Working Girl
That's Me!

Today was my first day of 'work' for a job that I got on Tuesday. I don't think it's actually a job since I'm probably not getting paid, but it's killing time, and I'm getting experience in promotions. I'll tell ya this, though: I don't know who the hell these people are that I'm working for.

I get there at 10 a.m. sharp, and my boss is not there, but this really gruff woman named Jen is. She proceeds to tell me how to use the phones in a really stern tone of voice. I'm sorry, I didn't realize I'd signed on to be a receptionist, as well. Anyhow, I'm working for a company (or whatever you'd call it) called Beacher's Comedy Madhouse. They have an upcoming comedy/karaoke/dancing/contest event coming up, and for my first assignment, they give me a list of contacts to put into a spreadsheet. Eventually my boss arrives after calling me like 5 times in 20 minutes. (And every time he calls me he goes, "What's up, girl?" Eh? Not much, Beacher, just workin' like I'm s'posed ta...)

Sidenote: Yesterday when Beacher calls me to tell me to come into work, we exchange not-so-pleasantries, and he goes "What's the matter, you sound miserable?" The guy is just in a different place than I am, which manifested itself continually throughout the day.

Anyhow, back to the spreadsheets, after I make the list (which I later had to double check, and which Beacher insists on triple-checking tomorrow morning), I have to e-mail about 100 places with this ridiculous press release. I was there for 9 hours, and I seriously only moved twice. Promotions ain't so much for me. Towards the end of the day, Beacher leaves again and gives me a message to give Jen. She comes back and asks me when I'm going to leave. I say "When I leave" because I have no clear-cut place or responsibilities in this company. Then she says, "Well I'm leaving by 7, so I'd suggest you do the same." Um, okay Jen.

Other interesting, though non-sequiturial (new word!) tidbits. There's another intern (or something; none of us really have titles), and her entire job for the entire day was to call people and set up internship interviews; seriously, she did this for, like, 8 hours. How many interns do they need? Later, I'm sitting in my desk next to Beacher, who is always on the phone spattering out the F-word like a mafioso, and he's talking to one of his friends, and I distinctly hear him say, "I wanna bang her." Towards the middle of the afternoon, he stops calling me girl and starts saying, "What's up, freak?" I'm like "Still workin'," to which he responds, "You're amazing. You can't be distracted." Well, yes, my friend, it's called getting the job done. Did I mention the man's a comedian; I didn't laugh once today, and he even asked me if I have a sense of humor at one point. I honestly didn't know how to respond. If I'd been filling out one of the 100-question Blockbuster part-time employment applications, I'd say "Strongly agree.
but when I'm around this goon (my boss), all I could mutter was "Sometimes..."

So, I sound a lot more disliking of the job than I actually am. It's just such a weird operation. I think Beacher has rich parents. How else could this character open and run a successful business in such a ghetto fashion?

On the plus side, we're next to a company called Martian Entertainment that is composed solely of gay men, and I get to hear them gabbing and singing Toni Braxton's entire catalogue all day. They're the people responsible for Naked Boys Singing, one of the most enjoyable shows on or Off-Broadway today.

So tomorrow, I return to 'work'. It's good that I'm getting somewhat back in a schedule, but then again I'm really not. Tomorrow I'm going to go into my second day of work and tell Beacher that I only want to come in one day next week. Funny thing is, I don't think he'll really care... and if even 3 of the 37 interns that they're interviewing in the next couple of days joins the lolligag of people at BCM, I'm probably all set. Sheesh...