the job market’s flirting with me again.

Occasionally I go through these little once-in-a-while meetup type things. I kind of compare them to a sort of first date type deal, only for employment reasons rather than familial/whatever the hell else is out there. Company catches your eye from across the way, you try not to let them catch you looking until you think you’ve got the nerve. then you go up and introduce yourself. You get to talking, find out you’ve got a few things in common, decide hey, let’s give the dinner thing a try. Pick you up at 3? Awesome. so you go, you do the thing, you say the stuff, and it hopefully doesn’t blow up in your face. From here, it goes one of a few ways. You stick to casual dating–nothing exclusive, you see, you decide eventually that maybe you wanna get a little more on the serious side, or you decide hey, that was fun, but what else ya got? Then you do it all over again with the next one, or multiple ones. and on their end, they’re doing the exact same thing–playing the field, if you will, with a whole bunch of other shmucks probably not too unlike you. It’s the business equivalent to the bar scene, if you’re into that kinda thing. and that’s where this post kind of grows a point of its own.

I’ve stepped back into the dating scene again, at least from an employment viewpoint. Had the dinner date (read: interview) and everything. It looks like it could be promising, right up until she says “I’ll call you”. well crap. and it was going so well. So now, I get to sit around and see if my most recent date wants to see me again. either she’ll call me, or I’ll see her at the same damn bar in a couple days with another guy on her arm and thank caffeine I’ve got a plan B–more on that in another entry. Meanwhile, I learn something I probably should have learned by now. If the job market’s a bar scene, then your average employer’s a freakin’ tease. All the fun and flirting you can handle, but the ride stops real quick when it gets to “your place or mine?”. And, of course, the minute I walk through the door, some dreamy lookin’ thing wants to flirt. Thank christ I’ve got nothing but time. and that plan B.

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