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Resp Ispa Laquotir before/after I stopped my vigilance for the parking pricks yesterday, to get ready for my job interveiw, which apparently consisted of wondering how many times I have jerked off and being late, and I got another parking ticket. I will soon owe my ass to the city. I have a small pile in my passenger's seat. Fuck em'. I was fifteen minutes late to the interview. I wore soft black leather shoes, bluejeans, white collared button-down shirt, black sport coat, blue paisely tie, and jet black sunglasses. (I've worn that look to court before, when I had to provide testimony in the numerous cases I worked on at the resedential center, which usually consisted of, "No, your honor, so-and-so has made progress, but still needs to work on some things.") I hurtled up into the mountains, out of the Denver smog, and found the place in short order, nestled in the bosom of Mt. Evans. Its a nice treatment facility for 6-13 year olds. Non-adjudicated kids. Kids with behavior problems, but not felons, or even criminals. They made me fill out their resume, and I went in to see the director. Everyone was wearing sweatshirts and jeans, or sweat-pants. Boots. I knew I could have dressed down, thinking I did a little with the blue-jeans, but I tend to forget the environment of most RTC's. Better to be over-prepared, I guess. She had read my resume while I filled out their application. She started the interveiw by seeing if the schedules would co-incide, as the whole point of this is to enable me to go back to school. It was then that I could tell by her non-verbals and para-verbals that I was in like flynn. "Well, the schedule matches up. Ooookayyy!" Of course I was. I am so overqualified for this position its unreal. Anyone at an RTC would be half crazed not to hire me. Its a small facility. Maybe 45 kids. Fifteen staff. Very...intimate. It was something I thought of when I was a groupleader, and a place I thought of applying at when I first moved out here. Up in the mountains, little kids, not too much stress. (compared to working with multiple felons and their families, no, its not that much stress--so fuck you and your baby-sitting job.) And I did like working with kids. Kids were always the easy part, its the adults that suck. (listen to me, I used to consort with Known Felons and Other Criminals) And I will have little responsibility in this position. Still haven't decided. It is an overnight position, and I would work thursday, friday, saturday and sunday nights. Meaning no funtime for argentum But I would ostensibly be on the path to Making More Money. So maybe I've had enough fun for a little while. I don't know. Perhaps not. Certainly puts a crimp in the dating possibilities. No one wants to go out with a guy only on wednsdays, and will not be there on weekend nights. But its part of a path that I need to take, or otherwise be a poor schlep. I don't know. After the interview, I eschewed saying hi to the kids in favor of eating. I went to Kermit's, a biker bar. Inside, instead of bikers, was a few people with too much money, too much time, and little sense. I ate my food in relative quiet and left. I paused outside, put on my jet black shades, and roared off into the hills. I've got until Tuesday to make up my mind. That is when I go in to observe, and give a final answer. This weekend I will drink and think. I would also like to pause and take a moment to mourn the passing of George Harrison, part of one of the greatest bands the world has seen, the Beatles. resp ispa laquotir--say nothing but good about the dead.
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