The account that follows is fictional. Except for the events that actually happened.
Being that I am in need of a job, I happened upon a job fair. Not jut any job fair, but one located in Charlottesville, Va. Thats right, the land of the wahoos. So after carefully considering my options, I figured that I could use this opportunity to have some boozy fun, as well as get some promising job leads. I decided to keep track of my three days, two nights in Charlottesville. The words that follow are the account of my odyssey into the depths and back out again.
Wednesday, February 7, 2007.
2:00 p.m. - After being up until about five in the morning, I finally rise to greet the morning. Uh, I mean mid-afternoon. It's a hard life. A list of things to do, then its off to Charlottesville.4:45 - Burned some CD's (Cee-Lo's Cee-Lo Green is the Soul Machine and a mix to fire me up before the job fair, including Queen's 'I Want it All', in case you were wondering), and now I am going to walk over to the the bar near my house to grab some stuff I left there yesterday.
4:49 - While at the pub, I run into a friend of mine working on a happy hour pitcher of Amber Bock. I grab my stuff and on my way out, it happens. He asks if I want a beer. After a small (read: no) moment of hesitation, I accept. Can't let him go it alone on a pitcher.
4:53 - First glass done, still beer in the pitcher. I guess another won't hurt. I still have plenty of time to get to the hotel.
5:12 - Somewhere in between pitchers, a pinball game and a couple of pool games have taken place, and another pitcher of Amber Bock gets ordered. Uh-oh, this could be trouble.
6:21 - Still at the bar, working on who knows what number pitcher. I am feeling pretty good, and not even packed.
6:48 - Feeling no pain, I finally leave the place. I grab my suit and all of its accouterments, hoping I don't forget anything expensive, and toss it into the car.
I start to leave, then stop. I pull back into my driveway and grab my black dress shoes. That was close.
7:07 - Luckily I remembered to stop and get gas, since I was close to empty. Grabbed a few Red Bulls for the trip. Something tells me that I am going to need them.
9:29 - I pull into the hotel parking lot. I realize that I picked the wrong Comfort Inn. Instead of the one that is literally two blocks from the place I need to be, I'm five exits away. Shit.
10:12 - Relaxed for a bit, no its time to go out. Something tells me that there's trouble a-brewin', and its up to me to either join in or start up
10:54 - After a brief practice run to the job fair site (who knows how many brain cells I could lose tonight), I find a local bar.
10:56 - Decide to start out slow. Order a fatty of Newcastle and sit at the bar, watching some ESPN. I slowly look around to get a sense of my surroundings.
A table in the corner has a couple sitting and minding their own business. Next.
Two guys sit at a center table, toasting and doing shots all around. They are loud, they are decked out in UVA apparel, and most importantly, none of them are over 5'10". We've got a live one.
11:14 - A few beers down, that buzz I had while driving is coming back and I'm energized again. A Red Bull and vodka makes it official, and its time for the liquor.
Jack Daniels makes its first tasty appearance upon my palate, accompanied by his longtime companion, Mr. Coca-Cola.
11:58 - I notice that two of the guys have greek letters, one with a hat, one with a T-Shirt. It's kind of funny: one has a fraternity hat with a UVA Shirt, the other a lettered shirt with a UVA hat. Did they plan this?
Thursday, February 8
12:07 a.m. - I go and bum a smoke and start some small talk. Shots and beers ensue.12:?? - I am drunk.
1:45 - I am assuming this is when I left because this is he typical time of last call in Virginia. But then again, you know what happens when you assume.
8:45 - Some really annoying song starts coming from my phone. Good thing I set the alarm before I went out. Once I reach for the phone, I quickly realize that it is a very bad thing.
I am sleeping in all of my clothes, and since my shoes are with me in bed, I assume they were on at some point too. I stumble to the bathroom of my room, and my lack of balance tells me that I'm still pretty drunk.
I crave the nectar, ice-cold water. It cuts through the dryness that is my mouth and tastes sweeter than any candy.
8:47 - My head is pounding like a jackhammer, and I wonder why I am shivering. turns out the reason is twofold.
One: I (I hope it was me) turned off the heat last night. Also, my body is getting ready to purge itself of some toxins. I head to the toilet.
8:51 - Toxins purged. I have nothing solid inside of my body. The cold tile of the bathroom floor is the greatest thing I have ever felt. Five more minutes, then I'll shower.
9:02 - I'm out of the shower, and now recovery mode has officially begun. What is it about stubble that immediately makes you look ten times more hungover that you actually are? Since I'm hungover as shit, I look like I died about three weeks ago.
9:07 - Eye drops, aftershave, and mouthwash bring me back to the land of the living. Time to get dressed. I hope I didn't puke on anything.
