who gives a job to someone like that?! Saturday, January 5 2008

i wore a great suit.  i had a portfolio.  i had energy and drive.  i had also had a few drinks.

i walked into the conference room and there was a hawk mascot uniform on the chair beside the one designated for me.  i asked the ladies, “will he be asking the hard questions?”  there was laughter.  good start.  the ladies who interviewed me ended up to be the youth services department head, the branch manager, and the adult services department head.  fortunately, they laughed at my quip.

now, i wasn’t drunk by any means, but i was relaxed.  the alcohol had, in fact, lowered my inhibitions.  it’s also worth mentioning that i was COMPLETELY convinced that i wouldn’t get this job.  the challenges of the previous few days told me that i wasn’t together enough to pull off a successful interview.  and because i was so convinced, i decided that this interview would be a learning experience: what kind of questions would be asked?  what does a professional interview look like?  how could i better prepare for the next one?

i went in with nothing to lose.

i don’t remember all of the questions…it all moved to fast.  what i do remember is that when they asked me about programming ideas, i told them that i’d been on a “bender”.  i remember that when they asked me how i would handle someone looking at porn in the Teen area, i responded, “i would card them.”  i remember telling them that i was excited to live the “Vegas Life”, whatever that means.  when they asked me for my final statement, i told them they wouldn’t find a more enthusiastic candidate, that i was surely lacking experience, but i’d sure try hard.

they were stonefaced.  i didn’t feel any chemistry, which is why i should’ve known it wasn’t meant to be. 

the Beehive. Wednesday, December 12 2007

I love this story.

like i said, I’d spent what seemed like forever trying to get the attention of this warm, scruffy music seller that i worked with.  i strutted past the music desk every chance i got and i even made a rule in the café that i was the only staffer allowed to take out the garbage because it meant walking by the music desk.  how many girls do you know who’ll do that for ya’?

so, finally, in January of 1999, Dennis asks me if i’d like to get some coffee after class.  i tried to remain calm, and i might have succeeded for as long as it took me to get from the music desk to the café.  then i started screaming and jumping up and down like a contestant on the Price is Right.  Dennis later told me that he heard every word of my excitement from across the building.

the next morning i head off to class, looking cute in jeans and a sweater, wearing my favorite winter shoes.  now, it must be mentioned that i have a penchant for falling.  i have a weak ankle that gives out every once in a while.  there’s foreshadowing for ya’.

after class, i met Dennis at the designated corner on campus and we walked to the Beehive.  the Beehive was this old old old theater that had been turned into the second location of a local coffeehouse.  i have a special place in my heart for the original Beehive because it was one of the places i spent my nights as a teen.  i think they were open 24/7.  i would steal my mom’s car in the middle of the night and drive my friends to the coffeehouse to play cards or just sit and talk.  later, when the second locale opened up, we made friends with the baristas and would hang out there all night.  at fifteen, i had a short romance with an artist named Andrew who cleaned the theater at night in exchange for a place to paint and rehearse (he played several instruments).  he seduced me with his serenades more than once, with multiple instruments and his many talents.  but that was many years before this date.

by this time, the Beehive had expanded to include a bar and a smoking lounge on the upper floor.  so we went in, ordered our coffee, and headed upstairs–Dennis was smoking at that time.

there was a long flight of stairs interrupted midway by a landing.  i had ordered a café au lait.  what this meant for me was that i had a short, wide, completely filled ceramic cup of coffee.  i was most worried about spilling it all over myself.  what i did not envision was the edge of my shoe catching on one of the stairs on our way up.

in slow motion, the line of my ankle, then knee, then hip, then ribs, elbow, and forehead all reached down to meet the incline of the staircase.  i actually had time to think “this cannot be happening.”  at the end of the fall, i rested my forehead on the stair in closest proximity and then set my coffee on the landing. what i’m proud of is that through the whole event, i didn’t spill a drop of coffee…years of coffeehouse training.

i looked up and Dennis was on the landing.  without a laugh, smile, or smirk, he reached his hand down and asked if i was okay.  i think i fell in love with him at that very moment.

i would fall many more times…and eventually there was laughing…but not that first time.

the Biggest trick. Saturday, November 17 2007

during that first trip to Vegas, i had a moment of profound change.  that night i called it the biggest trick ever played on me.

we were at Seven, sitting on the patio, and the bouncers started going around to tell everyone that they were closing up the patio.  every one of us at the table thought they were just preparing to close the club.  we went inside and danced for a while before trying to figure out what to do next.

who knows how long we danced…we had no sense of time.  we decided to go to another club.  we headed for the door.  when the bouncer said goodnight, he opened the door.  the sun was up.  and i don’t mean that it was light out.  the sun was midsky.  it was the drugs, but i was utterly amazed.  where did the time go?

as we walked down the Strip, i realized that they weren’t closing the patio to prepare for anything…they sent us inside so we wouldn’t know that it was morning.  somehow, i felt violated…but in a good way.  kinda.

i truly believe that this was the moment i fell in love with Vegas.  there was something about the obviousness of it, the blatent masquerade.  the infliction of hedonism.  Vegas was seedy underneath that glamorous sheen, and i loved it.

and now…Dennis. Tuesday, November 13 2007

the short history is as follows:

Dennis and i met while working in one of the major bookstores.  he worked in music and i worked in the café.  he was a warm, sensitive type with a scruffy face and really beautiful eyes.  he also liked black metal, the riverdales, the cure,  and tori amos.  what can i say…i like ‘em complex.

i tried (completely unsuccessfully) to play it cool for 6 months.  he finally asked me to get a cup of coffee on January 23, 1999.  see aside, the Beehive. 

the first two years were tumultuous at best.  he was wrangling feelings for several exes, dealing with an untreated clinical depression, some drug use, etc.  and didn’t introduce me, or even refer to me, as his girlfriend.  we just spent 5 nights a week together…you know, as friends.

the next two years were literally a roller coaster.  i honestly believe we “broke up” every six to eight weeks, mostly because he “couldn’t handle it”.   there was a lovely (read: horrible and embarrasing) incident at the Library, some wonderful (read: fabulous) trips to Chicago, Boston, NYC, Montreal, Toronto, and more.  we liked to travel.   

in spring of 2004, before the Vegas trip, i explained that i thought we should break up for real.  he was 29 and living at home–his mother still did his laundry, paid his bills, and cooked for him, and he had no driver’s license.  i told him that i loved him, but that i needed him to grow up.  if that couldn’t happen, then we shouldn’t bother continuing our relationship.

he responded with, “so you want to break up because i never took home-ec?!” 

that’s the kind of guy he was.  there was a short period of vague i-hate-you-ness (this is where the Vegas trip falls), followed by an eventual reunion.  this would basically bring us up-to-date.

in my opinion, he treated me pretty badly those first years, and truthfully, i don’t know why i stayed.  i thought we were meant to be.  the worst part is that he was so inconsistent in his affections that when he did fall in love with me, i thought it wouldn’t last.  i absolutely didn’t get it.  i constantly anticipated the next breakup, or at least the next book-throwing argument, and it caused me to rehash his bad moments over and over again.  i didn’t believe in his love until it was too late.

since i’ll probably say lots of mean things about Dennis,  i’ll say this:  i love(d)  him deeply. 

he is a genius, and when he wants to be, he’s warm, sensitive, loyal, caring, and sweet.  there is a lot of love and a lot of anger in him; they make him one of the most passionate people i’ve ever met.  he is unique in a world of carbon copies, and i will always miss him.

let’s get back to the story.