The "Artist's" Assistant Gig

Wow.

So, today I had the most ridiculous "job interview" of my life.

It all started with a Craigslist ad (exactly, this is going to be a good story!) for an Artist's Assistant, which the ad defined as someone to run the blog/ social media side of the business as well as general PR and keeping the artist company.

ACTUAL AD

These are things I can totally do. Plus, I was totally psyched to hang out with and help a real artist- like, an artist who sells their work. I imagined a mentorship of unequal-able magnitude.

I imagined learning the craft, refining my own skills, being mentioned in famous blogs when the artist did interviews. I imagined my perfect artsy-fartsy life.

I drafted an e-mail full of youthful hope and my impeccable resume. I highlighted all the things I had done in college, my extensive PR work with different organizations, my own Etsy shop- all of it laid bare.

Then came the response with a link to the "artist"s website at the bottom.

She sells hand-painted glasses.


You might be thinking to yourself "Wow, this girl is such a snob. Hand-painted glasses are art!"

Well, you didn't see the glasses. They're bargain bin glassware with giant 40's or 21's painted on them and "HAPPY BIRTHDAY" painted around the base. It's like every sorority girl's craft box threw up on this woman's website. Seriously, though, her "hand-painted glasses" aren't even as cute as the one my big in APO made for me during our sophomore year.

DRAMATIC REPRESENTATION OF UGLY CRAFT PROJECT

Even after the double-whammy red flag fest of Craigslist + hand-painted glasses, I figured it could still be a good job. My hopes and dreams of one day appearing in art museums may have been dashed, but maybe it would be some nice housewife with a tricked-out craft room or an older lady whose children had all gone off into the world.

I didn't know, but it didn't seem like such a bad setup.

Today was the morning of my "interview." I got up at what seemed like the crack of dawn (8:45am) and made my way over to her "studio."

Her studio was really her modest (re: super shitty and vaguely scary) suburban home. The house is a one story mustard yellow, ranch-style house from the 70s with busted rust colored shutters.  The other homes on the street were nice, but this one hadn't had any work done on it since maybe 1987. At the latest.

This beautiful picture was framed with two old (OLD) Cadillacs in the driveway. I'm not sure either of them could run.

DRAMATIC REPRESENTATION OF SHITTY CAR

Then I felt bad for being judgmental of this home's appearance. I didn't know who lived there or what kind of life they had. Bad me!

So, I sucked up my three red flag warnings and went to the front door and knocked. Through the glass, I could see piles of shit- hoarder level piles of bed foam, paper, trash, etc.


She (who I shall call "Sally"), a large 40 or 50 something white woman, answered the door wearing nothing but a giant Grateful Dead band t-shirt. She may have been wearing shorts under it, but if so I couldn't see them and I'm pretty sure those giant, saggy titties were not being helped by a bra.

DRAMATIC REPRESENTATION OF SALLY & HER MESS- THOUGH THIS WOMAN IS CLEARLY  NICER AND  WEARING MORE CLOTHING. 

She led me through her mess into an unfinished (or just trashed, not sure) side room with a computer, two other women, and a paper, trash, and paint covered table. She sat down at the table and gestured for me to sit in the broken computer chair, which I did.

She clearly took this job search far too seriously or had already made up her mind not to hire me, because she was a huge bitch.

Sally turned to me from her folding chair and 1'x1' area of clean space and said, "We need someone to get our brand out there on social media and I can't offer you guidance because I don't know what to do. Tell me about yourself."

Within two minutes of being inside her house, she said, "I don't know anything about social media, and I don't think you're right for the job."

Awkward silence. Like... do I leave?

She scoffed at my suggestion to use Tumblr for its photo quality and to advertise on Craftopolis, and her true intentions/desires came out, "I want someone with 1000 friends on Facebook and 10000 Twitter followers to talk about my glasses. Is that something you have?"

DRAMATIC REPRESENTATION OF WHAT SHE WANTS IN AN EMPLOYEE

Me: "No."

Her: "Well, thank you for your time. Bye."

She didn't want someone to work with her and help her get her own internet following, she wanted someone to pimp out her shitty craft projects on their already popular blog. I didn't bother explaining to her that she wouldn't find someone with what she wanted but that I could do good posts, etc for her and find her some popular blogs to be featured on. I left.

Anyway, the woman is clearly delusional and I had a really good laugh on the ride home.