retail shmetail

So, I went on a job interview today. Looked well-dressed, but not too well-dressed. (See previous blog about fashion requirements.) Wore high heels, but switched them out for the flip-flops I conveniently hid in my purse until after the interview was over and I was out the door. Ah, Florida.

Interview wasn't too difficult, just your run of the mill questions about availability, previous work experience and such. And you know, it has become apparent that teaching has really given me the opportunity to become a fabulous on-the-spot bullshitter. For instance, my boss might say "So, Ms. L-, what does this diagnostic data in comparison with last year's GPA for student Joe Bob tell you?" to which I would instantly reply, "Let's see...his scores are high, yet his grades are low. Clearly, Joe Bob is in need some organizational strategies in combination with and effort to enhance his intrinsic motivation. I believe he would benefit best in a classroom where differentiated instruction happens daily, so he does not become disengaged and elect to be unsuccessful." Which is a fancy way of saying, Joe Bob is a lazy, hormonal monster. (And has mean parents...who names a kid Joe Bob???)

So, I was a little surprised when the girl doing my interview asked me a question that left me all-a-fluster! We were chatting about previous work experience (she wanted only to know about my full-time work when I was in school, not the my current career) when she says, "So. You don't have any retail experience."

Well, duh.

Thus, I began to panic. How is it possible that I, Captain Overachiever of the Super Success Squad, did not prepare an explanation to compensate for my obvious lack of t-shirt folding capabilities?!?!

Naturally, I bust out with something idiotic. Teaching hasn't been able to help me this oral issue yet.

"Well, no. I do not have retail experience. But I have a college degree."

As if this matters to someone looking to hire a person to run a register, open dressing rooms, and sell jeans. For what I doubt pays more than $7.50 an hour.

Oh well. Tomorrow, on advice from good friend Steph, I will call Sylvan. A place where my education-lingo-twisting will prove much more useful.

Until payday,
WG

p.s. HEY - where is my Capt. Overachiever cape?? I have held this position my entire life, yet, no cape. Or fancy underwear to wear as outerwear. Ripoff.

worth the one cent (edited)

Do you click on my google ads?

You should.

resumes and pantyhose

I have an interview at Buckle this coming Tuesday. I haven't had a job interview in a long time! The last time I interviewed anywhere was straight out of college, looking for teaching jobs in 04. I am also a bit intimidated by the company's website statement: "The Buckle is looking for enthusiastic, ambitious individuals who possess a flair for fashion and strong communication skills to become sales teammates."

Am I enthusiastic? Yes. Ambitious? Yes. A strong communicator? Yes.

But do I posess a flair for fashion????

Don't get me wrong. This is not "I don't have to the cool clothes" high school syndrome part deux. I know I have my own style. I am not going to try and describe it...I just know I wear things I like. I just don't know if I wear this stores particular style. Which is good for the budget - I won't be tempted to use the employee discount to any extreme. But they do sell some kick ass jeans. Also, what can I wear to my interview that will illustrate my flair for fashion??

I hope I am not thinking this much over something that will pay my only $6.50 an hour.

Until payday,
WG

MY GOAL!

Well....I didn't buy any clothes in the month of May! I resisted every temptation. I avoided every sale. I drove past my favorite stores. I...

I...

I went shopping today.

Technically, it is June 1st. I just could not resist any longer. I did set some boundaries, though. I told myself I couldn't spend more than $50. I went to ROSS (which I usually avoid, because I don't like digging through the racks) and spend $40.27 on two shirts, one pair of jeans and a dress. I figured $40 on five things I will definitely wear more than once isn't too bad.

Yes, it is $40 I could have paid on my credit card. Yes, it is $40 further away from my goal of paying down my debt.

But the dress is really, really cute.

