Exchanges

I’m pissed.

I read in the paper this morning about a new bar in New York City called The Exchange Bar and Grill. New York City has a new restaurant open every day. What’s the big deal, right? The big deal is, the gimmick for this place is brilliant, and the pisser is – I didn’t think of it.

See, it’s called The Exchange because the prices of food and drinks fluctuate with demand – like the stock or commodity markets. It even has a ticker tape flashing the current menu prices based on demand. If a specific type of beer is popular, its price will go up; other equivalent beers’ prices will go down. Any one item won’t fluctuate more than a couple bucks up or down. Can you imagine? Say a pint of Guinness will set you back $6 ordinarily. If you and everyone and their dog like Guinness, well, you could pay $8. If it’s just you who can stomach that sludge, maybe you’ll pay $4. Four bucks is a big swing when you’re talking draws.

This is proof you can, indeed, get drunk on economics.

Seriously. Why didn’t I think of that?

And once again, I’m reminded of how much I need a job and how fracking nerdy I am.

On that front, I also had a phone interview yesterday with a staffing agency in the financial industry. I’d put in my resume there on the off chance they might have something I was completely over or under qualified for.

Staffing agent: You’ve got quite an impressive resume, Ms. Bakker.

Me: Thank you. Yes, I’ve had extensive experience in the –

Staffing agent: Would you be interested in being an executive assistant?

Me: What would that entail?

Staffing agent: Well, you’d be taking care of a VIP in the financial industry – taking meeting minutes, setting up appointments –

Me: Filing, dictation, coffee?

Staffing agent: Perhaps.

Me: Ma’am, no offense, but my skills and experience far exceed what you’re describing.

Staffing agent: I understand. Unfortunately, you don’t meet the qualifications of the other positions we’re looking to fill. In fact, your skills are grossly inadequate.

Grossly inadequate? I’m pretty sure no one has ever uttered those words in reference to me since 8th grade Industrial Arts class when I was afraid of the band saw.

Me: I see. Well, thank you for your time.

Staffing agent: Ms. Bakker, I would be happy to keep your information on file in the event we receive a listing that more closely matches your qualifications and career goals.

At this point I refrained from divulging that I’d considered both exotic dancing and a gig at Dunkin’ Donuts as possible career moves. And then I kicked myself for looking down on an executive assistant position to a “VIP”, although I couldn’t help but conjure images of Anne Hathaway in The Devil Wears Prada.

I just thanked her, hung up and chucked my phone across the room.