Steinhardt, NYU, NYC

The story of my job interview yesterday, as adapted from a message sent to my dearest darlingest Foxervalls.
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So I was a stupid nervous wreck all morning because I felt silly wandering around NYU not knowing where I was (my biggest emotional issue, currently, is that I will be very out of my element and feel extremely lost. Which I was.), and it was semi-raining and humid and I was uncomfortable, didn't know where the interview was, blah blah blah. Poor mum hurt her foot two days ago, so walking around was making her miserable, so we were not the happiest of campers, but we managed to poke about NYU and she was happy to see the buildings. She likes the big purple flags. So do I - it makes me feel important.

We went to the NYU bookstore and mum got window clings for the cars so they can show off that I go to NYU, I got a textbook required for class (69 bucks - used!!! Textbooks are such a racket), and I was super happy that they sell intelligent posters, like Renoir, and old school book covers, intelligent movie posters - nerdy NYU kid stuff. Sometimes I think I really will fit in. :)

All right - the nterview. I go to the Steinhardt building at 35 West 4th Street and check in with the security guard, and I ask him where Mr. Shuhei Seo is, and he says he moved to the 6th floor. I was like, ok, cool. The room number I was told was 777, so I would have guessed it was the 7th floor, but I'll take this guy's word for it. Mr. Seo told me the security guard would direct me to him, so I hit the elevator.

6th floor. Definitely not where I'm supposed to be. I don't see anyone, and there's lots of computers and recording equipment behind soundproof glass. I go up to the 7th floor.

This looks more like the right place. Filing cabinets line the walls between piano practice rooms. Secretaries sit down the hall. I ask the girl working the desk about my meeting with Mr. Seo in 777. She looks at me and was like "Shu? He has a meeting with you... here?" Uh. Yeah. "Okay... hey, Cheryl, she says she's got a meeting with Shu here... Suite 777..." At this point I'm thinking uh-oh, I did something seriously wrong. They're confused and incredulous that he would have scheduled something here. So they try to call his office, he's not there. They ask me to wait because if the meeting is here, he'll show up.

3:30 comes and goes. 3:45 arrives. I had gotten there a good 10 minutes early, so I've been waiting a while, scared out of my mind that I'm in the wrong building and I'm going to fuck up this interview before I even find him. They call him again, and someone else who would know where he was. No one answers. I'm putting on my most calm, collected face, like this isn't even remotely a problem to me.

Cheryl walks up to me and has this pitying, mothering tone as she talks to me. "The meeting was here?" I explain it's a work-study interview and that he had explained the address as the footer of his email, 35 West 4th, Suite 777. She goes "Ohhhh okay. He's probably down in the theatre, that's where he usually is, so do you want to go look for him?" She sends me down with this guy who works there to go find him.

There's stuff going on in the theatre - I am intrigued and curious as to what they are doing, but Seo isn't among the people in the house. We poke around the offices at the front of the theatre. Empty. The guy takes me back up to the office upstairs.

"There's stuff going on in the theatre so I didn't go in, but he wasn't there. You think he's in the booth? The door was open, but I didn't go up... Think he's there...? Okay, we'll go check again."

Downstairs. Back to the offices at the front of the theatre. A door is open with a teeeeeny tiny little steel spiral staircase, steep as hell, going up to where the booth is. The guy pokes his head in and listens - there are voices up above.

"Yeah, he's up there. I can hear his voice. I've never been up there before. You can go up if you like. Good luck!" And he walks away.

A few small notes before I continue. It is probably almost 4pm at this point. My meeting was supposed to start half an hour ago. I am dressed in this green and blue swirly tube top dress with a little black short sleeved cardigan, black leggings, and my black pumps. I now have to hike up this terrifyingly tiny steel staircase in three inch heels, not knowing where I'm going to arrive when I reach the top. I am also scared of my heel catching in the steel grating and breaking and me tumbling backwards to an awkward death.

I reach the top of the stairs and see two men, an Asian guy in jeans, sneakers and a t-shirt, and a bald man in a button down and khakis opening boxes amid the organized chaos of a lighting booth. The Asian guy looks up and says hello, his name is Shu, asks me who I am. I say my name and he nods and seems to remember what I'm doing there. He leads me into the other part of the booth, where there is more random crap everywhere, a desk, a computer, three monitors, and windows looking down at the theatre.

"Late?" He asks, with a smile (one of the main points in the job description is being on time), and inside I'm like WTF!!!

"I was waiting upstairs at 777." I said, and he looks at me in mild surprise.

"You were waiting? I'm so sorry."

That begins and ends the awkwardness regarding my showing up in this lighting booth about 40 minutes late.

So I'm sitting in a swivel chair and he's behind the desk and he tells me about how the Steinhardt department is broken down, the theatres they have, what my job will be, then scheduling. He mentions right off that it'll only be 7.50 an hour, but a job is a job and it's in theatre, so I don't really care how crappy the pay is. He makes sure to emphasize that it's the powers way up high that determine pay, not him. I understand completely.

I feel so out of place in super nice clothes in a dusty, messy lighting booth, but at least I look cute.

We talk for probably half an hour - he's really quite nice and seems like the kind of person I would get along with brilliantly. Really thick accent, but he's incredibly intelligent and I was just basking in the company of someone who does their job with passion. He says at the end, with a smile, that I will "probably - yeah, probably - yeah, most likely will be hired." Score.

I shake his hand, clamber back down the staircase, stagger onto the street, and meet mum in a cafe next door.

Later, I also discover that the Tisch building in the heart of the Village that Foxervalls and I found is the other part of my studio. Score.

That is my story. I more than likely have a job at NYU. Wheee.