The Job Status:
Hot Dog on a Stick wasn't actually hiring in this area. -Darn, no sweet uniform (click to see) for me.
As for being a "Professional Test Subject"... The only studies that I know of are for "whiplash victims" and people suffering from pain in strange places. -Yeah, no.
So, I was called by "Epicenter Fitness" and just hours after the interview, I was asked to "join the team."
I get to wear a rad little shirt that says "Epicenter Fitness." Woop, woop. Its a pretty fancy gym. There is a yoga studio, a kickboxing studio, a cycling studio, an aerobics studio, a "fast fitness" section, a weight room, and a normal machine area. All of the machines have little flat-screen tvs with remotes. -Its pretty hi-tech/hi-class. And I get a free membership. I work at the Front Desk, so I get to answer the phone lots and lots. It is the coolest thing in the world... Everytime I answer, I get to say:
"Thanks for calling Epicenter-Seattle where we're shakin' up the world of fitness, this is Elaina, how may I help you?"
Yeah, so that's my job. And I get to ride the bus even more now that I have to work on 3rd avenue. As a matter of a fact, the other day when I was coming home from work, I had my most hilarious experience of all on the bus:
On the way up the hill, a big, black girl boards the bus singing, “I’m havin’ a paaaaa’tay!” Haha. I can't tell if she's just happy. Or crazy.
However, most of the people heading "up the hill" are en route to Harborview which has quite the extensive mental illness program. The girl talks about how out of breath she is, and uses the excuse, "Yeah, well, its 'cause I'm fat. And so was my mama." Before I can conclude whether she IS truly crazy, or just really outspoken, she tells a stranger, “I’m goin’ to Harborview to have an abortion. And I’m going to sell my body and my blood for money! –But I actually can’t because I have a mental illness.”
Some people turn and shoot glares in her direction, some people bury their head even further into themselves in embarrassment, and some giggle and attempt to inconspicuously stare (aka: Elaina).
Then she breaks out into song again, “Let’s talk about sex!”
After doing her little rendition of the Salt 'n' Peppa' song, she scoots closer to an innocent mans and attempts to teach him Spanish. Why? I do not know.
Finally, her stop comes, and she gets up and says to a man (who obviously doesn't realize that he's in the aisle a bit, “Sir, excuse me. Umm, excuse me sir." But the man doesn't move, so she says, "Jesus Christ mister, don’t you fucking understand English?”
At this point, I am at the peak of my staring. My eyes never leave her mass, as I must record the happenings for this blog. Luckily, she turns to the girl across from me, rather than myself, and says, "What are you lookin’ at Mexican ‘ho?”
the "Mexican girl" replies, “Wha?"
and the big, black crazy girl contines, “I’m not a lesbian so quit starin’.”
“Get the fuck off the bus, nigga," the "Mexican girl" is MAD.
In other news, I went to a gay club with a straight guy the other night. I danced with a gay guy who told me, "You are soo hot for a girl."
And I responded, "Umm.. Aren't you gay?"
"Well, yeah, most of the time, but I like YOU."
I also saw my first cross-dressers. Men as women = uber hot.
Oh, and Jason and I made a bum YELL at us. He started screaming about how we NEVER worked for a single dollar in our life. And how it was always just given to us. Yeah, he told us off as he dug through a garbage can. I kept having to turn my back, as we walked away, to make sure he wasn't going to run up behind us and assault us. Scary.
One other item of note. When I got off the bus today, there was an old woman lying on the ground with blood coming out of her mouth. I don't know what happened. The EMTs were tending to her.
I love Seattle.
