nin137

Nick's Journal
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2004-06-15 00:25:21 (UTC)

New York (again)

I seriously don't know why I still want a job in finance.
every face i've come across that has weathered the storm
of financial frolic known as "the market" has looked at me
with a haggard, worn-out daze. i went into an interview
today, it felt like all other ones i've gone to, an
eloquently crafted enticement of 50,000 dollars a year
which allows them to bait all the candidates they want,
and after each unsatisfactory interview, they rip it from
the befuddled's mouth and hook another.
as i came into the office i saw the conferenc room door
close on the latest propsect. i sat right outside
listening to the dissonance of tones permeating the big
wooden barricade. there was a high chirpy tone shrilly
explaining everything in a staccatto, obviously flustered,
not knowing what to say; this in turn was underlined by a
bored barratone suggesting utter distaste for the
occassion.
the door flew open soon enough and a flustered bright-
faced guy walked out, with a portly, middle-aged man
ushering him out as quickly as possible. he looked at me
and said "you're next" while motioning to the room and at
the same time indicating the nearness of the exit and
uttering a contemptious "good-bye" which he probably
wanted to add mor to, judging by the outright agitation in
his eyes.
i sat down at the table and watched him come in rubbing
his eyes, listlessly throwing the door shut and
inquiring, "why do you think you are worth this copmany's
time?", in a manner that made me believe i had committed a
crime for stealing his precious time. i finally saw him
in full, receding hairline, unhealthy yellow skin, droopy
eyes, and protruding waistline. the worst were his eyes,
through the initial facade of draping skin there was a
hollow disbelief of his disposition, which resulted not in
truculence, but incredulousness.
to every question i gave an answer to he would heave a
sigh, write two words and look back up at me in the manner
one looks at a helpless fool making an ass of himself. i
walked out of the room into the anxious eyes of the next
fish, i quickly made my way to the streets of new york.
new york is the most orderly chaos ever, through the
drudges of decadence that line the streets with their
hands extended in a desperate plea, to the tightly-wired
business man so secluded from his environment, you'd think
he'd cut off his limbs just so that he wouldn't
accidentally touch a passing person. manhatten has always
struck me as a rated-r movie, you shouldn't be allowed to
see it if you're not mature enough, yet some stumble
unwittingly tugging their children with them, feeding on
the thrill of immersing themselves in something so real.
nowhere i have ever been has shown reality in a truer
light. there are those who beg with their eyes, their
hands, and their skills. the first are the lost tourist
not wanting to openly confront a new yorker, certain of
the wrath they would incur. the second are the beggars,
too dirty and dejected to ever plea anymore, their beg is
one of demand, a statement and inquisition of one's own
nobility. the third sare the business men, bound by their
trade into a life of servitude; some acept it with glee,
prancing around, others reject it as a temporal problem,
hoping to at least escape it momentarily by walking as
briskly as possible.
i get accosted by tourists all the time. i have been in
new york 3 times and been asked directions at least twice
each time. i readily admit that i am honored, although i
dont' know what it means. in my suit i would expect to
get stopped as little as any other young guy there, but
no. this time this family was standing in front of the
new york stock exchange, obviously lost. i was standing
there cos i had nothing better to do. i could see the
look in the father's eyes already as he scanned the mass
of people. finally he and his caravan came toward me and
he asked, "where is the ny stock exchange?". at first i
thought he was fucking with me but then that impassioned
plea of a smile came. as i pointed straight behind him i
felt a sadness for his kids, for some odd reason
reprimanding him for subjugating his children to such a
spectacle as the harsh reality of "the city".
it quickly faded into the obscure depths of irrational
emotional appeal as i let myself get washed away by the
current of electrifying energy that flowed around me,
making sure all the while to not touch me.


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