professional debacles

So the job fair last weekend was sort of a bust. There were hundreds of potential teachers wearing black suits and name tags, standing in long lines for five minute group interviews with glass-eyed principals. I was incredibly nervous. Luckily many of my colleagues has already completed their interviews before I arrived, so they were able to give me good tips. TIps like, “if you don’t speak Spanish you’re fucked.” I don’t speak Spanish. Also, they didn’t really say, “fucked.” Anyway. If you DID speak Spanish, or if you had a reading or ESL endorsement, you were funneled toward a more in depth interview. The rest of us poor schmucks were not as lucky. My interviewer interrupted me halfway through my answer to the ONLY question he asked me (“what would you bring to the district”). His eyes drifted over my head to another administrator, and he called her over to have a little chat about lunch or something. Much chuckling. Then after a couple of minutes he returned to me, “What were you saying?” Ugh. I mumbled something about 4th grade buddies and counted myself out of the running. I guess it didn’t go as horribly as I thought, though, because I just received an email about a second interview. We will see.
Last night I went to dinner at the Head of School’s house. My school encourages these mixed-group faculty/staff dinners. I sort of forgot about it, and ate a ginormous burrito about an hour before I had to be at her house. So when I showed up I was totally full. I hoped that it would be a buffet style event, so no one would notice how meager my serving was. No luck. The hostess served us, and I am ashamed to say that at least one appetizer wound up in my napkin.
I thought the whole debacle would make a great 70’s Show episode. A character is invited to the boss’s house for dinner, but fills up on french fries and hamburgers. To get an instant appetite, she smokes a joint to get the munchies. Then hilarity ensues. Great pitch, right?
Tonight HRS ARK ROYAL and I are going to stay at a fancy hotel. Cha cha cha. Perhaps we will take advantage of their “intimacy kit.” Cla-ssy.