I'm pretty much an adult now—this I realized as I rounded my 12th
consecutive hour browsing MySpace last night.

I figure I'm ready for the real world because the novelty of college
is starting to wear off in a big way. I seriously am starting to have
problems relating to college students when I'm put into college-esque
situations. But only ones involving fun.

For example, a few weeks ago, I went to a party. The point of the
party was to cheer for some football team who was having its season
opener. The team's colors were purple and gold. I forgot the other
team's colors, but they apparently weren't as flamboyant because
nobody liked them. Also, they apparently cheated on every play. As I
walked in, dodging kegs and giant football calendars, college kids in
lawnchairs huddled around a TV. The TV sat in the back of a pickup
truck... which was parked in a garage... which was attached to a
house... that had working electricity... and couches.

As I poured myself a beer, the party's host eyed me. I put on a
temporary face of faux confusion and said, OBVIOUSLY joking: "Wait.
Is there a game on tonight, or something?"

Then the party got silent. Even the football players on the screen looked
at me.

"I am going to set your hair on fire," one party-goer told me.

I couldn't really be upset because this was, easily, one of the
coolest threats I've ever heard. And when I was in track, I once heard
a guy say he'd slit another guy's throat with his own shoe. And he
wasn't even wearing track spikes.

As I enter the real world, I guess I'll need a job eventually. The one
thing I can't wait for is the series of job interviews I'm about to
undergo. Most people are scared of job interviews because most people
are not awesome. Losers spend time before an interview focusing on
stupid things like "flaunt experience" and "remember not to wear a
headband." They'll spend hours in front of a mirror practicing some
speech they thought of for days. Come interview day, I'll probably
spend hours in front of the mirror as well, but then at like noon I'll
realize "Oh yeah, I have an interview."

I've decided to take the "straight shooter" approach in my interviews
because I really believe employers generally like smartasses. Which I
probably come off as, except minus the confidence smartasses usually
exude. If I get a feeling I'm being interviewed by a guy who rules
ALMOST as much as I do, I'll shift into this mode.

My plan is to swagger into the interviewer's office, plop down onto a
chair and rest my Chuck Taylors on the interviewer's desk. Then the
interviewer will walk in and tell me to get out of his chair.

"Look," I'd say, reaching into my messenger bag littered with pins
from bands I kinda like. "My info's all here."

Then I'd throw down my résumé which would have a big grease stain on it.

"If you want me (for the job), let's cut the shit so we can get me a
desk with a view," I'd say, resting my arms behind my head. "Whadda ya
say?"

Then cut to me getting thrown out of the building into a horse that's
there for some reason.

I do, of course, realize I'm going to go through a series of bullshit
interviews where the geezer behind the desk is going to be all "where
da résumé!" These are the kinds of interviews I've been through thus
far in my life. They're seldom rewarding and I usually leave halfway
through after faking an asthma attack.

The best job interview I've ever had was at a local tropical fish
retailer. I needed a job and wanted to work anywhere—especially if
that anywhere was a store where my success would hinge upon not
overfeeding a Koi.

Before the interview, I spent about three hours driving around town
trying to find a fish print button-down shirt. You know, to suck up.
Plus I just really needed one so they'd finally let me into The Keg. I
finally found one for $20.

I drove up to the retailer and changed shirts in the car. I proudly
strolled into the store and approached the first employee I spotted.

"Hi, I'm here because I love fish and need a job," I told the
employee, shifting my eyes between him and my own shirt.

"Uhhh," he said.

"I think you know where I'm going with this. I'd have a lot to offer you in th—"

Then I got thrown out of the building into a dumpster.

 ©2005 Tim Landry