The Job Interview: The Hook Up (Revised and Lengthened) (887 hits)
Category: Humor -> Dumb JobsRating: -1.21 on 16 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by <suburbanator350.at.hotmail.com> (View user info) at 2005-12-01 17:30:16 EST
I DIDN'T REALIZE I DIDN'T GET IT ALL COPIED AND PASTED BEFORE, SO HERE'S THE FIRST PART REVISED AND LENGTHENED, THERE WILL BE MORE INSTALLMENTS, ENJOY...
"Dude, sorry to hear you lost your truck driving job," Stones said over the cell phone.
"Yeah, biggest pisser is that I really don't have a place to go."
"Where you at? I'll come get you. I know somebody who could put you to work."
"Doing what?"
"Odd jobs that can utilize your skills. Dress appropriately and, uh, bring a roscoe."
This worried me; my skills consist of driving anything that has two or more wheels, shooting things, operating heavy equipment, and telling very bad jokes. No combination of these makes for any kind of a good job. Well, I can ski and play soccer pretty well, but are these really the type of skills a prospective employer might look for? Not unless they are Peekaboo Street or Pele.
Bring a roscoe? What the hell kind of work did he have in mind?
And 'Bring a roscoe?' What nineteen thirties mobster movie was he living in?
Unfortunately the smallest "roscoe" I had at my disposal is my Uzi. I swapped out the sixteen-inch barrel for the nine inch barrel and loaded in a thirty-two round magazine, packing another two in my jacket pocket.
Now as for dressing appropriately, I figured this wasn't your typical job interview, so a suit was out of the question. Besides, I hate suits, wearing a tie is like tying a noose around my neck, not exactly the way to start the day.
I heard the jingling of a collar and looked up from my wardrobe as Bob walked in the room. (Yeah, my dog's name is Bob, and what of it? She won't answer to anything else and she doesn't seem to mind the name.) This was good, because she is a good listener and offers her opinion when needed, like what I'm going to wear at certain times. That dog has saved me from many a fashion faux pas on first dates.
I tried on a pair of jeans with a knit polo. Bob and I both thought this was fine, but the jeans were a little tight; I wonder why; it couldn't have been because of all the healthy truck stop food, they seemed to have shrunk in the closet. Tight jeans can be a bit uncomfortable.
Next I tried my sweats, but they are a little too relaxed and well, the problem I've always found is that while I'm wearing sweats, and a pretty girl walks by, everybody can tell I like her. I tend to, ah, point at her.
Bob looked at me funny with my next outfit. Real funny. I agreed with her. The flowery white dress was a just wrong for so many reasons, like first off, I am a guy, secondly a light-weight, flowey dress before Memorial Day? What the Hell was I thinking?
Plus the under-wire from the bra was digging into my sides and the pantyhose itched my legs.
Then the thought occurred to me that a guy walking around in a dress might be a bit more intimidating. If he's got the cajones to wear a dress, you might not want to mess with him. Then, thankfully, I thought better of it.
I finally decided on a pair of black fatigue trousers with Hi-Tech Trooper boots and an Iron Maiden T-shirt. I fixed the sling on the Uzi and slung it inside the left side of my jacket, ready for easy draw. I also strapped my custom seven-inch Ka-Bar to my belt, "just-in-case." I also brought along my small back pack, loading it with a couple of Lemon-Lime Gator-Aids, some Corn-Nuts and a few C.D.s with my potable MP3 player. I wasn't sure what to expect with Stones, I might be doing some waiting.
Stones came by and picked me up in one of his many rides. As much as I despise using the term, Stones' ride is more "bling-bling" than anything you'd find in L.A. or New York. A new Cadillac Avalanche thing. What the Hell was Caddy thinking with this vehicle anyway? Who was their target consumer? Stones' version came with thirty inch spinning rims on twenty-eight inch tires. Everything trimmed in silver chrome. It even has hydraulics on each corner to make it "dance." Basically what the "boyz-n-tha-hood" might have you think is the standard equipment. Now what is really screwy with Stones, and what seems to mess with said "Boyz-n-da-hood," is that he blares country music through his 2000 watt stereo system.
"Dude, how can you stand to listen to this lame-assed country morning show? Who the hell calls themselves 'Mud-flap?'"
"What? They're funny."
