Bill was at his parents and I slept alone. It was fine. Quite gray and dark outside this morning, storm clouds approaching. I felt good though. I have hope. Good hope, not Bleedin hope with her phony living in Rome when she’s merely a secretary in San Francisco. Now there’s a reason not to go to San Francisco. She’s polluting the gutters there and with her fat ass it’s problem to step over her to cross the street. Like I said though, I have hope. I sent a thank you email to Jack Cloud for meeting with me and to let him know I am still very much interested in the position we spoke about.

He replied and mentioned that the president of his company will be in on Wednesday and would like to meet with me then. We worked it out that I will meet at 4:30. That means I need an excuse to get out of work early as well as an excuse about why I am wearing a suit. Someone has to die. Preferably someone who is dead already. A compromise has been struck between Bill and myself, a merging of the families. His Aunt Betty will have died and there is a wake I will have to attend in White Plains. No one in the office knows too much about the area, so White Plains will seem far away.

Today’s temp was Jenn, brought to us from Glocap. When you don’t care enough to hire a permanent worker, hire a temp. A temp from Glocap. Jenn is a twenty something woman, a lot of fun, laughed at my jokes and also noticed how cold and unfriendly most everyone in the office is. Well a blind person can see that. This afternoon started with some weirdness from Linda. Nice woman but really scatterbrained. She came into the office around noon, having overslept. Last night a bunch of the account directors went out drinking and she more than likely tagged along.

She had shut off her alarm clock and was a little annoyed that I didn’t call her to see if she was coming in. I think she was suggesting that I call everyone in the office each morning to see if they will be working that day. She also hassled me about a task I was assigned but need the cooperation of a few other people regarding the task. I sent an email to those people and two replied, one affirmative, the other not. Nothing got done and nothing could get done until they stand there telling me what can be tossed away and what could be salvaged.

There was a file cabinet that needed to be moved and when I suggested that it would be easier to move if we emptied it first, she looked at me as if I had two heads. It took me and three other guys to move it a few feet. I told her that I’ve been trying to get things done and it’s been difficult because I have to depend on non cooperative people. I mentioned that I wasn’t pointing fingers since I when you point a finger at someone, three more are pointing back at you. She didn’t understand what that meant and I explained it to her three times, pointing a finger at a wall and physically showing her that three fingers on the same hand were pointing back at me.

As I was heading out the door she instant messaged me, saying that she was sorry for yelling at me. I shut off the computer and left the office.

After a shitty day at work, walked down to the World Trade Center Path train, smoking a Padron, and feeling like I have to get the hell out of McMann and Tate. I still feel that way. I had arranged for an interview, maybe two for today, Thursday. That meant I needed to not be in the office, in otherwords, play hooky. I had spoken to Isabel Abrahams on the phone when I had some privacy and went through the drill, what do I do, am I working presently, and am I circumcised. A most unusual line of questioning, but I answered admirably.

I came home from work thinking of a good excuse to use to get out of work. Dead grandparents wouldn’t cut it, since that would entail too many questions when I got back, and all I needed was one day off. I decided on the implausible. I sent an email to Linda and Donna since I turn on the night phones at 6PM and no one would answer the phone at 7:33 PM. I know they have blackberries and sidekicks so they are plugged in most of the time and an email would work best. I wrote:

“I just came home to find my bathroom ceiling has partially collapsed due to a leaking pipe above. I’m waiting to hear from my landlord. I don’t think I’ll be able to make it in tomorrow as I’ll have to be home waiting for a repairman. I also don’t have water right now either.”

It wasn’t true of course, I wanted to use an excuse where no one would tempt fate and get hurt or sick. What was true was that the New Jersey State Building Inspector was coming by to check out the apartments and make sure there were no violations. I kept checking my email to see if there was any response but there was none at all. I wrestled with guilt. Some strange misguided guilt about leaving this company that I cannot tolerate much more.

There wasn’t much of anything on TV last night. I almost watched Spalding Gray’s ‘Monster in a Box’ which I ordered months ago and finally received yesterday, but I decided to save it for Juan when he makes his appearance again. I think he enjoyed ‘Swimming to Cambodia’ so this might be a treat. Or a slow painful evening at Casa de Ozed y Vila. Bill came home and we watched Law and Order until I started to feel a great fatigue around 10:30, which is when I went to bed and slept a very sound sleep.

