2 weeks ago I took a typing and clerical exam for the job of Clerk Typist at the Madison Public Library. This would involve me keeping track of every piece of text in the entire massive building. Believe it or not, I really want this job, and the $25,000 a year isn’t too bad either. So I applied, and was invited to this test.
I was one of 115 people to apply and test for the position, so right off the bat I knew that to get this job would be a miracle to say the least. I just thought that if I typed and answered questions as fast as I could, I would get a better percentage due to sheer volume. My intelligence is questionable, but my speed of completing work is second to none. This would be the only way that I could succeed over the 114 others who were more qualified, and had spent actual work hours in an office environment rather than 4 years at a hardware store. Writing down “Hardware Store Clerk – 6/98 to 6/02” doesn’t really pad out a resume too well.
So on the morning before I took the big test, I tried cocaine for the first time. I purchased the high-grade “white” from a guy named Vance who I always see standing outside the liquor store from the window of my house. I had sworn off caffeine for over 2 years now, and knew I really needed an extra boost for the undertaking. My job depended on it.
So, all coked up, I drove to the testing site near the Capitol Building going a shade over a hundred miles an hour in the Escort. I got there an hour and a half early, and spent that extra time finding a parking spot and walking to the building. (I would later find out from Celia that I actually just drove around the block of my house for 45 minutes, parked in the street, and ran the 20 miles to Madison)
When I got there, I sat down and started the first of my 2 tests, the typing test. You needed to type a minimum of 40 net words per minute. Forgetting that I needed to type the text off of the sheet that was handed to me, I spent the testing time just going on about how neat I thought that cats were. They sent me a transcript of what I wrote, and here’s a small sample of it:
“cats rocK1! they shit in boxes andsleeep all day i gotta cat shes awsome she eats kibble and it was colld outside today”
Somehow, I managed to milk 51 net words per minute out of that performance(and 60 gross), so I got to take the written Clerical exam next. By this point, I was starting to feel exhausted and emotional. By the time the instructor came back to me with the test booklet, I was crying pretty hard and had my scarf wrapped around my face to muffle the yelling. She was nice about it though, and just left the booklet next to me. Eventually I calmed myself down and started taking it, though it was very slow going. Every time I got to an alphabetizing question, I would start reciting the alphabet out loud while counting on my fingers, much to the annoyance to the room full of other testers who were already growing more and more impatient with me. I would get to about “J” before I broke down again, muttering things about how much I hated cats while I wrapped the scarf ever tighter. I got 4 correct out of 160. Adding insult to injury, I had to walk all the way back home.
So I got the letter today saying that although they would consider me for Library jobs in the future, I was not high enough on the list of people they were going to interview. I ended up ranking #14 out of 115, but it was just below the cut. So it’s back to square one for me.
Don’t do the drugs.