SIGNS POINT TO YES

Well, the interview went really well, and the upshot of it all is that they would like to hire me as a Project Manager, but can't really afford to do that right at the moment because they don't have enough work for a full-time project manager. So they phoned my recruitment agency and asked if I would be willing to work as a contractor doing development for a while, until they were more in a position to give me project management work. I said yes, so they are going to work out a contract tomorrow.

Obviously, since nothing has been signed, I don't have anything for sure, but in the words of the famous Magic 8 Ball, "signs point to yes."

I really liked these guys, so I'm happy about this.

The bus that stops about a block from my house also stops literally in front of the office. Unfortunately, it has also been determined to be The Worst Bus in London--I'm dead serious about this. They just did a report on the most unreliable bus service in the city, and this bus was the #1 on the list of least reliable. Which is funny.

Anyway, it's in a very dangerous neighborhood, in the sense that there are no fewer than five shoe stores within walking distance. I am going to be hard-pressed to pay rent.

I don't know what's going to happen here, but I will keep you posted. I mean, after all, they *did* ask if I would be amenable to this, so I that's got to be a good sign, don't you think?

BRITISH NON-HUMOR

Today, I had the following exchange of emails with my recruiter:

Me: So what can you seriously tell me about the company? I'm guessing that there are five people who mostly outsource.

Andy: There are more like 30 people! Smart casual, open plan office - no closed doors. To be honest the woman I spoke to on reception was a bit new, and more than slightly dim sounding, but at least we can set your expectations right about the size...

Hope this is marginally helpful.

Me: Thank you!

Now I know that when I get there, I should try to avoid using any Big Words with the receptionist. Not that there's really much danger of anything else. I have been reliably informed that I used the word "awesome" at least three times in a telephone conversation last night.

Andy: cool.

Me: wicked.

Andy: sweet

Me: slammin'

Andy: sorted

Me: You're totally making that one up. You figure, hey, she's American, I can just type random words and she'll assume that they actually mean something over here.

I'm sure that's how "bootylicious" started.

Andy: no no no - sorted is east london for 'it's taken care of' hence the joke;

how did the packet of crisps react when offered drugs?

'no thanks I'm 'ready sorted'

Me: That joke makes no sense whatsoever. You're still making this up, albeit now with cleverly-contrived anecdotal evidence.

Andy: The point of the joke is this. There's a flavour of crisps (chips to you) called 'ready salted' basically salt and vinegar without the vinegar. The packet of crisps is therefore simultaneously saying 'I'm ready salted in flavour' and 'no thank you I already have drugs'.

there - see?

Me: Your joke still makes absolutely no sense whatsoever. However, you would do well working for Cherie Blair.

Andy: re my joke - the humour results in the fact that

No thanks I'm already sorted (out for drugs)

sounds vaguely like

No thanks I'm Ready Salted

leading to further, more bizzare humourous imaginings that maybe ready salted crisps are less inclined to drug abuse that more reckless flavours like cheese and onion for example.

Me: No, no, stop already. Oh, my aching sides.

Andy: But do you get it now?

SO WHAT IS NEW

Well, Hanukkah is over. And tomorrow I have a job interview, and it's for a job I actually would like to have, so that's a good thing. At least I think it's a good thing. I keep running into problems with people not quite "getting" that I need a work permit, and then freaking out when I tell them for the umpteenth time, as if they didn't hear me the first umpteen-minus-one.

So last night I was on the train going home, and I was standing next to the door when we stopped at a station. The doors opened, and a man next to me looked around uncertainly, then turned to me and said in a verrry heavy French accent, "Excuse me, but eez zees Waterloo?"

I found this hilarious.

For some reason, nobody else does.

This may be an example of Reasons I Shouldn't Quit My Day Job.

Oh, wait, I already did that.

I know you're getting tired of hearing about the little Britishisms I find hilarious. I mean, I get tired of that. When you hear American comedians talk about having visited London, and they go on and on about the hilarity of calling a cigarette a fag or being offered spotted dick, there just gets to be a point when the dead horse starts to resemble gelatin.

However.

The newscasters here mention what news story will be coming up in the broadcast after the commercial break by saying, "After the break...." However, they don't say, "After the break, we'll be discussing such-and-such,"

Fire alarm. Be back.

-----later------

All right, so fire alarm over. Nothing's aflame. I think someone thought it would be funny to clear the place because, you know, it's freezing outside.

So where was I?

Oh. Newscasts.

Basically, they say, "After the break, a naked man jumps into traffic and steals a baby from a passing car," or whatever the news item happens to be. Like that's part of the program that they're providing for you. I swear, it doesn't sound like they're reporting news, it sounds like, "After the break, Judy will bake a chocolate cake." Every time, I think, "That's terrible! Somebody stop him!" I mean, geez, if you know he's going to do it....

I guess you have to be there.

When I told my sister this, she said: That makes me think about that Polish joke where the man is watching the news with some other guy and they show this woman who is going to jump from a building, and they make a bet as to whether she'll do it or not. The Pole bets she won't and the other guy bets she will, and they watch avidly until the woman jumps from the building. The non-Pole says, "You know, I really can't take your money. I saw this on an earlier broadcast." And the Pole says, "Yeah, me too. But I thought maybe this time they'd be able to talk her out of it."

Mind you, we are Polish, so don't get all bent out of shape over that.

I just figured out why the company I'm interviewing with is looking for a woman. It's the season of office Christmas parties, which is also the season when coworkers get drunk and fondle one another in supply closets. A mostly male office? You do the math.

All right, I have nothing else to say here, so I really should get back to looking for work.

I might end up doing a month-long contract job, by the way. It looks pretty hopeful, so if I don't get this job I'm interviewing with tomorrow, that's next.