy New York PR firm. I can state with certainty that I am absolutely not cool enough to work there. I walk in, and the whole thing is one giant room, with exposed brick walls and hardwood floors and giant vintage 50s advertisements for things like toothpaste hanging everywhere and some weird African mask hanging in the corner and fancy throw rugs and armless chairs, and all of the desks are super-chic clear glass desks all lined up in rows.

So. I slowly walk inside, and...there's no one in the room. Hmm.

"[K]?" says some lady appearing suddenly from behind an African mask.

"Gah! I mean...yes! Hello!" I say.

"Just have a seat, everyone's finishing up a meeting in the conference room, they'll be right with you."

"Ok, great. Thanks," I say, and sit down and wait. La la la.

Ten minutes later, about 15 people come out of the conference room and walk immediately over to a stereo set up in the middle of the room. All of a sudden I hear Mariah Carey belting out "All I Want For Christmas Is You" and...EVERYONE IN THE OFFICE STARTS DANCING.

IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROOM.

TO MARIAH CAREY CHRISTMAS MUSIC.

Erm....hmmm.

Ah...not really sure what I'm supposed to do, at this point. Should I...get up and dance too? Is this, like, some kind of New-York-PR-hip-and-trendy litmus test? The thing is that if I actually worked here, I'd probably be LEADING the Mariah Carey Christmas dance party, but...I don't actually work here. Soo...I guess I'll continue to sit in the corner.

This is awkward.

Hmmm.

Finally, some guy spots me, mid-twirl, and says, "Oh you must be [K]! Ok let's get started." And he pulls four people out from the dance circle and we all go into a conference room.

"Well, you probably didn't have dance parties to Mariah Carey in your last job!" says one of the interviewers as we sit down.

"Har...err, no! Haha!" I say.

And then we proceeded to have a perfectly normal interview.

Oh, except at the end, when one of the other interviewers was all, "ok we'll need references, and writing samples, oh and we need to do a credit check."

"Oh," I say. "Sure."

"I'M JUST KIDDING! HAAA! GOT YOU!" says the interviewer. "No credit check!"

"Oh har hee hee!" I say, awkwardly. Sheesh.

OK.

NOW, the after-story. Since I do not actually live in New York City, after the interview, I headed to catch my bus home. After I got to eat a delicious slice of New York pizza with one of my besties, Susan, that is. Yum. Anyway...I board my old friend the BoltBus.

Now, normally, I LOVE BOLTBUS. It is amazing. It's like 10 bucks and not sketchy and filled with mostly college kids and people in their 20s and the driver is usually witty and makes funny jokes when we pull out of the station.

So. I sit down, some guy sits down next to me because it's a full bus, the bus takes off and I'm reading and not really paying much attention to anything else. Then the guy takes out his cell phone and starts yapping away in a Middle-Eastern-sounding accent that I can't quite identify.

Eh, whatever. Being of the cell-phone generation and also generally relying on public transportation to go anywhere, I can usually tune these people out, even when they're yapping RIGHT IN MY EAR.

But once I started listening to this guy, I just...could not stop. And NOW COMES THE AWESOMENESS.

The following is an actual transcript of the guy's end of this conversation. And I know it's an actual transcript because after about 20 seconds of listening to this dude, I was all "GOOD GRAVY I HAVE GOT TO WRITE THIS DOWN." Which I did, surreptitiously, on the back of a copy of my resume. I KNEW it would be handy to carry that around with me.

Oh, and for your background information, he's talking to his girlfriend. I mean, I assume.

OK. HERE WE GO.

[Bus Guy]: "No. No, baby, I am not giving you my password."

Pause.

"Because it is a private thing. If you have my password, then you will be able to read my email and that is a private thing."

Pause.

"But I don't WANT to read your email. You should not want me to read your email because it's private for you."

Pause.

"NO I'M NOT HIDING ANYTHING. For you to have my password, it is not right. My email, it is private."

Pause.

"Baby. No. This is a privacy issue and I am done talking about this. No. No...no, done. DONE. I AM DONE."

Pause...and then he mumbled something that I couldn't hear, because I got distracted by the girl sitting in front of us who started having some kind of meltdown and was crying to her husband sitting next to her, and the husband looked like he wanted to be sitting anywhere in the world except on this bus, next to his hysterical wife. She was hiccuping between sobs, and I all could make out were "my elementary school is really important to me" and "father doesn't understand" and "I FEEL LIKE AN IDIOT" before I realized the guy next to me was still on the phone and then was all "whoops I have to keep writing this down" and went back to listening to him.

[Bus guy]: "No, you're always going to the bar after class with them."

Pause.

"No, that's your responsibility to ask me to come, you go like three or four times a week."

Pause.

"Well he should ask her to go out for a coffee so he can actually speak with her and find out if she's smart. The bar is not the place for that."

Pause.

"That's what I did with you. When I first saw you, I was like, 'oh, look at the cute girl.' I didn't realize you were smart, because you didn't say a f*cking word."

Pause.

"I only realized you were smart later. After I asked you out for a coffee."

Pause.

"Yeah, I like the job better. It's better to get to stretch my legs instead of being crammed around a table."

Pause.

"I know, thanks to the Palestinian intifada...FINALLY."

Me, inwardly: Ermmmm?

"That is ridiculous, what are they asking you for?"

Pause.

"HA. I AM against genocide. Why should I have to sign a paper that says I'm against genocide?"

Pause.

"If I were you, I would say that I am against the ones that promote being against genocide. And that's why I killed them."

Me, inwardly: ERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRM WTF IS HAPPENING HERE.

[Annoyingly high-pitch laugh]: "It is just ridiculous, how can you be AGAINST genocide?"

Alright, as this point, he veers off into a discussion of global genocide that was actually rather intelligent and not really something to make fun of, so I will skip over that part and go straight to...THIS PART.

"Ok, baby. I must go soon...will you be faithful to me until I see you again?"

Pause.

"I don't know...I just want to check."

Pause.

"Will you please?"

Pause.

"Alright alright alright. OK."

Me, feeling kind of sorry for him. I mean, sheesh. Until...

"Maybe I should buy you that metal underwear. You know, that kind that locks and you cannot get it off."

Pause.

"Well what about rubber?"

Me: Starting to feel awkward.

"Hmmm, or maybe just some sexy lingerie."

Pause.

"Why don't you talk to me about that thing."

Pause.

"You know...that thing that you wanted to have fun with."

Me: OK REALLY AWKWARD NOW.

"Yeah I want to talk about it now. RIGHT NOW. I hope you have it with you."

OOOOOK. This had all been fun and amusing for awhile but GOOD GRAVY THIS CONVERSATION HAS TO STOP. RIGHT NOW. So at this point, I may or may not have slammed my pen down and given this dude a look that said something to the effect of "DUDE ARE YOU SERIOUSLY ABOUT TO DO THIS ON THE BOLTBUS BECAUSE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, I WILL NOT BE ABLE TO DROWN THIS OUT NO MATTER HOW L0UDLY I PLAY MY IPOD."

I think he got the message, because he sort of turned away and talked in a really, really low voice for the rest of the conversation. Later, I had to shove him to the side after he fell asleep ON MY ARM.

So. In conclusion...I still love BoltBus.