Wanted: a job. Preferably in a creative role and not working with salespeople (they’re idiots) or network technicians (there’s only so many Unix in-jokes I can handle). Will perform fantastic head in exchange for higher wage. Even if you’re female.

Well… that’s how I felt at the start of the week. I finished my current position yesterday, and this week has been really busy. I’ve been attending job interviews like a UK backpacker desperate to milk the last cent out of their working visa.

My first idea was to go back to temping while I made up my mind what sort of job I wanted. A friend advised I check out tempsonline.com.au - apparently it was quite new, and supposed to be very good. The site actually makes temping look really fun and desirable, but I suspect this is because they use jaunty colours. I was totally sucked in by the pictures of young people all prancing around in joy (I cannot understand how temping could make you feel this way - perhaps they’d found a temp position that miraculously paid above minimum wage). After I registered, a rather sceptical Tempsonline representative emailed me to question some of the details I’d put down in my account. Did I really type 100 words a minute? Did I make a spelling mistake? Yes, I emailed back. I do type 100 words a minute. I got a rather eager reply from the person, claiming 7 temp agencies had potential work for me. Seven days later and I’d heard from nobody, so I thought I’d perhaps look for some permanent positions.

You know, if I ran my own temp agency I’d at least be upfront about the way I’d treat my temps. I’d make sure they recieved increasingly shrinking amounts of employment during their time with me, and every time they got a temp job I’d make sure they got only the vaguest of directions to the business hiring them.

Off to seek.com.au I went, and applied for every ad that I was remotely interested in. There was one I didn’t apply for:

Working for free? Talk about devotion. I clicked on the ad to get the details…

I suppose they’re presuming the opportunity you have been waiting for is a job that pays you purely in superannuation.

A few hours after I’d applied for around 40 jobs, my mobile started ringing all day. As I type this it continues to ring. It appears that every job I applied for is being followed up. Perhaps I appear more qualified than I thought. I’ve started rejecting some offers that relate to customer service because I’m trying to move away from that side of things. After sifting through what jobs I do and don’t want, there’s about 3 or 4 I really want.

Over the past couple of days I’ve been attending interviews. The first interview I had was rather interesting.

Interviewer: Well, you certainly sound qualified for the position… um…
Me: Hmm?
Interviewer: (bites pen) There’s just one small thing…
Me: I don’t have enough experience?
Interviewer: No! No, not at all. It’s just the salary.
Me: Oh.
Interviewer: It’s only (salary twice the amount I was hoping for). I guess you must be asking for something more than that.
Me: No!! No, no, no!

I nearly fell off my chair when I found out how much they were willing to pay. So I’ve decided that as long as you act like you’re supposed to be earning a lot of money, you’ll get offered more money. I think it helps you have a genuine common interest with the interviewer, too. Take one interview I had Thursday afternoon:

Interviewer: Sorry I’m late. I was just finishing off my lunch. (points to back of 3D’s chips)
Me: Oh, I like those chips.
Interviewer: They’re new, aren’t they?
Me: Yep.
Interviewer: They’re quite nice actually.
Me: Well, they’re better than a normal corn chip.
Interviewer: That’s right. Because they’re 3D.
Me: Well, so are regular corn chips if you think about it.
Interviewer: Yes, but… (makes hand motion) you get the idea.
Me: I think it would be good if you could buy them with melted cheese in the middle.
Interviewer: That’s… that’s absolute genius.
Me: I take my chips seriously.
Interviewer: As do I. I must admit corn chips are a favourite of mine.
Me: Cheese supreme or nacho cheese?
Interviewer: Are you joking? Cheese supreme of course! In fact, I put SAUCE on my corn chips!
Me: When I went to Japan, they had sauce sachets inside bags of corn chips.
Interviewer: That… (visibly gobsmacked) now THAT is pure genius.
Me: What’s your opinion on Pringles?
Interviewer: Good, but only as a treat.
Me: Wisely spoken.

By the end of the interview we’d even managed to compile our most favourite chip flavours.

