September 3, 2013

Bitch Please

I got some news this morning. Bad news.

As soon as Joe told me, I knew I had to write about it...because it's not necessarily funny-ha-ha...but it's definitely a "that WOULD happen to Lauren" story.

PLUS, I've been working like crazy for 12 days straight, making the line between what would be considered funny and what's completely depressing slightly blurred.

Annnnnnnd I haven't written a blog in a while. So this is all I got!

We ALL know I hate my job. It's really a broken record at this point and I hate myself every time I say it but I mean, for REAL. Every minute that passes and I'm sitting at my desk doing NOTHING except waiting for someone to show me mercy by requesting a photocopy is like dying a slow and painful death.

My PopPops once said that working a shitty job was like, "hitting yourself in the head with a hammer all day because it feels so good when you stop." That never made sense to me until I became a receptionist....because every time the phone rings, I feel like I'm getting bashed in the face with some kind of heavy instrument (hence the slow and painful death). I get it.

Preach on PopPops, preach.

Anyway, after two years of applying for hundreds of jobs and my hard earned Bachelor's Degree gathering dust, it finally seemed like there was some light shining at the end of the tunnel...because I landed an interview! I landed the holy grail of interviews with the county government! I studied up on the position, practiced the perfect answers to all the typical interview questions, planned a professional interview outfit....I even paid twenty bucks for a manicure in a conservative "nude" shade because the Career Center at my college said any other color for an interview was "distracting and off-putting" AKA skankalicious. I was prepared to sell the shit out of my nude-nailed-self.

Unfortunately I'm not black.

A couple weeks went by and I had heard nothing. Assuming I blew the interview, I kind of shrugged it off and chocked it up as another loss. Then I learned (from a couple of my husband's connections) that it was between me and another chick - we were the top two candidates. This made the anticipation even worse. It really could happen. I e-mailed the director of Human Resources to make sure he knew how interested I was and asked if a decision had been made.

I should have known when I never got a response.

Then this morning Joe told me. He said he wanted me to hear it from him instead of in a rejection letter, or worse, never hearing anything at all. The position had gone to a black woman, not based on credentials or that she interviewed better than was simply because the county needed a more diverse candidate.

Now, I harbor no resentment to this lady at all. I'm sure she was extremely qualified for the position and she will do a great job but I can't stop thinking about how everything would have been different if only they had known that I am, in fact, black on the inside.

I've given this situation a lot of thought and, in an effort to avoid this heartache next time around, I've decided to make some changes to the "Additional Skills and Information" section of my resume. It now looks a little something like this:

Additional Skills and Information
  • Ability to accurately rap any Nicki Minaj song on command
  • I've never passed up an opportunity to dance to The Wobble or The Cupid Shuffle
  • If I'm drunk enough, I can even do them properly
  • When I was little, I used to BEG my mom to buy me a black baby doll
  • 2 out of my 6 preset radio stations are of the hip-hop variety
  • Certified Whooty (white girl with a booty)
I think this will clear up a lot of confusion for any interviews I embark on in the future.

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