Until payday,
WG

To-Do List

Being out of work for two months (occupation hazard) leaves lots of free time. Here is what I plan to do today:

1. Post Office. MUST mail the modem back to Internet company that had horrible service and was useless. Also, need to fill out change of address form...for some reason, my parents keep getting my mail!
2. Bank. Need to deposit tax return check that has been burning a hole in my pocket.
3. Mall. Fill out applications for jobs that I never had as a teenager but always wanted.
4. Goodwill. Check and see if they have any cheap kitchen table and/or chairs...it's been a year since I've lived in my house and am still without seating in that room.
5. Eyebrow wax. Going out with my girls tonight, and I can't exactly execute the "look up, look down, aim" technique of tempting a man with two caterpillars on my forehead. It's a $7 indulgence this working girl can't give up.
6. Laundry. The cat almost suffocated herself in the dirty clothes pile this morning.
7. Vacuum. Summer = dog shedding = my carpet going from tan to black.
8. Gas station. Crying at the pump for paying over $3 a gallon is imminent.
9. Grocery store. Yea! Got $5 off Publix coupon in the mail yesterday. Perfect timing.
10. Shave. Hairy legs are so last season.

Until payday,

WG

cheap date

Jax Beach is the best place for free entertainment. Over Memorial Day, we stumbled upon JB's hidden night-life gem for ditch dwellers. Billy's Boathouse on Beach Blvd (near the marina) is the redneck epitome of a diamond in the rough. The conch fritters were fried to perfection and our waitress kept the cold beer flowing - I didn't even dock her tip for sporting an "I Heart FSU" tank top. AND - not only did we get to see the inner workings of a drug ring and amateur stripping...we did it to the musical styling of "Big Red" (a red-headed AARP-flag-waving rockin' guitarist in a wheelchair). This eclectic mix of half-dressed locals and PVBers who pulled up on yachts is only available in the 904 area code.

I know you wish I had Red's picture, but S and I are much cuter. Trust me.

i should star in the next geico caveman commercial

Today could have been so much worse.

I have been SO GOOD about not spending extraneous money. I haven't bought any clothes this month (only 3 days to go) minus the eight dollar shoe incident. I haven't spent money on any "extras" except for gifts (one of which I even returned). Even though the budget has been tight, I've still managed to go out (last Friday from 3pm to 1am...only spent $8) with friends. So...imagine my horror upon horrors when I'm in Target trying to decide if the 7oz $1.94 Target brand shaving cream is a better deal than the 9.3oz $2.24 Skintimate Shaving Lotion when I hear:

Will the owner of a white Acura Integra with a Florida Alumni license plate please come to guest services?

My brain: Shit. Macura. Shit. Shit. Shit. Also - you are not wearing underwear. Shit!

Upon arriving at the front desk, the security guard informs me that I forgot to put on my parking brake and my car has rolled into someones truck!!! Instantly, I am very embarrassed and quite suddenly aware of the fact that, as the brain said, I am indeed not wearing any underwear. Target is cold.

I go out to the parking lot, profusely apologizing to the security guard. Then I meet the guy whose truck my parked vehicle rolled into. I immediately begin apologizing to him, and trying to explain how I only planned to be in the store for a minute and I was probably just distracted. I kept repeated my apology, but all the guy could do was lecture me about how important it is to use the parking brake. As if seeing the front of my car nudged against the front of his wasn't enough evidence. Literally, the conversation went like this for about five minutes:

Me: I'm so sorry! Really, I am. I'll pay for the damage.
Guy: You need to remember to put on your parking brake.
Me: You're right, sir. Again, let me tell you how sorry I am.
Guy: Well, next time use the brake. And don't leave your car in neutral.
Me: I know. I never do this. I'm so sorry. Really, very sorry.
Guy: Don't be sorry. Use the brake.
Me: Do you want me to pay for the scrape on your truck?
Guy: No. I want you to use the parking brake.

Just as I am about to explain, politely, how much I wish I was able to retroactively go back and use the parking brake, the knight in shining armor Target security guard says, "Well, sir, if you don't want her insurance information, perhaps you should just continue with your day."

Then the guy gets in his truck and looks at his wife, who mouths the word "stupid idiot" at me. And all I can do is stand there, holding down my skirt which is blowing around in the wind, threatening to prove how truly idiotic I am for not only letting my car roll into someone else's, but for wearing a skirt on a windy day and forgetting to put on underwear.

Even though the lecture from the truck driver wasn't exactly appealing, I'll accept it since it meant I didn't have to pay for any damage! His wife, however, can kiss my luscious, bare ass.

Until payday,
WG