I've graduated college and have no life plan. (I was an art major, can you tell?) In those days of yore, the late 80's, right before that thing called the inter-net was invented, people applied for jobs by looking in this thing called a "newspaper,"(1) and using this thing called a "telephone" (2). For some unknown reason that I can't understand, I am using a "payphone" (3)\ while standing in the middle of Grand Central Station, in New York City. aka, crackhead central. (4)
I thought it might be oh so fun, to work at the Gap. So I called them up, hoping I could drop my resume by and maybe talk to someone, but unfortunately they started asking me questions right then and there. "Why do you want to work at the Gap?" "What makes you an outstanding customer service/salesperson?" "Are you wearing Gap clothing now, and how do you feel about it?"
As I stumble out my pathetic generation X standard lame responses, I stare into space, hoping for divine guidance from the universe, but unfortunately, space seems to be occupied, by a crackhead. Damn, I"ve made eye contact, and now he's approaching. Doesn't he know that I"m trying to converse with The Gap? I try to concentrate but it's no use. I can barely hear the peppy questions being asked because they are being overpowered by scary questions like "xcooooooz me laaaady...?" It's like attack of the zombies....."Canyoumaybe heelb me oout widah coupla doolahs?" Well....I don't have to tell you how this all ended, it's probably fairly obvious.
footnotes:
(1) "Newspaper" Thin pieces of paper bearing information that they used in the stone age
(2) "telephone" Primitive communication device that they used in the stone age
(3) "payphone" same as above, but covered in slime in public places
(4) "crackhead central" was Grand Central Station in the 80's before you could buy sushi there. It was something like the 7th level of Hell.
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