Maybe it's not for Robots and Zombies After All
This hedgefund office is freezing. For awhile I thought they kept it at this temperture because of the zombies they employ. It's a little known fact that the undead's flesh will rot if left in the heat. I figured it's cheaper to refrigerate the office for the unpaid zombie workers (the undead aren't really citizens nor are they illegal immigrants, and therefore have no civil liberities. This means you don't have to pay them.) than hiring actual living people to work here.
Now, I realize it's just a nefarious scheme to manipulate me and others into adhering to the dress code.
When I interviewed for this temp job (yes, that's right I had to interview for a job that is only temporary.) the woman who conducted the interview told me they are pretty conservative here. When it comes to dressing we should be wearing blazers. I don't own a blazer. Why? Because I'm not a "career girl," nor am I Diane Keaton circa 1982. But I went to Jersey and borrowed some blazers fromt he eternal career girl, my mother. My mom has a little saying she has told people my whole life, "If I weren't awake during the delivery, I would have sworn they switched babies on me." Which would mean that my father got some other woman pregnant at the same time he got my mother pregnant and they gave birth in the same hospital--because I look just like my dad. My point is the blazers I took from my mother don't fit exactly. I wore them the first week of this job and kind of had a Whoopi Goldberg look happening (except I kept my eyebrows.). I ceased wearing the blazers.
That is until this week when tempertures outside soared into the 90s with 767% humidity. It was hot outside but arctic inside. Meaning I had to wear layers if I was going to be able to nap comfortably in Central Park on my lunch break and not die of hypothermia during the rest of my day. I'm back to the slightly too big blazers.
It's unbelievable what corporate America will stoop to just to have things their way.
And those zombies with the moaning and the trying to eat me, it's un-fucking-bareble.
Now, I realize it's just a nefarious scheme to manipulate me and others into adhering to the dress code.
When I interviewed for this temp job (yes, that's right I had to interview for a job that is only temporary.) the woman who conducted the interview told me they are pretty conservative here. When it comes to dressing we should be wearing blazers. I don't own a blazer. Why? Because I'm not a "career girl," nor am I Diane Keaton circa 1982. But I went to Jersey and borrowed some blazers fromt he eternal career girl, my mother. My mom has a little saying she has told people my whole life, "If I weren't awake during the delivery, I would have sworn they switched babies on me." Which would mean that my father got some other woman pregnant at the same time he got my mother pregnant and they gave birth in the same hospital--because I look just like my dad. My point is the blazers I took from my mother don't fit exactly. I wore them the first week of this job and kind of had a Whoopi Goldberg look happening (except I kept my eyebrows.). I ceased wearing the blazers.
That is until this week when tempertures outside soared into the 90s with 767% humidity. It was hot outside but arctic inside. Meaning I had to wear layers if I was going to be able to nap comfortably in Central Park on my lunch break and not die of hypothermia during the rest of my day. I'm back to the slightly too big blazers.
It's unbelievable what corporate America will stoop to just to have things their way.
And those zombies with the moaning and the trying to eat me, it's un-fucking-bareble.
Comments
Yeah, what is THAT about??? Since when do companies get to interview temps? So lame. Back in the day, they used to be grateful if you just showed up for a temp assignment.
Incidentally, I'm unemployed and though I hate to givve up my sleep to 11 routine I need to make rent. . Can you send the name (just the name) of your hedge fund to solobear35@gmail.com.
The alternative is that I try to mimic the movie Rent and I don't know where I'll find a transvestite with a heart of gold.
When I'm out of here in August I'll drop you a line with the name of the place.
I found your blog last week from the NYC bloggers map (www.nycbloggers.com). I'm an Eastern Parkway-er too!
I LOVED the post about the sub-zero temps in your office. It was really funny, because I've definitely experienced the same thing. In fact, at my last job there was a "career woman" (great term) who tucked herself in for a nap at her desk each day after lunch. She would stretch out, wrap herself in a baby blue blanket and warm her feet with a portable heater stowed under her desk. It was the height of corporate waste or, should I say, "zombieism."
Great blog!
-Justin