9:08 - Well, I forgot something. Two things actually. Call it two and a half. I forgot under shirts, and the one I have on is a bright green Guinness shirt. That eliminates my white shirt. Also, no belt. Also, I took the wrong suit jacket. Beautiful.
9:17 - I am as together as I'm going to get. I grab my shit, and head to my car.
9:18 - My car seems to be persona non grata. I don't know if thats a good thing or a bad thing. Hopefully, I just didn't drive home. I go back to my room and search my pants.
I find a credit card receipt for a cab, printed at 2:34 in the morning. At least I tipped the guy well. I call the front desk and arrange for a cab. I now have T-minus 42 minutes to find my car and get about fifty copies of my resume printed out. Well, I love a challenge.
9:29 - Cab is here, I direct him to the bar I was at last night. On the way, I ask him if he drove me last night. He seems amused at this, but gives the negative.
I tell him that I might have to get in touch with dispatch if my car isn't at the bar. If there is any justice in this wild and crazy world of ours, it will be there.
9:42 - Found the car. Sitting in the spot I parked at. Awesome. I leave another great tip (If I do say so myself), and get in my car. Step one is complete.
Time to meander across campus to try and find a Kinko's. I think about grabbing some breakfast, but the nausea that ensues knocks that notion off of the board.
10:27 - Found a Kinko's, got the copies of my resume. Time to find the parking garage.
10:46 - Parked, and now I'm ready to find me a job. Maybe.
10:51 - Had to take the stairs three floors to the ballroom. I start coughing like a 3-pack a day smoker, and more bad news, I'm stating to get the greasy hangover sweats. The stench of sour mash is exuding out my pores as I head in.
1:14 p.m. - Despite smelling like a distillery, I manage to land a few interviews. 8:30, 9:00, 9:30 and 2:00. Just about the worst combination ever.
I have to get up really early and stay really late. Considering my checkout time is at eleven, this is not looking good. Ah, fuck it. Job fairs are a strange thing. There are tons of tables in a big room, and first you introduce yourself to an employer, and tell them why you want to work in their county. Then you go to the next one and tell them the exact same thing.
1:35 - I can finally bring myself to have something to eat. Arby's is just the ticket.
1:48 - I am now officially lost on my way home. This day is getting better and better.
2:16 - Found the hotel, I barely make it inside before all the lights go out. Screw doing research for the interviews tomorrow, I'm taking a much needed nap.
6:18 - I wake up for the second time today, and it feels much better than the first.
Jump in an incredibly hit shower, which washes the last vestiges of last night from me. Since I am feeling much better, it's time for some dinner, and of course, drinks.
6:57 - Found a good, old time Charlottesville pub called Applebee's. These local places are great.
After a delightful glass of Amber Bock (seems to be a pattern here), I order a steak and my new favorite drink, Love on the Rocks.
Jack Daniels and myself won't be meeting this evening, he has already worn out his welcome. Love on the Rocks, by the way, is tequila on the rocks. That's how I do.
7:06 - The tequila has given me a lovely warm glow. I watch some college basketball and debate whether or not I want to get into trouble tonight. It could go either way.
7:11 - Another Love on the Rocks arrives. I make it my business to polish it off before my steak comes, I'll need wine for that one.
7:14 - Done. I order a nice Shiraz for the steak.
7:18 - The steak comes, if you can call it that. Sometimes these local pubs don't get the best meat. The wine is delicious though, and another glass quickly makes the steak palatable.
7:42 - That was alright. I pay my check and make my way over to the bar to begin the night for realsies.
I cleanse the palate with a glass of Cutty Sark on the rocks.
7:56 - Pay my tab, head back to my hotel. I have no idea what I am going to do tonight, and its still way to early to go to sleep. At least there are some basketball games on.
8:49 - As I watch another basketball game that I don't really care about, and I am contemplating a hot shower and an early bedtime.
8:50 - No sooner has that thought left my mind, I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. It is a friend of mine who happens to be in Richmond, the capital of this great state.
Funny thing, Richmond happens to be about an hour from my present location. The pot is sweetened when he tells me that it is his girlfriend's 21st birthday party and they are going to hit the bars.
If I had any qualms about this at all, they quickly vanish when he reminds me that his girlfriend is one of a set of triplets, and as luck would have it, they were also approaching the very same milestone.
I put my pants back on (ah, the glory of a hotel room to myself) and get ready to head down 64 to Richmond, land of opportunity.
10:03 - I arrive in Richmond and head over to my friend's place.
Upon entering, the gaggle of incredibly hot chicks that makes up our group for the evening makes my jaw literally drop.
I am one of four guys, one being my friend, the other two being the other two triplets' boyfriends. Very nice.
10:08 - We arrive at the first of what figures to be many bars. A round of tequila all around, and we are cooking with gasoline.
