First Day/Last Day

So I landed a job, finally after all the hunting, sweating and crying I found something.

The Grad Student found a posting on craigslist and forwarded it to me for a popular Crepes bakery on the lower east side. I sent my resume and promptly got a phone call asking me to interview at ten that evening (the place stays open late!)

I get there and there are at least seven other people interviewing. It is a tiny tiny place and the line goes out the door late at night when the bar lets out. I interview with the owner, turn on the Timmy Wood charm and sure enough she gives me a call later saying I got the job and I would start on Wednesday.

I arrive a little early and wait. I am supposed to get there and train (remember that word it comes into importance later). The owners are well aware that I have never made a crepe in my life they said that wouldn’t be a problem. This guy shows up. He is my age, white guy, looks like he is a model and also somewhat hungover. He is dressed douchey as hell and looks incredibly displeased to see me.

Douche: You here to train?
Me: yes!
Douche rolls eyes.

Douche then begins preparing the tiny restaurant, which only has one table and a small bar with a couple of stools. He doesn’t really tell me what is going on so I try and help where I can. I try and talk to him but he isn’t in the mood. All I get out of him is that he moved to New York from Pittsburgh about six years ago and used to model. I try and ask him more about the crepe place and he just shrugs me off. He starts preparing the food that goes into the crepes. I am just standing and listening, trying to pay attention so that I can remember this stuff for later.

Douche: Why are you standing like that?
Me: like what?
Douche: Like that. You are standing there with your arms folded totally isolating yourself.
Me: I’m listening to what you are saying.
Douche: You shouldn’t stand like that your totally isolating.
Me: How would you like me to stand?

Already we were off to a great start. He then says that he has to do inventory so the owner will finally pay him which she is late on (another great sign) We go upstairs and he starts inventor-ing.

Me: Hey I can help. You want me to just count the stuff over here.
Douche: Can you count sitting down?

I had sat on a stool. I didn’t even have a response to that. Then people came into order crepes, he went to make them, I then did his inventory. I did his work for him, which I was fine with.

He had to make crepe batter, again I thought this would be a good opportunity to know more about this place. He refused to tell me anything about the batters ingredients though claiming he wasn’t allowed to until I was officially hired (which I thought had already happened)

Douche: Just go familiarize yourself with the, I don’t know the stuff in the fridge.
While I did this I got him to talk about himself, which wasn’t hard.

Douche: Yeah, so I started professional acting when I was six years old, doing commercials and stuff like that. Then I got really into competitive swimming and did that for while. I stopped acting because I liked swimming more, from that I got into dance and got into Arthur Murray Dance School. I didn’t like that so much because I always felt like they weren’t really paying attention to me, just always to my partner. About that time I came to New York for a wedding. I was eighteen at the time and thought it was great, called my folks and said I was staying. I started trying to model and I partied a lot. Yeah, I was a club kid. At one time I was making two thousand dollars a week and now I am here making fucking crepes. Pisses me off. I have only been here like four months though.  Anyways, so now I write a lot. I read a lot too, I don’t own a TV though. Hate TV. I like to write poetry. Write now I experimenting with this Chaucer style, like Canterbury Tales, you know what I am talking about? So I am doing that but with an experimental, psychological horror thing with it. It’s really fucking cool. I also write lyrics for rappers, indie rock bands and my friend who does electronica. You’ve probably never heard of them though, they are all local.

I responded to all this as polite as ever.
Oh that’s interesting.
Club Kid, I didn’t realize that movement was going on as recent at six years ago.
What kind of lyrics, oh nice.
etc.

By the remember, he is supposed to be showing me how to make crepes and all. I would try and ask questions about them and he would brush me off. He also would get mad because I would be in the way. He at one point he told me to do the dishes, so I did, and then he said he couldn’t make batter with me there so don’t do the dishes. This went on all day in his condescending tones. He went out and talked on the phone for about twenty minutes with the owners (I assumed it was about his alleged payment he had alluded to earlier) leaving me to fend for myself. Despite having been there for five hours and still not knowing how to do anything.

Douche: actually you can go ahead and leave
Me: What?
Douche: Yeah, they are still interviewing and hiring so you can go.
Me(seeing what is going on here): And why is that?
Douche: I just don’t think you are good fit with us.
Me: I am not a good fit. Why don’t you elaborate on that.
Douche: You don’t have a boss here to look over your shoulder and tell you what to do. You seem like you need to be ordered around. That’s why.
Me: You are supposed to train me!
Douche: You can call the owners tomorrow if you like.
Me: I think I will.
Douche: Oh and I need that hat back.

I through the hat I had borrowed from the place and stormed out of there furiously. This asshole had sabotaged me. He hadn’t trained me and then phoned the owners saying I didn’t know what the hell was going on.  I was so mad I had to just walk until I calmed down, then I called my family, the grad student and my buddies back in Houston. They all allowed me to vent to them. It was very kind of them.

So, I am back on the job hunt. I think my friends and family were right. This is probably a blessing in disguise. Let’s hope I don’t run into the Douche ever again.