Tuesday, February 08, 2005

crawling out of the woodwork...

Because I work in the dark depths of the suburbs, news travels fast. This Sunday, the local paper ran half a sentence on my new job. And so begins the trouble...
This past fall, I worked at a Film Festival, managing 400 volunteers I've long since forgotten about. Tonight, one of those volunteers called me at HOME, having apparently read every corner of this stupid gossip column and found the well hidden blurb about me. She is now, of course, looking for a job for her "friend".
First things first: Ben gets to hire this new person, not me. Secondly, I've made it perfectly clear to Ben that this new hire be a straight, hot, single guy - not a middle aged woman with a Ford Taurus. Finally, the best way to get your friend NOT HIRED is to call me at HOME during the fucking West Wing. Like we say at auditions, Next!
I am noticing that my job is a little more public than I'm used to. This may be reflected in my having to censor my blog. That sucks. But fear not. I have to go to the goddamn Hall of Justice yet again tomorrow. Why? Because I ran a stop sign on May 26th, 1972. You know, if Miss Film Festival Volunteer bails me out of jail, we just might have to hire this friend of hers...

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

So much for the struggle for women's rights in the workplace......t.p.