Tuesday, January 31, 2006

In which my potential capitalist overlords demonstrate their hip and irreverent solicitousness

So, this morning, the U.S. Postal Service knocked on my apartment door and left a package from Kiki's.

The card revealed that the basket came courtesy of the company that offered me a job recently. The strange thing is, I didn't remember giving this company my home address. Hmmm.

I subsequently emailed the recruiter, thanking her for the basket, and alluding to my confusion, whereupon she explained that my home address was on the physical, pen-and-paper employment application I'd filled out during my face-to-face interview. The story suddenly became much less funny/cool/sinister than it would have been, particularly given the company concerned. Oh well.

Being the export of a hip Bay Area confectioner, the candy basket contains, of course, not only the standard-issue Raisinets, Smarties, etc., and not only a company-logo moon pie and T-shirt, but also some items that allude to the social practices of the local fauna.

Plus candy cigarettes, which I have not seen since I was about 12 years old. These remind me of the fact that my interview hotel offered a yo-yo, Slinky, etc. inside a little "kiddie-toy minibar" in the desk. All part of the careful cultivation of juvenile play behavior endemic to Bay Area geekdom. I could, at this point, work up some kind of cultural commentary on the relationship between play, creativity, immaturity, and geek culture, but Douglas Coupland already did that about a decade ago.

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