I got a job. A job that promises to turn into nothing but a way to make a few extra bucks. A temporary job, but a money gig nonetheless. Surely it beats sitting on the computer all day. Of course, this job wasn’t earned by anything I did. It was, as most jobs are, made available because if who I know.
A friend of a friend has a contact with a marketing firm and they needed people for their new promotion. He was asked to invite people he knew, specifically “good looking guys,” and since I have no current source of income and obviously fit the bill, my friend suggested me.
After the initial self-esteem bost, I realized the gig was right up my alley. It deals with three of my favorite things; booze, women, and sports.
As was explained to me by a young-looking asian man, his frizzy haired underling, and a Canadian representative from Molson with a hot ass, I am to dress up in goalie attire and promote Molson beer during Penguin’s games at the Mellon arena, as well as bars across the Pittsburgh region. And when I say goalie attire, I mean it. We’re dressing up in full pads (adorned with the Molson logo), exactly like NHL goaltenders wear.
We are to pass out promotional items to spread the word about the beer and their new campaign “Welcome Back Hockey.” Upon being told the the campaign’s name,
Does anyone else wonder if they’re attempting to play on the classic 70’s sitcom “Welcome Back Kotter.” I considered asking them, but didn’t want to show them how much of a jackass I was during our first meeting.
The job lasts until October 15th. It pays well, and will hopefully allow me to meet a ton of hot girls who will do anything (and by anything I mean sleep with me) for a cheap tee-shirt from a brewing company.
Hopefully, this will lead to other similar jobs. It would be nice to have some steady income, but this will have to do for now.
After much consideration, I’ve decided to retire the Xanga journal. Not that I used it a lot since August 2004, but I’m officially putting it to rest. I will never work for the PA department of education again, and I don’t want to taint my xanga journal with entries not related to that job. I’ve turned over a new leaf, and it’s time for a journal that properly reflects the leaf I have overturned.
With that said, my life hasn’t been too exciting lately. I’ve been jobless for more than three weeks, and most of my days consist of sitting in front of the computer and searching for work on the internet. I’ve looked at all the sites and applied for numerous jobs.
The only company that has gotten in touch with me was 84 Lumber. After a day of golfing (something any unemployed man should do on a Monday) I felt guilty. In an effort to make myself feel better, I went online to the first company I could think of and applied for whatever job was on their website. An application was filled out for the “Inventory Manager” position. An HR representative called the next day. After realizing that the job involved nothing that I, even remotely, want to do, I told them I’d think about it. I haven’t called them back.
Currently there are two jobs that I’m trying to get. One is a Part-Time Production Assistant for WPGH-53 in Pittsburgh. I saw the job posting for this and knew it was for me immediately. I have the proper training for the position and would definitely be better for it than any other schlub they’d hire.
See, my ultimate goal is to be a television writer/producer. A few things need to happen to begin this career.
1) I need to land a job in TV
2) I need to work my ass off
3) I need to move to Los Angeles
All three things will be done, hopefully this job will be my start.
Another job I might land has nothing to do with my career. It’s merely a way to make some money, which, in turn, will allow me to save money so I can move across the country and uproot my life in persuit of my dreams. The job is a sales position with Best Buy. Yes, the department store Best Buy. It has taken some pride-swallowing on my part to be OK with this. After working hard and getting a college degree, it’s the last place I thought I’d begin the rest of my life. I don’t mind simply because the ends will justify the means. If this is what I have to do to save up a few grand, than I’ll put up with it.
In happier news, I do get out of the house a lot. Luckily, for the shittiness that my professional life is, my personal life is GOLD. I’m having a lot of fun and doing a lot of cool things for a guy who has no source of income.
This weekend was, quite possibly, one of the most fun weekends I’ve ever had. My friend Brandon got married on Saturday. Some backstory, though:
How I met Brandon is an interesting story. A few years back, Brandon, like myself, was a part of a late-night talk show on his University television station. He came on my show with Joel, who wsa the host of Brandon’s show. After that, I started chatting with the both of them and we became friends. I started hanging out with Brandon after he moved to Pittsburgh, and eventually became good enough friends with him that I was invited to his wedding.
Anyway, It was an awesome time. He and his wife are a great couple. The reception was classic. Mr. and Mrs. Smoker were introduced to the crowed with the “Monday Night Football” theme song as their enterance music (which made me decide I want the “Perfect Strangers” theme song to be my intro song at my wedding).
There was an open bar. Though I probably don’t need to go into more detail about what I did that night, I will. I had 8 drinks by the time dinner was over. A constant stream of White Russins and Rum-and-cokes followed. By 11 p.m., I was smashed off my ass.
I’d never been so social with people that I had never met before in my life. We all got along great. Everyone at the wedding was cool. I danced my ass off, even though I NEVER DANCE. I hate dancing. But for one night only, I was Patrick Swayzee. Besides dancing with my lovely date, I was dancing with old women, young women, hot women, fat women.
Another wonderfully innapropriate moment occurred when I told Brandon that I found his wife sexually attractive. I then followed that up with a “Seriously, she’s hot.” He laughed at me, but when I told my date what I said, she called me an ass and said that was not a good thing to say. I couldn’t figure out what was wrong with it in my drunken stupor. For the record, there are a few worse and more inapropriate things that could have been said to a new groom.
1) Your wife has enormous boobs and I want to grab them.
2) Your wife is extremely ugly.
3) I had sex with your wife last night.
All of which would have been trumped by actually sleeping with a man’s wife, but I digress.
And with that, I think this has officially been the longest journal entry I’ve ever written, and the longest piece I’ve written in months. If you’re still reading this, I thank you for patronizing my drivel.