"I'll show you funny," I said. I turned the stereo over to one of Denver's classic rock stations, "Lewis and Floorwax, now these guys are funny."
"Yeah, and who the hell calls themselves 'Floorwax.' Far lamer than 'Mud-flap."
"Dude, you don't knock on Floorwax that way. Man, that's just something you don't come back from, I mean c'mon, listen to the guy, he's hilarious.
"And how can you stand to listen to this craptacular so-called 'music?' And I use the term 'music' very loosely, as a kinda-sorta-but-not-really musician, I find Country an insult to the rest of the music industry. No feeling, no depth, no complexity, nothing but pure crap with a twang and steel guitar."
"Oh, and that 'kill your mother,' 'burn in hell' stuff is better?"
"Man, that is such a stupid stereotype of metal. Think about this; Charlie Daniels Band has a song called 'Devil went Down to Georgia,' right?"
"Yeah, but that song isn't Satanic like your stuff."
"To Hell it isn't. If anything, that song is more Satanic than anything my metal bands ever put out. The song is about a guy who makes a deal with the devil. Actually confronts him and makes a deal. And if that wasn't bad enough, they had to go and make a sequel to the song, more devil dealings." I love getting into this conversation with country loving idiots; they get so excited and defensive about it.
"But he kicks the Devil's but in the fiddle contest! Proving that good is better than evil!"
"That's not the point though now is it, the fact is he makes a deal with the Devil. And weather he beats the Devil is open to interpretation, most people I've talked to say the Devil's fiddle playing is far better."
Stones made a face
"And what about Reba?" I asked.
"Don't go knockin' Reba, now, that's treading on thin ice there."
"Oh, what about the song 'Fancy'? Some lady takes her daughter, dresses her up and tells her to go prostitute herself for money, yeah, there's some real high morals there."
This is my favorite part of this argument, when the country fan gets all red in the face.
"That's not the point of the song!" Stones' voice was extra high at this point, and some kind of vein was bulging in his neck.
"You'll see, dude. This individual is a connection of mine; they'll take people, uh, with special skills and puts them to work according to those skills. Pays real well, too."
That's the funny thing about ol' Stones; the guy always has "connections." I've only known the guy for about six years, and he's actually a really good guy, nothing fake about him. Despite his ride, he's not one of those rich, spoiled white guys who tries to act all "thuggy-gang-banger-wannabe." And for what it's worth, his "connections" are always pretty legitimate people. Sometimes they might be a bit shady, but are otherwise all right. He does do a bit of looking into them before he associates himself with somebody, he doesn't want to hook up with any Al-Quida assholes or anything like that.
"Ok, but man, this better be some long term work, I hate having several jobs on my resume over such a short amount of time"
"Don't worry, dude, this person is cool. We'll go meet them later on today. Oh hey, check it out," he said pointing to some kids standing on the street, "Those kids are taggers, let's have some fun."
He drove his Caddy around the block and we parked in a way that we could watch these punks deface public property without them noticing us watching them.
"What? Are you gonna beat the shit outta them or something?" Now Stones didn't get his name for being a brave man, or "having stones" as the saying goes, nor is he a stoner, although he takes a hit every now and again, but no, he got his name for having passed two kidney stones before he was even thirty years old.
"No, I'm not gonna waste my time taking them down, but I will fuck with them a bit."
We waited a bit for the kids to finish their tags, and then Stones grabbed a paint marker from his center console.
"Wait here and keep an eye out for me," he said as he got out and ran over to the tags the kids had just painted.
Five minutes later Stones came running back to the truck, laughing his ass off. He hopped in, put the truck in drive and drove past the graffiti. That's when I saw what he was laughing at. The names were tagged in the typical fashion, spray painted in modified forms of what looks like letters usually associated with the English language. All appeared to be some sort of nickname, followed by Stones' additions. So where 'To-Dog' sprayed his name, Stones added "takes it up the ass." 'M.C. Mick' "likes the cock," and 'Big J' seems to "suck doggie-dick," and the lone female of the group, 'Kat Brat,' "uses a strap-on to pile drive 'Krome-Dome,'" the last of the tags on the wall. Stones had a way of amusing himself in ways that the rest of us never understood.
We drove around for a while, grabbing a bite to eat, cruising Downtown and what not, but Stones was evasive about the type of work that this person had, so we returned to our default topics of conversation about cars, chicks, four wheeling and the sexual habits of snails in a hailstorm.