The scores were:

Me:
1. Chicken
2. Barbeque
3. Cheese and onion

Interviewer:
1. Plain salted
2. Barbeque
3. Salt and vinegar

Then my interviewer cried foul, claiming chicken could not under any circumstances be a number 1 chip flavour. After some argument, he proposed it would be more fair if we chose our three favourite flavours each, and gave the most favourite three points each, the second favourite two points and so on.

Results under new scoring system:
1. Barbeque
2. Plain salted/chicken
3. Salt and vinegar/cheese and onion

The interviewer’s tip for a flavour revival? Salt and vinegar. Currently dismissed for ‘fad’ flavours like Pepper Steak, but on its way back. (And who can forget that questionable flavour of chips known only as ‘The Full Monty’ as a tie-in with the film? They didn’t even say what it was supposed to taste like! For all we knew, it was the taste of a skinny naked Englishman’s bottom!)

Apparently most interviewers seem to think I’d do well as a salesman. They reason that it’s a logical progression from customer service. I’m not so sure though. I don’t want to end up like the snide salespeople at my work. I don’t want to be an arsehole for a living.

*****

Adam and I tend to use the Constipation Method of washing: let the dirty clothes build up until you simply can’t go on without washing something. It can cause problems, especially when we’re trying to find a clean pair of socks.

On Wednesday I’d managed to find a clean pair of white socks, but I’m normally a black sock kinda guy. The Adidas logos just doesn’t seem to merge well with a business suit. I then decided that perhaps it would be a good idea if I put the black socks on over the white ones. It worked well, but looked a bit strange: my feet were really puffy and pointy at the ends. Sort of like pixie feet. Unfortunately I still carried around this faint corn chip-like stench all day, because of the dirty stocks.

*****

Recently there were some new train stations that opened in Sydney, along the new airport train line. They’re all rather deserted stations, nobody seems to get off at them, but the biggest mystery of them all is Wolli Creek.

I have never seen anyone disembark at Wolli Creek train station. It’s not even near any creek that I can see. In fact, the whole train station seems to be an island in between lots of train tracks. It’s stuck out in the middle of this rail interchange in what I guess you would call an industrial area of town. Does anyone know what Wolli Creek train station is actually near?

The novelty of those Streetvision ‘digital billboards’ is wearing off pretty quickly, too. Around a month ago, Cityrail installed ‘digital billboards’ (read: projectors) in all the city train stations. They play ads while you wait for the trains to arrive, mixed in with Channel 9 propaganda. What irritates me the most is that message the billboards display right before a train arrives on the platform: ‘Warning Warning Warning Train Arriving On Platform’. I’ve noticed, however, that Channel 9 puts promotion before safety: the current advertisement will run right through before the warning message appears - often the train has already arrived before this happens.

*****

I was craving those 3D’s chips again this week, so I trotted off to the servo to buy some more. (I’m on the Frito-Lay diet, you see). The attendant couldn’t get the item to scan properly.

Attendant: Why won’t it scan? (looks at pack) I haven’t even seen these before.
Me: They’re new, I think.
Attendant: Really? That would explain it. I should have known that.
Me: Actually, it’s sad that I know that.
Attendant: Could you go over and look at the price for me?
Me: Sure. (walks over to chips aisle) They don’t have a price.
Attendant: Oh. Shit. Um, my supervisor isn’t here.
Me: I can get something else if you want.
Attendant: No, no, we’ll find it for you. Uhm uhm uhm uhm… find a bag of chips the same size.
Me: (studies chips) There aren’t any that are exactly the same size.
Attendant: Are you having me on?
Me: No!

This went on for around fifteen minutes, but it was ultimately worth it. Why? Because I found a chip in the bag that was EXACTLY THE SAME SHAPE AS THE SBS LOGO.

This opens up all sorts of new scope for advertising revenue! Perhaps this could be my big break into starting my own organisation: CrispyAds.

Speaking of advertising tie-ins…

*****

Hey, it’s Tori Musset, host of everyone’s favourite shameless soft drink self-promotion vehicle, The Pepsi Chart!

