I'd Rather Shadow a Dog.

I moved to California almost two years ago. It took me a little while, but I've done pretty well for myself so far.  I almost gave into those people who predicted I would head back to Nebraska after a few months of fun. Well to 'those people', in the words of the ill-tempered Chris Brown, "Look at me now"! Not you mom- your prediction of California falling into the ocean for being the reason I leave is far different than the others. It hasn't been easy: the money, the interviews, the apartment searching, the giant step I took moving in with the BF after 5 months, the tracker, the traffic, and did I mention the interviews?

During the first six months in California, I almost turned my resume into Sonic and resorted back to the old days when I was the only car hop brave enough to deliver the food while wearing roller skates. Sure, I ran into a few cars while spilling their slushies and chili dogs all over their laps, but the stoppers on skates are totally different than rollerblades. I figured, this might not be the best option since I probably had gotten worse at rollerskating with age. Twenty-one...maybe.


I could've taken my mom's advice, "Claire, why don't ya just go down the street to Starbucks and apply for a position there. They heard they really take care of you there," she said.

Really mom? First of all, there is no Starbucks down the street like you say. It's a Coffee Bean and I highly doubt they take care of you the way Starbucks could. Starbucks- out.

But luckily, I found a job and here I am on my break sitting in the corner of Panera bread drinking an iced tea and eating my own Triscuits and turkey out of a zip lock bag, just to use their wi-fi. I'm still cheap. But, I'd have to say the job search leading up to my current job was one of the most interesting and devastating times in my life.

One of my interviews even took me out in Brentwood for an eight hour day only to walk into businesses and ask to upgrade their phone service while 2 out of 3 times getting escorted off the property by security. It started out with a 45 minute drive to a 'pre-interview' where I met 13-15 sales reps who had their designated territories. I was one of the three people interviewing for a position at the marketing firm and we were all assigned to a sales rep who we would 'shadow'. I was paired with the short blonde, who looked like she was dressed for homecoming, wearing too much make-up, and smelled as if she smoked a shit-ton but covered it up with a very potent fragrance. She was a peach. We got done with our motivational speech from the overly tan, pumped up manager who probably did nothing all day except prepare for the next days motivational speech. I then found myself driving for close to an hour in the stop and go traffic with my new friend, let's call her Beth. She looked like a Beth. We went up and down the streets of Brentwood (a very ritzy neighborhood by the way) into businesses and offices only to be told 'no' and looked at like they were thinking, 'This is seriously your job?' When I saw this face on one of our solicitees, I looked at Beth the exact same way. I started to feel sick, that's how much I hated this 'interview'. I almost called my boyfriend who was an hour away to come pick me up. Instead, I followed little Beth on her quest to check out people's phone bills.

The last building we entered was a large skyscraper type structure filled with multiple offices. There was a security guard's desk at the front. The last building we visited was similar to this one and they did not let us in. You would think this would stop Beth. Luckily, for Beth, the guard must've taken a long lunch because he was not at the front desk. She proceeded to walk at a brisk speed to the elevator. It seems only obvious that when you are looking out for a security guard and walking at a rather fast speed, you might be doing something wrong, not Beth. She went into office after office, unnanounced and unwelcomed. I would try to stay in the hallway, but she would always turnaround to introduce me so I had to step in. If there was a plant or statue, I did my best to hide the skinny way behind it (seeing as I'm rather broad). Finally,  we were headed to the elevators where I was sure we would make an exit. Beth pushed the 'up' arrow!
"Where are we going?" I asked.
"We're gonna go try the next floor, I don't understand why people are being so rude here, it's not normally like this," Beth shared.
"Oh really? It's not, huh," I said sarcastically.
The elevator opened to present the slacking security guard who I blame for my entrance into this building. He asked if we were the girls going to every office soliticing the workers. Beth told him it wasn't soliciting and that she got one follow-up appointment. He asked what we were doing and after he heard Beth's explanation, he continued to define 'soliciting' for us. He escorted us all the way to the Exit of the building where we were kicked out. There's probably a picture of Beth and I in the building entrance banning us to this day. It's of Beth looking at a phone bill and myself, hiding behind a plant.

I continued down the long set of stairs, when I missed a step but since I was hanging on to the railing for dear life, I swung around the rail and landed on my knee. I then told Beth, "I'm not feeling well."

I'd rather shadowed a dog, all day.


Break's over.