I thought so. I wasn't sure what the hell I was going to say before arrival.

That job-interview mask goes up when necessary, as opposed to my audition mask, or my friendly cashier mask. I almost felt fake, yammering on about why I wanted to work there, why I loved coffee, what I ever did that stood out on the job to garner praise and accolades, but really, they're just bullshit questions. How many people have been hired based on how they properly answered the questions, and how many lived up to their words? Of every job I've had, andd of all the dumbass coworkers I shook my head at, I wondered what they did to get that job? How did they bamboozle the interviewer into thinking they were competent and responsible? I was all friendly and pleasant, and I was sure she could see through my mask, when she suddenly decides to book me for a second interview. Wal-Mart gave me a second one, and I got hired based on that. Before the interview, I popped into The Gap and asked to put in my resume, for which they gave me an application form instead. There I was, filling it out near this contest table for some sort of draw, only because there was a black pen there, then I figured that I wasn't looking too good there, so I folded up my form and moved on outta there, off to my Starbucks interview. Maybe having another application form from another place is like good luck or something?

Eventhough the interview was over, we shook hands and she said, "Enjoy the coffee." I took advantage of the free coffee from the friendly "Barista" earliler, who insisted I could have anything I wanted, but half-way through, it felt gross in my gut. I had to abandon the well-used mug and so I do what any broke person does: I browsed the shops!

HMV hates me. I'm sure they do, because the last time I was there, a sales person stood near me, like I were a potention shoplifter. I never worry because I know it's their job to look out for thieves, and because I rarely buy anything, they'll assume I'm there to steal, plus they don't know me by name, so they have every reason to think I could steal, BUT, since I'm not interested in stealing, I have no reason to be nervous. If I were going to steal, I'd be more fidgetty and anxious, too aware of my surroundings by darting my glance everywhere, but I don't because I won't. I could get all indignant and all, but then I'd look like the idiot. Maybe I tolerate them because I believe they are the ones who look silly, wasting their time on me, when they could be keeping their eyes on actual shoplifters. Today, there was a security guy there, and when my eyes feel upon him, he gave me a suspicious glare, letting me know that he's keeping his eyes on me. I just smiled at him and made my way around the store, thinking it silly that they're getting nervous about little ol'me. When I was near the DVD's, near the entrance, the security guard shuffled over to possibly pounce on me when I made my getaway with a stack of DVD's or chased after me, attracting the TV news crew to film it all. Really, I don't know what he would've done, but I was just casual, secretly laughing to myself at the whole absurdity of it all. Maybe it was the attention, maybe it was a false sense of power over their assumptions: who the hell knows? I casually walked out, imagining them heaving a sigh of relief, watching me go.

I don't want to think they hired that guy just for me, but that did seem strange. I assume the sales person that asked me for help called the guard's attention to me, to keep an eye out for the "freaky looking rastafarian girl" or whatever phrasing was used against me. I suppose my imagination was over-active, and my perception got in the way.