I woke up later than usual since I didn’t have to go to work today. I checked my emails and there was not one response to the message I sent last night. I decided to email Terry, and ask her to forward my ‘dilemma’. She’s always checking her Hotmail account so I figured since she would be in before Linda and Donna she’d be able to.

I wrote to Terry:
“I sent an email last night to Debbie and Lesley about having to wait for a repairman to come to fix the partially collapsed bathroom ceiling this morning in my apartment. I don’t know whether they got it since I hadn’t heard anything. Perhaps you could be so kind as to forward this message to them? Thanks.”
I also emailed Mark the office controller telling him about my ‘situation’, “I sent this (the initial email) last night to Linda and Donna. The repairman should be here in an hour they tell me. I still have no water. I doubt I’ll be in today because of this fiasco. Sorry.”

No responses except for a phone call from Linda around 9:30AM asking if I was alright. She never got the email and she was never told by Terry what had ‘happened’ to me. I explained and she told me I should’ve phoned, not realizing that after 6:00PM, no one in the office answers the phone since I turn on the night phone service right before I leave for the day. What the fuck is wrong with these people?

She also asked that I keep them posted about what time I plan to be in. The Building Inspector left after a 5 minute visit, I got suited up and called the office, using the hands free and occasionally running the electric coffee grinder. I told her the repairmen just got started and it didn’t look like they were going to done anytime soon, and I still have no water. While saying this I kept the grinder grinding. She remarked that it sounded like a lot of drilling going on and I agreed.

I surfed the net this morning sending out resumes and got two bites, enabling me to schedule two more interviews this afternoon, spaced an hour apart from each other, 1:30, 2:30 and finally 3:30.

I headed out the door and got onto a bus to the city. I emailed my resume to Bill, asking him if he could print out some copies and I’ll pick them up on my way to the interview. I sat in the back of the bus, looking bangin’ I must say. I did a quick check to see if the latest Mojo or Uncut Magazines were available on 42nd Street, not far from where I used to buy porn called ‘Mo’ Joe’ and ‘Uncut’ in the eighties.

I met up with Bill outside his building, he printed out 10 copies on some really nice paper. We both looked bangin’ on the street though I think I had the upper hand since I was in braces. He was a close second. Thisclose. I got to the first interview a about 15 minutes early so I filled out all the needed paperwork and met with Isabel Abrahams who set me up on tests, both Word and typing. I used to type about 45 words per minute, and you’d think after writing 450 blog entries it would have increased, but I typed 36 wpm. Go figure. Did pretty good on Word, 96% correct. It was basic common sense.

I figured out that Isabel was a germaphobe. No hand shaking, which in the staffing industry, is what it’s all about. She stuck to the script as I walked her through the resume. After about 10 minutes she showed me to the door telling me she’d phone if she had anything. I walked out onto the balmy November afternoon and headed to the next interview, once again a bit early.

This time it seemed to go well. I met with Jack Cloud who I sat with in a very small room at an even smaller desk. He noticed that I lived in Hoboken and proceeded to tell me about how his son, the doctor, was looking to move to Hoboken and was surprised it was so expensive, as expensive as Manhattan. After looking at my resume, I could see a light go on in his head. It turns out his company is looking for a receptionist. He took me in to see the managing director who seemed glad to meet me. He was in a meeting with his assistant and he had me sit down and he told me all about the job, except for salary and benefits. He basically offered me the job but needed to run it by the President of the company who is out this week, celebrating the fact that she is a grandmother once again. I worked for a staffing agency once. It wasn’t that bad, I could easily do it again. It’s in midtown, which I like. So I think I might have something there.

I walked out and called Bill. He seemed enthused. I was soon off to the 3:30 interview. These were all within walking distance and I found myself walking down the same sidewalks I had walked 45 minutes earlier. It was a beautiful day anyhow and I was bangin’ after all. I walked into a building on Madison Avenue, a building I had passed thousands of times before. Alright, hundreds of times.

This was quite a let down after the previous interview. Even the interview with the germaphobe was a lot more comfortable. More forms to fill out and two tests to perform. Once again, Word and typing. This time though, instead of a comfortable room this was in an overheated cramped room with lousy computers. While sweating, I tested basically the same and met some bat chick in the lobby, who told me about how December is a slow month and things will pick up in January. The germaphobe told me that the timing was right to look for a job, to start in January and that’s basically the ideal.

After that I walked to the Path train, Padron-less, yet feeling pretty good. Working in midtown again, wearing a suit and tie, it could be great. I do think the guys who worked with Jack Cloud liked me enough to sell the thought of me working for them. I’d definitely do it.