User Reviews
Submitted by Bubba2341 (user info) at 2005-12-02 19:39:15 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Otter (user info) at 2005-12-01 21:08:31 (#)
Ranking: 0
Look, you fucknuts...when a text is typed out on MicroSoft word, everything looks perfectly normal, everything's all in order, with the spaces in all the right places, so rather than critisize something, especially without reading it, use that grey spounge locatewd in betwixt yer ears and decifer it for yourself. I'm not gonna do all the work for you myself.
______________________________________________________________________
Either ask Bart to change it or accept the -2s. Simple, huh?
Submitted by Fabit (user info) at 2005-12-02 09:02:28 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Jolly-O old Bean.
Submitted by jgreening (user info) at 2005-12-02 00:44:59 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
shit
Submitted by stardamage (user info) at 2005-12-01 23:59:23 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
Submitted by Kindred (user info) at 2005-12-01 20:37:43 (#)
Ranking: -1
Submitted by Saxon (user info) at 2005-12-01 19:02:26 (#)
Ranking: -1
Its like looking at the pubic hair of a 60 year old woman, you know in there somewhere is something of value but you just cant be fucked taking the time.
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Why don't senior citizens perform oral sex on each other ?
Ever try to pull apart a cold grilled cheese sandwich.
Hold on to that feeling you just got. The one where the full visualization formed in your mind. That's the feeling this post gave me.
.......
AAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
Submitted by Otter (user info) at 2005-12-01 21:08:31 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Look, you fucknuts...when a text is typed out on MicroSoft word, everything looks perfectly normal, everything's all in order, with the spaces in all the right places, so rather than critisize something, especially without reading it, use that grey spounge locatewd in betwixt yer ears and decifer it for yourself. I'm not gonna do all the work for you myself.
Submitted by Kindred (user info) at 2005-12-01 20:37:43 EST (#)
Ranking: -1
Submitted by Saxon (user info) at 2005-12-01 19:02:26 (#)
Ranking: -1
Its like looking at the pubic hair of a 60 year old woman, you know in there somewhere is something of value but you just cant be fucked taking the time.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Why don't senior citizens perform oral sex on each other ?
Ever try to pull apart a cold grilled cheese sandwich.
Hold on to that feeling you just got. The one where the full visualization formed in your mind. That's the feeling this post gave me.
Submitted by Bubba2341 (user info) at 2005-12-01 20:21:05 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
You've been around a LONG time. I'd think after all this time you
would have learned how to edit after you cut and paste. Well, maybe not. . .
Submitted by Saxon (user info) at 2005-12-01 19:02:26 EST (#)
Ranking: -1
Its like looking at the pubic hair of a 60 year old woman, you know in there somewhere is something of value but you just cant be fucked taking the time.
Submitted by redskieslookfake (user info) at 2005-12-01 18:29:22 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
Formatting prevented me from scarring myself more. Some small mercy there I guess.
Submitted by WiKi (user info) at 2005-12-01 18:18:48 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
My EYES are bleeding..
DEAR GOD, MY EYES ARE BLEEDING!!!
..and I think my head just exploded.
I hate you.
Submitted by Dead_0hi0_Sky (user info) at 2005-12-01 17:55:21 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
didn't read it.
Submitted by DrSeussman (user info) at 2005-12-01 17:47:25 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
Horribly painful read, I want those few minutes back fucker. OH yeah and another thing
learn
how
to
hit
your
ENTER
key
FUCKSTICK
Submitted by FATMANTPK (user info) at 2005-12-01 17:41:56 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Otter.....I'm pregnant!
WHAT?
I sold one AR, but bought another because I found a killer deal on one. Also, I now have my CCW. Be afraid...very afraid.
Drop me a line - HorseTrader.at.gmail.com
Submitted by scourge (user info) at 2005-12-01 17:38:46 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
You seem to nkow how to use the shift button. That's a start. Now use the one right above it. The one I'm hitting
Now.
Submitted by wardy (user info) at 2005-12-01 17:31:28 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
three blocks of text? maybe it was more... i fell over from the dizziness and cracked my skull on this boxset of 'america's funniest home videos'... fuck you.
Submitted by Xcuses (user info) at 2005-12-01 17:31:13 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
too hard to read
Try a THIRD time why dontcha...