Later, I went over all my reasons for being qualified to use Photoshop to turn clients' photo shoot fuckery into collages for their personal albums. I showed her the makeup of my thesis work: image files that were all saved on layers so that one could see what had been done and how it had been done. In response, she checked her cell phone. Then she magnanimously started to wax poetic about the features in Photoshop known as the Filters.
"Do you know what a Gaussian Blur is? How do you use it? Tell me the steps. I want to see if you are really qualified for this position." She had me repeat this formality for the Stained Glass and Watercolor features. I felt my fingernails tearing into closed palms. This was akin to telling a seasoned pianist to try a Casio programmed on "Moonbeam" or "Dazzle" because it would make their music sound prettier.
She never said he'd hire me, even though I started the next day at 9 am sharp. I'm only there for a trying-out, 3 eight-hour shifts. No lunch. I never filled out a W2 because "the accountant never gave me those." I hate and am leery of working on spec, and yet I haven't walked out, because being poor makes you do dumb things. I can only hope that everything will work out... Well, money-wise, maybe. I expect everything else to be a complete disaster.
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