Country Club(bed) in the Face…of rejection. How far I stoop.

I slipped and busted my lip trying to climb down the stairs of the semi when Fatty dropped me off at the country club. I went to the interview anyways, toured the facilities. I was literally bleeding. Seriously for a FUCKING dishwasher position at a country club!

All of the redacted in the last post is personal info, plus snippets about a job opportunity I lost at a country club very close to Kevin’s house. I strongly believe it was me not living close enough to the original address I used in the job application that cost me that dishwashing position. I actually could have biked there, if not walked had things went on as planned.

So I didn’t get a callback. One of many job opps I didn’t get a callback for this summer. Either me not being mexican enough to want to be paid under the table a ghastly wage OR transportation? I mean, could there be a more white trash way to enter the country club than exiting a trucker’s semi? Fuck!

The dishwashing crew was 99% Mexican. The golf caddies and other employers and membership were white. The only black person I saw at the country club was Serena Williams playing tennis on the flatscreen in the lounge!

Not white enough to be in the country club, not the right kind of brown to clean their dishes. Ain’t that some shit?

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