“Hi, and welcome to The Pepsi Chart! (cute giggle) Now on tonight’s show we have (name of Australian dance act struggling to get into the Top 40), and a band who really knows how to party with Pepsi - (name of Australian rock band with high rotation single on Triple J). Plus for the majority of the show, we’re going to play acts from the UK edition of The Pepsi Chart - because they certainly know how to party with Pepsi as well! (cue girls in background holding up drinks which, judging by the amber colour, are definitely not Pepsi)

“Don’t forget, you too can be cool and have pert breasts just like me - but only if you buy Pepsi, Diet Pepsi, 7-Up or Mountain Dew! Or also if you buy one of our Pepsi Chart CD’s!”

(cuts to random graphics of the Pepsi logo spinning around shots of a semi-naked Tori Musset)

“Now it’s time for us to pad out our pissy amount of Australian content by crossing to footage of the UK edition of The Pepsi Chart!”

(scary loud woman clomps into view surrounded by screaming 14 year olds, who are definitely drinking Pepsi)

“Ohhhhhhhhhhh yes, we’ve got plenty more acts over here in the UK. Let’s go and check out which DJ’s are on the top of the charts this week, before we cross to an obscure DJ act which will never see the light of day in Australia! (cuts to shots of screaming girls dancing and badly dubbed crowd cheering)

*****

Four strange things happened at work on Monday.

Strange Thing Number One: I was in the toilets washing my hands, and noticed I had a big booger attempting an evacuation from my left nostril. Unfortunately I was without any tissues or tissue-like material at hand. I ran through my options:

a) Go back into toilets, get toilet paper, wipe nose with that
b) Go back to my desk with my head down, and use one of the tissues there
c) Just dig it out with my finger, ya pussy

Option A was a no-go from the start - there was a guy using the urinal inside the toilets. It’s an unwritten rule that you only visit the personal evacuation area of public toilets once per trip - you could arouse suspicion otherwise.

I quickly decided to go for Option C. Unfortunately the booger proved to have hidden roots, and was rather difficult to coax out. I almost required the aid of a seperate instrument to fully purge my nostril.

I think it was when I had my head close to the mirror, studying my nostril which was pried open with two fingers, when the feared CEO of my company walked into the toilets and shot what was initially an alarmed, then offended look at me. I had never actually seen this guy in person before, let alone been in a toilet with him. I’m so glad I finished my job yesterday.

Strange Thing Number Two: Parappa the Rapper, the DJ Accountant, Know-It-All Paul and myself were all meeting at my desk for a discussion, when Parappa the Rapper noticed some mini spotlights on my desk.

‘Where are those coming from?’ he asked, confounded. The rest of us wanted to know too, most especially because we couldn’t see them at all. However, I noticed some strange pink lights that seemed to move around the room, and Know-It-All-Paul thought the overhead flourescent lights were slowing dimming and brightening.

Strange Thing Number Three: Around one hour later, Parappa the Rapper walked past my desk then did a double take.

Parappa the Rapper: Why are all the cords on the back of your computer orange?
Me: They’re not! They’re blue.
Parappa the Rapper: Um… no, they’re orange.
Me: (studies cords) They’re blue… actually… you could be right. They might be orange. I think my eyes are sore from looking at my monitor all day or something.

Strange Thing Number Four (which explains Strange Things Numbers Two and Three): An announcement came over my work’s PA system that there was a gas leak on my floor. Apparently it was quite close to my work area. Everyone was evacuated and we all got a free taxi home (after waiting for about two hours for enough taxis to actually turn up).

*****

I got a haircut on Thursday. Then again, you get far more than just a haircut nowadays: a haircut usually equals haircut, neck shave, haircare product purchase suggestions, and unconvincing ooohing upon completion of the process.

The guy who shaved my neck on this occasion used one of those giant razor knives instead of clippers. I’m so paranoid about those giant barbershop razors - a mate of mine in high school used to think he was really tough because he used one of those. One evening we were going out with some mates and he was walking around with a towel around his waist, shaving with his barbershop razor. That was, until someone burst into his room quite quickly, flinging the door open. The door hit his hand and the razor lodged itself into his neck. It’s a wonder Gilette haven’t started marketing these to the general public: ‘Gilette - The Best A Man Can - Arrrrgh!’

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