Another day, another interview.
With my heart beating a mile a minute, I headed to the Hamilton Train Station to board the 10:46 a.m. to New York Penn Station. But, this interview somehow felt different. My heart truly wasn’t in it. It wasn’t a magazine interview. Instead, it was for a once a week Social Media Internship. Before that, I checked the address. Once I found out I’d need to hop onto 3 different subways and take a taxi, I was a bit turned off, but I did it anyway. By doing this, I’d be so proud of myself. I’d be navigating through NYC and it would be a challenge. I was ready. I was up for it!
I knew it would take a long while to get there & I gave myself enough time. It was near Midtown and I’m used to going to Manhattan. I was completely alone. Sure, I could ask other travelers! However, I was from PA and hadn’t the slightest idea. I just merely followed the piece of paper my brother helped me with by writing down the trains & switches I’d have to go through. Take this, take that.
I had to completely concentrate. I couldn’t look away or I’d miss my stop. That would mess up the whole deal, the whole plan. It would set me back & I’d start to panic.
After I found the “Downtown” 1-2-3, I felt safe. I needed to get off at 14th Street and locate the “L.” Then, I’d get off at 14th, find the 6, and get off at 23rd. Boy, I was tired even before the interview began. My next goal was to hale a taxi. Can you smell the Pennsylvania blood on the side of the road? It was probably painful to watch me get the attention of a taxi driver. Eventually, when he came and I told him where to go, he questioned it. He was rude, nasty & ignorant. What did I expect? Once we got to the building, I handed him the money and left. I wanted to get away from him.
I took the elevator and sat outside for 30 minutes, since I was 45 minutes early. I began to contemplate why I came. I had strong doubts about this whole thing, but I needed to go through with it or I might have regretted it. So, I stuck with it trying to appreciate my surroundings, taking it all in. The atmosphere, the breeze, the sunlight in my eyes. EVERYTHING.
At 2:16 p.m. I checked in with the doorman, who told me to take a seat in the small lobby with two couches and a tiny mail room. I sat there observing the people walking by and the doubts came again. My first thought was I could so walk out right now and not look back. I could get out of this thing right now. But, I didn’t. Around 2:21 p.m., I figured I’d head up to the seating area where my interview would take place. Cool. As I was walking toward the elevator, the man stopped me. He told me it was too early? I’ve been on precisely 8 interviews and had never heard those words. I was confused, utterly & completely puzzled.
2:27 p.m. he phoned the woman to let her know. Once I was informed, I could finally head up. I pushed the up button and clicked —. When the doors opened up on level —, I got out of the elevator. Doors? Door after door after door was what I saw. I didn’t see any signs nor did I see anything about this website. Confused & baffled, I looked for the letter suite the woman gave me. When I found the door, I knocked. No answer. At this point, I thought about leaving, peacing out. Hello? There were stairs a few steps away and I could take them all the way down and exit, but I didn’t. I stayed put. No one came to greet me and I had to knock once again.
When the woman came from behind Suite —–, she appeared nervous. I walked into an.. apartment? Um. I was really confused. I was inside an apartment and wanted out. I saw a refrigerator, two couches, two computers and photos. There were photos scattered on the kitchen table! Table. Chairs. Stove. What was this? Was this a joke? haha. You got me.
Then, she began asking me about my background. I’m in an apartment, was the only thought I had. I needed to concentrate, but all I could think about was the following– I’m in an apartment. But, then I came back to life and told her what she wanted t o hear. The woman, who was supposed to interview me, emerged from the other room with a spaghetti strap black shirt, no bra and black pants. With her nipples showing, she shook my hand.
This is an apartment.
She gave me a few tasks and I couldn’t concentrate. I couldn’t wrap my head around this whole experience. I wanted out. I got done the tasks and left. They would be in touch with me, or rather I could call on Monday to find out. Why would I call you? That’s a bit unprofessional and I wouldn’t be contacting them. It would be too much of a burden just getting there. I had to think about going back onto the subway and going home. I was a long way from home and I knew it.
After almost getting on the wrong train and having trouble finding this and that, I finally made my way back to Penn Station. I knew where I was at and felt safe again. I bought a $5.00 ham & swiss sandwich and called it a day. I didn’t get home until around 8:00 p.m. It was an all-day affair and I knew it.
In my heart, I knew this wasn’t for me even before anyone else. This was for a New Yorker who lived close or someone who is desperate for experience. I have the experience. I could find something like that around here.
I was stuck and had no way out, so I appeared friendly & excited. Meanwhile, I was uncomfortable & shouting in my mind rude & nasty things. Secretly cringing at the sight of the whole situation.
It was a good experience because it made me stronger. I accomplished this New York commute and I was proud. I “acted” like a true New Yorker. But, I didn’t fit in– glancing at a piece of paper with directions written all over it looking nervously at the train schedules. You could smell me from a mile and you could so easily take advantage of my blood.
All I could think of on the ride train, you ask? Well, it was an apartment!