The British are Coming!

Questions are opportunities. Every time someone asks me a question there are two answers: the serious and the farcical. More often than not I provide a sardonic retort to the posed question.

It was with great difficulty that I resisted the urge to answer the innocuous request to "Briefly describe yourself" for my companies weekly digest. Being on of the new hires, the communications director emailed me for some info. While I decided it would be best to play it straight, since my employer isn't a comedy venue, part of me still wishes I went with this:

Andrew was raised by a pack of wild hyenas. This upbringing has left him vulnerable to the sounds of laughter since he never learned to make the distinction between people laughing with him and at him. After the State intervened and separated him from his surrogate parents, he was thrown into a rapid immersion program and forced to abandon his native tongue. He still prefers a cave or open prairie to a cubicle, but it is an ongoing struggle. When dining out, he prefers his steaks rare and doesn't like cutlery. In his spare time, he likes chasing things and cleaning himself with his tongue. Plus, he's single.

In other news, work is going fine. I received my first strike for listening to music and not hearing my boss when he summoned me. The office policy is to write the song and artist on the board for the offense in question. Of course Pandora had to have an uber feminine song on: Title: "A Boy Like You." Despite clamoring that she wrote the song explicitly for me, my coworkers were not impressed. So much for claiming my devotion to jazz.

I have graduated the training program and have started writing real copy for real clients. Thus far, my filler content for the email bulletins has done quite well. On Friday, my three fillers each garnered about 200 clicks. My coworker/competition's fillers averaged about 40-50. I made sure to alert my boss of the victory.

Taking full advantage of my insurance, I went to the dentist during my lunch on Thursday. Fearful at the prospect of a stranger with a drill inside my mouth, I nervously waiting for my check-up. With great pleasure, I discovered that aside from my wisdom tooth with a cavity there were no other flagrant offenses. I think the dentist was disappointed. I asked how things were other than the wisdom teeth. He didn't want to admit it. He whimpered "fine." But I will need to have my wisdom teeth out. What joy.

In regard to the wisdom tooth with a cavity, he commented, "That's a ticking time bomb."

I replied, "So THAT's what that noise was."

He was not amused.

Next week, one of my coworkers returns from her business trip to the UK. I've asked when it's my turn to cross the pond. One of the managers from the home base will be joining us this week.

I've started exclaiming, "THE BRITISH ARE COMING! THE BRITISH ARE COMING!" ...Go on

The Intangibles

I should have known when I was asked my height and how much I could bench press that my real title would be "office muscle," not marketing project intern.

There are certain things that cannot be conveyed on a resume like body measurements, ability to boost office morale or to think quickly and solve problems. In my first two days interning I believe I have given a glimpse of my potential for greatness.
First, however, we'll need to discard the story of how I jammed the copier in my first hours on the job. Sabotage?

My fringe skill set that can't be conveyed on card stock was first displayed when I was asked to grab a binder from a high shelf. This is nothing new for me as honorary member of the Cincinnati Shrine Circus. At least once a month some hag, I mean sweet old lady who confused moth balls for perfume, asks me to get her the jar of pickles on the top shelf at the grocery. I love pickles as much as the next guy, but do the geriatrics think this preserved cucumber has magical properties?

My other strong showing came yesterday with the shuttling of several heavy boxes filled with festival guides. The boxes needed to be sent to various arts outlets in the city. A glut of the boxes were in the conference room and needed to be in the vicinity of the reception area for the messenger service. After lifting two heavy boxes, I used my brain.

I loaded a wheeled chair with three boxes and slid the chair to the front. Brains over brawn. Every day. This saved not only time but precious back muscles. While I do trust that my pilates regimen has been doing wonders to strengthen my lower back, I save all the energy I can. I also saved the company from potential workman comp claims for physical therapy which could have reached tens of dollars.

So, future employers (whoever you might be), when you hire me and give me the sweet corner office and keys to the corporate bathroom remember that you are getting more than a sometimes hard worker with diverse experience, and more than the experience listed on my resume. You are getting all the intangibles. ...Go on

So we meet again quasi-employment

Tomorrow marks the start of my third internship.

Tuesday marks the start of my fourth internship.

Somewhere in between 8:30 a.m. Monday on the train and 6 p.m.-ish on the train home Tuesday I will likely question the purpose of my life. Both internships are unpaid, but cover travel expenses. One will be marketing and PR work and the other will be video editing and production for a comedy theater in the city.

Beyond the main issue of not having a permanent job, these internships signal the end to a style of life. I was getting accustomed to looking for jobs all day. I didn't say I liked that style of life.

I am an anti-shaving, anti-socks, anti-belt, shorts-wearing kind of guy. This doesn't always mesh with corporate America. I suppose they'll want me to shower on a regular basis too. When does it end? I will not be molded. Lots of people talk about settling into a career, but I need to draw the line somewhere.

In reality, I am looking forward to these opportunities. I am always looking for more material and I am pretty sure people don't like hearing about the job I saw on Craigslist. Now, I'll have something to talk about on the phone beyond that crazed squirrel in my backyard that thinks it's a cat. And there's always the hope of an office romance. For the record, I have nothing against cougars...as long as they can provide the lifestyle to which I am accustomed and deserve--four square meals and cable television.

Yeah Mondays. ...Go on