So I thought I had this job.
And I did. I like, actually, for a couple of days, had a job....a real, live job.
But now, officially, decidedly as of a couple of hours ago...I've let it go.
Just listen.....
A week ago I met with the very nice folks at Knit & Needle Point on Newbury Street in Boston. This is like totes my thing...it's a place that is run by this sweet middle aged lady, Mary Jo, and her friend, or her sister, maybe her cuz or her twin for all I know, Joan. They're really nice ladies, they talk absurdly loud (borderline screaming), they're excitable, very rambunctious kinda gals. Totally my kind of women! Anyway...I went in there, after a bit of emailing and applied for the artist position. For all of you not-so-versed in needle point..what happens when you get a needle point kit is they hand you all of your threads in various colors, along with a piece of mesh that is hand painted with a design that you sew your threads into to make your needle point piece. Where I come into play is that I would be the one painting said designs onto the mesh, got me? So I'm thinking: KILLER!!! I can paint like the day is long, this is terrific, fantastic work for Ms. Hays to be doing, I'm gonna kill it! And I did, because I got the job.
The first time I went in there, they handed me a lil sample of a snowman, it was a xerox piece of paper of a mesh with a design on it, so they gave me an actual piece of mesh and wanted me to copy the design on, in the appropriate colors, to give back to them, to show them what I'm made of. And I did it *perfectly* and handed it back to them. Now, this lil snow man took me roughly an hour and twenty minutes to complete. And while doing it, I'm thinking about what this kit actually costs and what they could possibly afford to pay an artist to do it...and I began to get.....nervous.
So I go in the next day and hand it to Mary Jo. She's like, totes impressed, as she should be, cause it was *perfect*. Something that needs to be explained: think about a very fine piece of mesh, now think about every square needing to be painted the exact color, down to a count, so that it can be executed by a very non creative individual that needs a very precise thing to follow (And I say this as someone who grew up doing cross stitch, which is a very non-creative art form, which I loved, because I'm a freak that enjoys doing tedious, sometimes non thoughtful things with her hands....).
She tells me that its fab, and asks me to come back on Monday. I get a call the next day on Friday, from her husband who runs the store with her. He says that they're very impressed, would like to hire me for the artist position, and that I should come in for a meeting on Tuesday with Mary Jo and Joan so I can talk about some projects. Being the inquisitive, perhaps rude gal that I am, I immediately question about compensation. He tells that will all be addressed at the meeting. So I wonder....
Now everyone who I ask about the compensation issue tells me to go in with a compensation price that I expect/desire. But I know better...see I have enough sense to understand that these kits are sold at a very specific price, and that therefore there will be a very set scale at which they are willing to pay their artists to complete each project. I do not go in with any expectations, only an understanding of what they say goes...so I ready myself. Now I also reasoned with myself all weekend, knowing that they would probably not pay me well for the piece I had completed the other day in an hour and twenty minutes...but hell, if I got to, I will learn how to do it quickly, and before I know it, I'll be pumping these things out and I'l be making money hand over fist (I didn't really believe this, but I often tell myself a lot of things that I never actually truly believe...call it denial...what ever)
So the big day comes, Tuesday morning, I have a 9:30 meeting. (and if you've ever been on unemployment, you know that getting an actual interview or any kind of meeting is a big freaking deal from a potential employer).The first sign that this was not going to work out should have been my car not starting. I've never had this happen to me. I got my car (not new, but in very good shape) a lil less than 2 months ago. And its not starting? Even my car knew that this job was bullshit and it was trying to persuade my otherwise. Fortunately my boyfriend had taken a few days off, so I had the back up Taurus on my side. So we sailed into Boston we did, and found a parking spot right outside!
I go in. Now, these ladies, which I will still say, no matter what the outcome of this harried situation, I like ALOT. They're kinda cartoon characters. They talk very loud. Their lives are about a completely non essential crafting hobby. I just think they're sweet. I want to make them cup cakes as I go in and let them down that I'm not going to take the job.
Mary Jo gives me the skinny on the pay scale. It kind of sucks but she explains that when she gives me an ornament that she will only pay me $8 to paint, that she will be asking me to paint 10 of them, so at least its a decent work load (so think $80 for all ten of them...meh?). But this time, she's going to give me 7 different little projects to work on, ranging from $8 to $28, just to see what I'm made of, and to return them on Thursday afternoon before she leaves for a two week vacation. And I'm just like...okay................She also mentions that if I learn to knit, I can work in the shop two days a week...the deal is sounding sweeter? I don't know, maybe they were like pumping pure oxygen into this place or something. It all sounded okay while I was in there.
So after a lot of explanations about what is expected out of the individual pieces and what they need from me, I leave with a shopping bag full of embroidery floss (for color matching) and rolls of mesh to work with to complete my projects.
I don't quite settle into my work until about mid afternoon. I became derailed with Xmas cards and the like (I know, I cannot believe I'm sending out Xmas cards either, but they're hand designed!). Any who, by the time I'm ready to hit the gym and do my own shit for the day, I've only completed one design, and it was by far the most easiest design to do. Along the way I find a few short cuts to make the next design a little bit easier to lay out, but still, there were several hours involved in making this happen. For ten fuckin bucks!
Disgruntled, I go on to have many hard drinks that evening at the Mexican restaurant that my man decided to take me out to that night. God bless Adam.
I get home, spend two plus more hours of my life working on and completing a ten dollar project. This still feels like its not quite panning out.
Not quite completely discourage, I jump back exuberantly on the horse again today, I mean come on, I have a job to do! But this is where I broke people. This is where it all became crystal fucking clear. This job, is bogus.
I spent three hours today. Three very frustrating, annoyed hours, trying to complete a twelve dollar project. I messed up three times. The first one, I was nearly forty minutes into. The second one, probably about thirty minutes into. You can't mess up on these things. There is no erasing, just doing over completely. So I had to keep starting over. And when it was completed, three hours later, it didn't even completely resemble the original design that was handed to me. That was when the shit hit the fan. When I walked out into the living room from my room to tell Adam that the movie he was watching (that I had to listen to through the walls) was a fucking waste of time, I gave him the evil eye. I gave myself the evil eye. I was ready to give any motherfucker that crossed my path the dirtiest damn look I could. I was ready to shave my own freaking head cause I was mad at my hair cut.
This is when I realized that this job was not such a hot idea. And after much consulting with some very wise ladies this evening, my momma and my Aims included, I've decided that tomorrow I will decline the offer...before I get in to deep.
So there goes that idea. Back to the drawing board.
Oh, and nine more glorious fucking days till Xmas. I can't fucking wait.
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