You lost today kid, but it doesn't mean you have to like it

So I went with Job Plan B, which would be fine except I had like 30 plan A's. Because my new attempts at anonymousity mean I can't disclose exactly which London Drugs AV department I work in, right now all I can say is that I don't work at the one with the sardonic hockey/hippie haired employee who can't be bothered to learn the cash register or his boss's name and wearing the humiliating Be Patient With Me I'm A Retard pin. That's definitely not me, I prefer to think of my hair as "Homeless Chic." Oh, I can sell you speakers. That's no problem. I like speakers, and Blu-Ray players and receivers and cables and all that stuff. What I don't like is people. That's what I bought all this crap for in the first place, because actually leaving the house to see a movie, like I did the other night to see Forgetting Sarah Marshall, is like that scene in Temple of Doom where Indiana Jones ("Junior!") and Short Round get stuck in the shrinking room with the spikes. Only instead of spikes emerging from the floor it's a mixture of filthy rednecks, slimy emos, and underaged undermedicated teenagers. And instead of stone walls closing in it's a shrinking room made of sticky floors, walls, and ceiling. And everywhere you see ads. With cells phones ringing in the background. For $14.50.

This job will be fun. I'll make it fun. It's not a job I fear losing and as such I'll feel free from failure and pressure. I've never worked for a big company before so hopefully I can take advantage of that and maybe end up somewhere warmer as a result. Otherwise a management position for a clever guy like me, competing only against high-schoolers, should be pretty attainable. That's unlikely though, as I only hope to last long enough to pay off my debts, get a Blu-Ray player, and maybe an electric razor and a new popcorn maker. Truly, my goals have finally sunk to an achievable level.

So this is the plan for the short-medium term, as much as I'd rather have any of the jobs I applied for. In the meantime, I'll continue to hold out hope that a shadowy figure will approach me one night after work, ask me for a drink, chat about sports or the weather before handing me a blank business card with an address and time on the back. That address will be an empty field off a long dirt road, surrounded by a chain link fence and with no buildings or people in sight. I'll walk up to the fence, look around, see nothing but a cool spring breeze russle through the long grass. I'll step back, take on last look around, turn back towards my car and stop suddenly. An older man would be standing there, with white, wispy hear and wearing grey suit, black overcoat and a grey fedora. He'll be standing in front of a black limousine with the engine running quietly. I'll look around, puzzled how I failed to notice anything approach.

"Please sir, we must be going."
"Wait. Who are you, where did you come from, what's going on?" I'll foolishly stutter.
"You were approached. The Company has needs for a man of your particular talents."
"You don't know who I am."
"You're quite wrong, sir. It is you who does not know yourself."

With no possible response, I simply stare in silence before following the man into the limo.

"Welcome to the Company," the man says, then smiles. "It has been a very long time coming."

Product training Friday. *SIGH*