So after all those months of unemployment and waking up at 11 A.M. and wandering around New York City for hours just because there was nothing better to do, after posting resumes online and submitting endless cover letters, attending silly cocktail job fairs and condemning myself to failure, I finally, thankfully, have a job.
I'm breathing easy and waking up early now, but the anxiety induced by the hiring process has definitely added a few more flecks of gray to my beard.
"I see you were the Editorial Assistant on a book called Life Inc.: How the World Became a Corporation and How to Take It Back by Douglas Rushkoff." The HR Manager deadpanned like a snarky Steven Wright. He was testing my resolve. "So how do you feel about working for the man?"
"Working for the man," I chewed on it, cleared my throat, let him know I was considering my answer. I didn't want him to think that I'd anticipated his questions, that would make me look smug.
"I had a feeling you might ask me that," I said. "And, uh, everybody's gotta eat. If you read Life Inc., you'll see it's not- it doesn't just condemn corporate life. It's about how life, now, today is inevitably corporate, and living this corporate life all the time has certain biases and disadvantages, but there are ways to evolve ourselves to surpass that. But you can't just unplug from the system, obviously the system doesn't do everything wrong, I mean, it's good enough to be The System, right?"
I was rambling. And I hadn't answered his question, at least not in a satisfactory way. I needed this job so badly that the pressure was threatening to derail me. I thought, 'Chill out, dude. Be zen. What would Don Draper do?' I then became, through some demonic method acting possession, the physical and mental embodiment Don Draper.
"I've worked for the man at lots of different companies, they're all on my resume and I've got great recommendations from each of them. I have no problem working for the man."
And I really don't. Especially not when "the man" in question is DC Comics and I've got a freakin' Superman tattoo.
Two days after my interviews at Warner Bros. and DC, I submitted the writing test — sort of an essay test on video games and the DC Universe — that had been assigned to me, being certain to send the file several hours ahead of the deadline. I was terrified. Even after I sent the test, I read those two pages over and over again, and I was devastated when I counted three grammar errors and a missing word.
Days passed. I was in such agony that I actually paid to see Transformers 2. I thought that CGI, throbbing subwoofers and plot-holes would distract me from obsessing about the job.
But there was no distracting me from fretting over my potential dream job.
A dream job at DC Comics — the home of Superman and childhood dreams and professional opportunity.
The days passed and I started to lose it. Did I have the job or not? If I weren't so paranoid about male pattern baldness, I would have been ripping my hair out.
I was ready to call the HR Manager to ask if they'd made their decision, but then he called me and I struggled to maintain composure. "They have identified you as a top candidate, and we're running a background check on you, but your candidacy does not guarantee that any final decision has been made or that you have the job." I'd have to wait a few more days, or perhaps even a week to find out the final decision.
The next day I left town for a family vacation. I felt stranded in limbo, unable to enjoy the R&R so graciously provided by my parents, clutching my iPhone for dear life; at any minute I might either win the lottery or suffer a broken heart.
My Dad decided that I had the job. He didn't think I would have gotten the "top candidate" call if the decision hadn't already been made. He reasoned that, "the company's spending money on you for the background check, and so you must be of value to the company, therefore, they'll make you an offer.
I was less optimistic. "This is just setting me up for greater disappointment later. Please, let's not talk about."
I was afraid to take my iPhone to the beach, so I left it locked in the hotel room closet safe. I lasted for only a few hours on the beach, beautiful and sunny though it was, before I dashed back to the hotel room, yanked open the safe and checked my voicemail.
Holy fracking scraps, I had a call from the HR Manager! "Call me back before uh, 5:30," I looked at the time. 5:32!
The phone had poor reception in my room, so I ran to the balcony. If I hadn't gotten the extra bars out there, I may have leapt over the rail in search of a signal. Fortunately for my leg bones, I didn't have to do that.
The call went through. I got the offer. I accepted. I got the dream job.
The End... Or only the beginning?
Now I work at DC as Assistant Editor–Interactive. I can't tell you about day-to-day action, because most of it deals with confidential, unreleased, awesome interactive entertainment.
I can at least tell you that I have played Batman: Arkham Asylum, and it is absolutely brilliant. That's not some corporate shill, it's the truth. This blog is not an appropriate platform for DC business so you won't hear me airing it here — take this recommendation as my unbiased fanboy opinion.
Since I am now a gaming professional, you can expect the focus of my posts to shift towards video games. With the exception of upcoming DC titles, I'll tell you what new games I'm playing on 360, Wii, DS, PS3 and the iPhone. Maybe even the PSP if I have time and a must-play game.
Expect these game-themed posts soon.
And since you're wondering, the answer is yes, I am still writing the boy-band screenplay. It's going to be spectacularious.
