The Art of Negotiation
I have replayed the interview over and over in my head and frankly, I cannot see why you didn't hire me on the spot. You asked me what I thought my qualifications were for this job and I told you: 1. I took an art history class once in college, 2. I wrote a paper on Mary Cassatt in high school and 3. I don't have to be home to cook dinner anymore so I can work late occasionally. And yes, I know I said occasionally, but really, do you want me to burn out so quickly that I no longer love standing on my feet all day, offering clients my advice and expertise, only to be told they are just looking as they meander through with a nonfat iced latte? I mean seriously, a person needs some down time.
Really, AGHL, I am at a loss here. Did you or did you not tell me you loved my shoes? Did I, or did I not, listen to you blather on and on about your two boys ages 8 and 10. Guess what, remember that part when I said boys are so much easier than girls? I LIED! HA, just wait until they discover Jack Daniels, and Marlboros and combine those two elements with their free period at school. Oh yeah, you heard me. Be prepared for the fact that there WILL be parties happening on your porch, once you are sound asleep in an ambien fog. COUNT ON IT. Oh and P.S? Their blonde hair will get darker as they get older, and between you and I, you may want to think of playing down the boyscout uniform photos. In my day, wearing that uniform was just another way of saying: "Hey everybody! Come kick my ass!"
Okay, I am sorry I laughed out loud when I asked about the mummies lying all over the place, and you told me they were from an exhibit on sex slaves. I thought you were kidding. But honestly, how do you compare those big piles of bandages to little Asian girls with stilettos? I was perplexed. That's all. Sure I see it now, mummies and sex slaves. Of course, it makes perfect sense. I get it AGHL, I really do. I am so totally on board with that.
I do not want to threaten AGHL, but I want you to hear this from me. The day is going to come when I am a published author and will no longer be buying my art from the Target sale rack. And, when the people from Elle Decor magazine come over to film me in my beautiful home, they are going to ask me where I acquired all my valuable/breath taking art. And it will NOT BE from the M****** M****** Gallery AGHL. Then your boss will say to you, "Hey, didn't you have the chance to hire her?" and you will have to own up to your mistake of epic proportions. You will be fired and your two sons will have to go back to public school, where they will definitely get their asses kicked for the bowl cuts they sport.
Let's make this easy for both of us. My crackberry is charged up and waiting for your call.
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