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Hustlin’ (For The Meantime)

September 21, 2009

“Rent is due on the first of the month, so I’m hustlin’.” – Outkast, “Myintrotoletuknow

Let me just say that anybody who is between the ages of 21-24 that is originally from out of state and still in NYC is a hustler. Either that or they are collecting countless reams of cash from their parents, who are still in a position to dole out disposable income to them. Since I’ve recently exhausted my own allowance, I’ve to go get a job. And quick.

How did I survive the summer? Long story. Had a job, got laid off. Through no fault of my own, either. The people I worked for were a bunch of silly bastards. How do you over-hire? I’ve never even heard of that.

Whatever. Long story short, a brotha needs a jizzob. Let me tell you something about me–I don’t give a fuck. So long as I’m making my monthly expenses and I’m not compromising myself, I’ll work anywhere.  Shit, I’m headed to the new Buffalo Wild Wings right the cot damn now.

[By the way, ain’t it about a bitch that a graduate from a Top 40 college is seeking a server position at a sports bar and restaurant? Doesn’t a degree from an institute of higher education and an esteemed one, at that, have any pull?  Obviously not.

And then, for the low blow–don’t some employers still have minority hiring quotas geared toward Helping-A-Brotha Out as a result of all the institutional racism that’s been proliferated in this country throughout the years?  I mean, Katrina-FEMA, subprime mortgages, educational steering, you name it, y’all still have some loads to pick from!  If such quotas still exist, with my calm and amiable manner, clean-cut appearance and proper speech, you’d think these companies’ human resource people would just be bombarding me with W-2s!  I’m just saying!]

I kid, I kid.  And I don’t really want a free pass.  It’s the age of Obama, man–I just want to be better than all the other applicants, fair and square.  So I’m not playing.  I’m not lazing.  I’m ironing the ol’ Express pants and shooting resumes everywhere.  Hell, I’m about to see wassup w/ the new Chipotle.

[How ridiculous is this, as far as apps go?

Dumbass Job App

Dumbass Job App

What the hell does #13 even mean?]

Anyway, we’ll see what happens.  We grinding out here.  And don’t think just ’cause I have to get a job like everyone else and NYU wormed their way out of approving my thesis film that I’m not keeping sight of my goals.  I came to New York for a reason. I’m too damned ambitious and I listen to too much J. Cole, Kid Cudi and Drake to stop. Best believe–I’ve got some ideas for that ass.  Stay tuned.

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