Beggars can’t be choosers?

Have you ever felt why you are here facing the ugly realities of life, enduring insults right in front of you after you are invited? I have, and the experience is still so fresh that if I don’t manifest it in writing, the grief will knit up the overwrought heart and bid it shatter to pieces, which has already been cracked, broken, then repeated. Job interviews are arguably the most tricky and adrenaline-inducing passage of livelihood for which some introverts have to give in at the expense of our fairy-like stealth, Sanity. You can either win or lose at the impression on the interviewer, who is more often than not less cultivated, let alone understanding humanity, no matter the social status. But then, you should not let your dignity and Sanity be ripped off or broken apart because you deserve a good one.

It all started when I got first called in for a zoom interview last Thursday. It was for the position of part-time legal assistant at a small family law office in Downtown Los Angeles (not to be confused with Downtown Abbey, LOL). The office proprietor, an old man lawyer, was a typical lawyer who must have inspired Shakespeare to exclaim, “Kill all the lawyers!” It was not so much a job interview as an immigration or any bureaucratic interview, I gather, because of the following: 

(1) His question of whether I had any family member or friend with divorce experience is irrelevant, knowing that I had no experience in divorce law. When I said no, he cast a doubtful glance at me;

(2) After the zoom interview, what was the need for a second interview in the office for a part-time position in such a small law office?; 

(3) I referred him to my blog as writing samples at his request, but he never gave me feedback on them;

The interview reminded me of a police interrogation I am familiar with by watching British and American procedural detective TV dramas. He questioned me and observed my facial expressions to find faults. He was cross-examining me with the questions he had already concocted in his petty lawyer mind and insulted my sensitivity. He seemed to be of a typical victorian/Edwardian bourgeoise (not even peerage) would-be employer pleased with himself for being so rich, so successful by his so clever lawyering. 

I am seeking employment to make a living, but I don’t want to work for/under such a rude and unpleasant employer. I wasted my time on earth because of yet another traumatic experience of failing humanity. What change has been improved since the labor movements in the tacit relationship between the worker and the employer when I cannot speak my mind because ignoring it in the oblivious land of forced amnesia will make me fall apart, and I can’t take it anymore? And it didn’t end on that day. He dared to inform me of my not being hired the next day at NIGHT. Thank God for not giving me the job. And I wish it was all just a nightmare, and that’s all.