I set the alarm on my phone to 6:45. My first interview is at 8:30, followed by ones at 9:00 and 9:30. Then there's one at 2:00, which is fairly problematic being as I have to check out of my hotel at 11:00.
Upon arrival of the next round of shots, those thoughts get put on time-out until 6:45 tomorrow morning.
10:47 - I am feeling sound as a pound as we move on the the second bar. It's about time to see if there's any lady within our party who catches my affection (read: might look good naked), for the night is no longer young.
11:15 - The triplets are on their tenth or eleventh shots, and I am not far behind.
I've also been imbibing in some beer in between, you know, to stay hydrated and all. I start chatting it up with a good-looking chick, and soon I'm not really concerned with how everyone else is doing.
Friday, February 9th
12:16 a.m. - We head to another bar. My lady friend accompanies us, and soon I am faced with the age old question: If things start happening, do I try an go to her place (meanwhile, her two roommates are in our party, creating an 87.3% chance of a cockblock), or do I invite her back to my hotel room (which happens to be an hour away).
12:28 - Well, I don't really know what decision I came to, but I do know it worked. She is all over me in the bar, so we really need some privacy.
Before I know it, we are alone and headed for my car, promenade style. We start making out a bit before she asks if we can go to my place. Drunk as I am, I decided to go with a gradual approach. I say 'sure', and I start the car and head out.
I don't like to drink and drive, but...... I can't think of a way to end that sentence.
12:30 - I tell her that I'm right near the exit for 64 West. I figure I can make a smooth transition from my 'place' to the exit, and by the time she protests, I'll be at Zion Crossroads (a real place by the way, not some sort of new slang).
12:33 - Well, that plan worked for approximately 9 seconds. I pulled onto 64 West, and she was wise to it. Let me act this scene out for you, because a day and a half later, its pretty funny.
Her: Why did you get on 64 West?
Me: Oh, uh..we're just going to my place.
Her: Don't you live in Richmond?
Me: Uh, yeah, I, uh, live right outside Richmond actually. Practically in Richmond.
Her: Where exactly?
Me: Well, uh...., I actually live in...that is to say, I'm from...uh...(quickly)Blacksburg, but I'm staying somewhere close.
She gets that hesitant look in her eyes that to me signifies that she just sobered up a little bit, realized that she just met me tonight, and then I can see all of the headlines about women being raped and murdered in the Richmond area flash before her eyes, so it comes to no surprise that she says:
Her: Oh, okay. (chuckles nervously, like she thinks any direct refusal will set me off) Where, uh, (clears her throat)where......uh...where exactly are you staying?
I can sense exactly what is coming, but I don't really want to end up in jail tonight, so I have to come clean.
Me: I'm staying in..uh...(cough)Charlottesville(cough)
She gives a high pitched laugh that carries no hint of amusement in it, and when she talks, her voice is much more strained and high-pitched than it had been all night.
Her: Oh, uh, okay, uh, can you just, uh, bring me back to my place, I just remembered I have to go to work tomorrow. I can't really go to Charlottesville right now.
Me: Okay, no problem.
At this point I was just trying to convince her that I wasn't going to rape and murder her in a rest stop along the way so she wouldn't bolt from the car screaming at the next traffic light.
She gives me directions to her place, which, thank goodness, is only about ten minutes back don the road. As she gets out of the car, I make one last plea to save face.
Me: Just so you know, I'm, uh, not mental or anything (thought that quoting Wayne's World might soften her up a bit), I am really just visiting a friend, and I was at a job fair.
She stops her quick walk away from the car and slowly turns around. She glances up to the streetlight directly above my car, probably one thing that keeps her here.
Her: Oh, its okay, I just got really tired, you know. I really do have to work in the morning.
Bullllllllll shit.
It's okay though. At least she's not going to get me on a wanted poster in Richmond.
She keeps talking for a bit, and it's actually turning around. I think that maybe she is going to invite me up, until I utter the one line that gets the ladies every time:
Me: That's cool, I just wanted you to know that I wasn't going to make a lamp out of your skin or anything.
The look on her face is priceless.
All trace of amusement, compassion, warmth, and pity leave her face immediately. She bundles up her coat tighter to herself, and just kind of backs away slowly.
Note to self: Quoting Wayne's World: Good. Quoting The Silence of the Lambs: Bad.
I guess you learn something every day. I am in no condition to drive back to Charlottesville, and without a lady's company to inspire me, I ain't gonna do it.
I pull away from her street, and find a spot along another adjacent street.
I'm gonna sleep till my alarm rings.
If you're wondering why there are no times for the last part, its because the time wasn't my primary focus during the last few hours.
As I prepare to sleep in my running car, I look at the clock. 2:49 a.m. Nice.
