Another Day, Another Pimp...but not Another Job

I registered with another Pimp yesterday. Why? If my math is right, there've been 15 work days so far this year. Of this total, Temp X has "worked" exactly 5 days. This leisurely schedule is not by choice. I just haven't gotten any calls from my Pimps. So I decided to get some action elsewhere.

I went in full of optimism, seemingly with good reason. When I first contacted this firm two weeks ago, they told me their first available interview was yesterday. "This pimp was going to have a treasure trove of gigs," I thought. "Why else would they make me wait so long."

I wanted to make a great impression, so inspired by the recent Miss America pageant (broadcast on TLC?!), I looked up tips on exuding confidence during a beauty pageant interview. Maybe that would deliver my dream assistant gig (an oxymoron if one ever existed)?

Let's see how that worked out...

Prepare for your interview as if you were studying for a test or job interview -- Because I didn't take typing in junior high and haven't secured a full-time job in years, I'm immediately concerned. I prepare for the interview by driving around their office building four times (the truth is that I'm looking for parking because they don't validate.)

Pay attention to your posture -- The moment I walk in to door my posture went from runway modelesque to Australopithecus as I realize I'm [age redacted] and I'm applying for a temp gig in a job market that's climbing toward 10 percent unemployment.

Use simple tricks for controlling nerves -- Lorazipam and Jagermeister. Can you think of a better way to mellow out?

Listen carefully to the question before speaking -- Sure I listened to the question, whatever it was. But what I really listened for was how often the phone rang. I consider this to be a pretty good indicator of how business is these days. I was in their office for 45 minutes and the phone rang exactly once. It was a personal call.

Pause to think before speaking -- Maybe I was distracted by their lack of activity. Maybe it was the nerve-controlling cocktail. Whatever it was I missed this step and blurted out the following, "I personally believe the U.S. Americans are unable to do so because, uh, some, uh...people out there in our nation don't have maps, and, uh, I believe that our education like such as South Africa and, uh, the Iraq everywhere like, such as and...I believe that they should, our education over here in the U.S. should help the U.S., err, uh, should help South Africa and should help the Iraq and the Asian countries, so we will be able to build up our future for our..." I became even more concerned when my Pimp-to-be agreed.

Be confident enough to be honest -- I failed this point, which is the only thing that might help me get a job. If I was honest I might say something like, "Please shoot me. All I wanted to do when I moved to Hollywood was get paid to write. Turns out I'm getting paid to type. So please, for the love of God, shoot me."

Now I wait by the phone. It's not ringing.