|
|
<$BlogRSDURL$> Archives
|
My I.Q. is brighter than her hair colour. That's right ladies and gentlemen. And that is what I said.So I applied for a job with Bacardi Rum as a promotional specialist hitting up the hottest patios in Calgary for 6 weeks. Not a bad gig, meet some random people, make some extra money, and hang out on the patio. What is not fun about that? Let me tell you. I went for an informative session meeting and sat in a room with about 12 other ladies. Now, these ladies were about- oh- maybe pushing seventeen years of age. I walked into this room, knee high khaki skirt, black turtleneck and a pair of pumps. I was looking professional, these other girls were dressin' the part of being professional- just in a different type of profession as me. (Are ya pickin' up what I am puttin' down?) Anyways, these girls talked about their most memorable experiences in a bar which included such scenes as "I was laid on a table in a bar", "I don't remember I was sooooo drunk- it must have been sooooooo good!", etc. My turn came around and I enlightened the ladies with my stories of working for the CFL being a hostess to the BC Lions and the Montreal Aloutettes. I think I beat them in that question period- see, my winning charm was the fact that I REMEMBERED MY EXPERIENCES. I was surrounded with fake boobs, fake nails, fake hair- and caked on make-up. I was real. All real. 110% real. I was embarrassed for the ladies in this room obviously SO desperate for a job, they needed to show off their boobs for some money. There are easier ways to get money ladies. So after an hour of listening to some really really tiring skanky stories, the question came up which obviously had the easiest answer. " Why do you want to work for Bacardi?" Answers came up which were as simple-minded as "I want to get paid to hand out drinks to hot guys", "I want to be able to do practically nothing and get paid for it", "I'll show you my boobs if you give me a job!" That was it. I had it. It was finally my turn and I wasn't going to be quiet. "Quite frankly, I believe my iq is higher than all you ladies' put together. I have been embarrassed to sit in this room and listen to you talk about absolutely nothing. I do not want this job because I do believe I am better than this. Oh- and my boobs are real- and no, I am not showing you". And with that, I stood up and started walking towards the door. "You're not going anywhere" - so says the instructor. "I want you to be the project manager for this 6-week operation". I just about fell over. The girls had a look of confusion and a look of disgust on their faces. This dude was just smiling at me- somewhere, I knew he was thinking the same thing as me. It is sad that girls will be girls and will use that to their advantage. I am sickened. I am totally disgusted. These girls will show off their chests for a little money. I know I was raised better than that. Posted by Bella at 3:35 PM# 0 Comments:
|
