Two years ago, if you were to tell me I would now be living in LA, I would laugh in your face. Then, I would retreat back to my college dorm of a Boston apartment and think to myself, “Yeah, I know I’ll eventually end up in LA.”
After a few months of living out here, I took a job in probably the exact opposite industry that I’m qualified for. I majored in film and theater and I took a job as an “admin assistant” for a guy who sells air conditioners.
I have “admin assistant” in quotations because I basically was a secretary for a guy who ran a start-up business out of his home as a manufacturer’s rep for probably the most boring industry in the world besides pink-soap-manufacturer-for-public-restrooms.
When I read the Craigslist ad, there was no indication that this would be a home office. However, when I had my interview in a Jack in the Box, I became a tad suspicious.
The second interview took place in his home office. It was located near an old folks’ home, which is the opposite of an elementary school which is the exact place a sex offender is not allowed to live. Hence, I deduced he was a sex offender.
However, I did not want access to proof, as I was happy I was actually getting some form of income. Therefore, I decided putting a butter knife in my bag was protection enough.
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