Sketchy Job Interviews and A Guy Named Fred

I had a job interview today for a receptionist/office administration position near jane and finch. If you're not from the GTA you won't understand the stigma associated with this part of the city. I thought, "hey a jobs a job...I need professional office experience. The two hour bus ride will definitely be worth it."

The interview was at 2pm for blahblah company. I'm feeling super anxious already because interviews do that to me, and I've never traveled this far from home on my own in a very unfamiliar area. I arrived about an hour early, even though I had gotten a little lost on the way there (thank goodness for googlemaps and smartphones). I arrived on an industrial street and I passed by a couple workers in their garage, some men in jumpsuits, but nobody that looked like me. A girl in her professional blazer and black dress pumps. While I was walking, I was surprised to pass by an Italian bakery. It was really run down and could use a major makeover, but nonetheless I was super early and there was no Tim Hortons or coffee shop nearby so I decided to walk in. I wasn't greeted very kindly, everyone from the shop keepers to the guests at the tables were minding there own business. The customer's looked like general labour workers getting some food for a lunch break. I purchased an apple turnover with a bottle of water, sat down, and tried to ignore the weird looks I received.

As I waited there in the little bakery, eating my (super sweet btw) apple turnover. It started to rain, and I don't mean trickle...I mean rain. I still had about a fifteen minute walk from this bakery and I had no umbrella... I would be going into this interview soaking wet. Maybe the rain will let up? I thought to myself. Well no..no it didn't. I'm standing at the doorway of the bakery thinking maybe I could borrow an umbrella from the shop keeper... it is a family owned business, they would be nice to me wouldn't they? An old man interrupts my worried thoughts and makes small talk with me about the weather. I end up saying, "Yah...I'm going to have to walk though this rain. I forgot an umbrella." He then asks me where I'm going and I tell him 168 Oakblah Road. He offers me a ride down the street and even though thoughts of dying and getting kidnapped enter my mind, walking in the pouring rain and getting soaked for an interview definitely doesn't sound great either. I enter his car and he tells me his name is Fred and he works at a company a couple blocks down. I tell him all about my issue with finding a job and the upcoming interview. During this whole conversation I'm thinking to myself, if he tries to kidnap me i'll punch him in the face and run. I can run...I run all the time at the gym. yah? you can do this mariah. don't be afraid. I try not to think the worst of people around me but at the same time I know I shouldn't be naive and ignorant and place myself readily in danger. Anyways, he turns out to be a super sweet old man who genuinely wants to help me. He doesn't kidnap me (thank God!) and I have arrived at the plaza.

I enter the plaza and I see the exact address I was told to go to, but I don't see the company name listed anywhere. I ask a strange man where I can find unit number 9 and he tells me that I may need to go down the hall, through these doors, and down the next hall. The first hall im in already looks freaky af. It's dark and it's super ghetto. The place looks so run down and deserted. I end up finding unit #9 and there's no sign outside and the door looks like its a push away from falling down. I'm in a deserted hallway...I swear if I screamed nobody would hear me. It just doesn't look right. I end up leaving the hallway because I'm genuinely afraid for my safety and I called the number in the email. It wasn't Amanda (the girl I spoke to through e-mail), but it was a man with a heavy middle eastern accent. He seems surprised at my call and genuinely confused, but he still agrees to meet me. I tell him I can't find the unit and he tells me he will come pick me up. I'm afraid. I'm a little 5'1 petite asian girl. I'm easy meat to snatch up. I'm in this dark run down plaza. Edward googles the number and finds out it isn't even a registered business, and the email is through yahoo.com. He tells me if I'm feeling afraid I should just leave.

So I leave.

I travel to Edward's work, which only takes about an hour (thank God, I don't have to travel all the way back home) and we eat some ramen together and I recount this weird day to him.