6:35 - Dammit, I forgot my phone's alarm rings ten minutes before the time I set it to. I have a feeling that I really needed those extra ten minutes.
My car is running, and there is a crowd of African-Americans looking in at me with barely concealed amusement. I quickly pull away and try and find route 64.
6:53 - I am on the road and the hangover hits me. The last bit of intoxication I might have felt is gone.
I slowly begin to recall the order of events from last night. As I remember certain details, I laugh out loud. "Did I say something about a lamp made of human skin?" and "Did that chick think I was a......a serial killer?" are the questions I am pondering.
I am laughing so hard my head hurts, I better stop.
7:14 - I have to stop for some energy drink. I always laughed when I saw the 33 oz 'Big Rig' of Amped. Now I know why it was invented.
I grab two of those and a huge thing of water for the trip. Solid food isn't an option quite yet.
7:42 - I am back at my hotel, feeling a peculiar combination of nausea and energy, kind of like when you pull an all-nighter in college, and are on your way to class.
7:51 - Same old routine: hot shower, eye drops, aftershave, mouthwash.
I now have T-Minus 39 minutes to get to campus, find a spot, and be ten minutes early for my interview.
8:19 - Found a spot and even better, found the elevators. No greasy tequila sweat for this guy during his interview. It will probably be more like slimy gin sweat. So there.
9:28 - Done three out of my four interviews. Apparently I am vastly under qualified for most positions, but its good to know what to work on.
At least I didn't get any comments about my looks and/or smell. I guess I covered up.
9:30 - A new wrinkle has been added. Apparently I used all of my cash last night, and only have three dollars, which was the exact price of parking in the campus parking garage.
I only have one more interview left but its at two. I am going to go back, check out of my hotel, and then kill three hours.
9:36 - Stopped by the ATM to get some cash. Balance: $357.22.
Sounds great doesn't it? I thought so. At least until I remembered the $350 rent check that was supposed to clear by this afternoon. That, plus the fact that you can't take out less then $20 puts me in a pickle.
9:46 - Back at the hotel. Another scalding shower while I still have access to hot water. I spend the next 60 minutes alternating dozing off with staring blankly at a wall and wondering if it would have been better for my job prospects if I had spent this trip sober and doing research.
10:46 - I finally decide that no, it wouldn't have been any better. I check out, and figure that some solid food might not refunded.
11:01 - Stopped by another local Charlottesville watering hole, Ruby Tuesdays. Had a decent meal.
12:24 p.m. - Time to take a nap in my car. I put on some music (Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass- Definitive Hits, in case you are interested), and try and sleep for the next hour.
1:22 - I wake up with a thought: I don't have any cash, and I have to pay for parking.
I dig through my change container and find $0.65 worth of silver coins, and maybe another twenty cents in pennies.
At $1.70 per hour, I can afford .38 hours, or approximately 22.9 minutes. That means if my interview goes over that, I will be trapped.
So now I have a gamble to make.
Say I want to be five minutes early to my interview. It is about a seven minute walk from the parking garage. Seven plus five is twelve minutes that I have to pay for. Add another seven for the walk back. Nineteen minutes. That means I have have an interview of approximately 3.9 minutes.
And that is assuming I can find a spot right away, and previous interviews haven't gone over their time. What choice do I have? I'm going in.
1:43 - Parked. In time on the ticket: 13:42. I head to the interview.
1:54 - I get there hoping that he didn't have an interview before me. No such luck. I sit to wait.
1:58 - Alright, he calls me over. Let's make some magic.
2:14 - Good interview, poor timing. I didn't want to seem like I was anxious to get this over with, so I talked with the guy about a myriad of things, including his current electrical problems (he saw from my resume that I used to be an electrician).
2:17 - I walk out of the room past the registration tables thinking of schemes to get my car out of the garage. It's already been 32 minutes. I'm faced with a Catch-22.
I could go look for some change, but then my time is extended, increasing the amount of money I owe. What? Not a catch-22? Go fuck yourself.
Just as I decide to scrounge some change in any empty lecture hall I can find, I hear the magic word from one of the people doing registration.
This word: 'validate'. Like a fat kid on a cupcake, I am all over the table. A woman informs me that they do in fact, validate. I get the stamp, problem solved.
2:26 - I get to my car and am ready to depart, with my freshly validated ticket as my travel companion. As I pull up to the booth I wonder why there is no line to get out, as there had been one every single other time I had been to the garage.
The lady inside the booth just waves me through. The gate was malfunctioning. Apparently the universe was going to let me out of the garage anyways, it just forgot about validation. Brilliant.
2:29 - I am home free. Time to go home, take a nap, and start the weekend. Whew. No one told me how rough these job fairs can be.
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