handsome boyeee modelling school


ice, ice chicken

You know you’re firmly wedged in the twilight zone when you show up for a job interview and the first thing the interviewers say is ‘you are very handsome’ — especially when you’re me. That was by the time we actually sat down for the interview, which was after the grand tour of the school. The compliment was followed by this long silence as I waited for questions – which eventually came. But I had this terrible good feeling that it was more or less a formality. Through it, as I bullshitted a little, in the back of my mind I was thinking – the details of this particular job are great but that I was also really going to be working – there will be real work to do.

I met the principal briefly – a fifty-something man with a shrewd look about him. The two women who interviewed me had to translate for him. The school has a sister-school – some christian girls school in brizzy. Did I mention this job is at a girls school? I don’t know if this is a good thing or not yet. The principal asked me if I knew any principals hehe – yeah right. I said the one from my high school when I was there — I didn’t bother mentioning that we didn’t part on such shit-hot terms after he decided to press charges on me.

(what’s the html &…; code for the greek thingy pi?)
There’s this Melbourne poet called pi O, and he’s got this one:

It’s a Dead Cert
99.9999999999
9999999999999
9999999999999
9999999999999
999999999999%

and that’s the situation with the job. From my understanding all I got to do is sign the contract. I hate talking about things here before they’re cement. Like, the date got postponed. I talked to YYS on the tellingbone and she didn’t even know it was Vals day. Stay tuned – the whole thing could be going nowhere fast.

When you’re whitey (and boyeee) you get the ‘you handsome boyee’ line a lot. All the kids said that to me. There’s a whole bunch of things that the man from mars in my head is trying to grok about this nation, and idolising the West is one of them. I’d like to know how it started, and why. Whatever the case, there’d be no call for me here if it weren’t so. I keep riding and riding the subway loop – the seats are along the walls facing eachother and I sit there scanning, staring and grope and strain as far as I can for a handle on this whole thing – these people. So far nothing.

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