I announced my intention to begin writing for the college newspaper and my friends all thought it was a good idea. I was reasonably intelligent, I was a good writer and I liked to follow topics that make you think: politics, science and popular culture, for example. Before I went in for my first interview with the paper’s editor, my buddy, Matt, handed me a bag with two funny vintage t shirts in it. “You want to make a good first impression right?” he said, knowingly. “Everyone thinks that writers are supposed to be witty and sarcastic and nothing says sharp and quick like really good funny t shirts.”
I thanked him and took the bag, a little apprehensively. What Matt said might be true, at least if you write for The Onion or Cracked, but I’m not sure that the dress code for a school newspaper is quite what he thought it was. Personally, I’d been considering a corduroy sport coat with leather elbow patches. Very academic looking. I hummed and hawed about the choices for a few hours, then finally decided to combine the two and hope for the best. I dug out my favorite pair of jeans -baggy but not too loose at the ankles- a studded belt (for a slightly punk effect), my pair of ancient Doc Marten’s boots (although in a concession to the formality of an interview, I did spend several hours polishing them), one of Matt’s funny tshirts and then the corduroy jacket over top of it. I figured the whole ensemble had enough of an eclectic look to not seem too serious, while not being weird enough to make me look overly dramatic and needy. I was still worried about the shirt, but I figured I could always do up the jacket to hide it if it appeared that I’d made the wrong choice. The next decision was whether to bring my laptop or not, and then whether I should bring the netbook or the MacBook. Trendy or cool? I decided to play it cool and threw the MacBook into my backpack, then it was off to the student center.
A rather bored and alarmingly professional looking receptionist informed me that the editor was stuck on a conference call, but would be with me shortly if I’d care to have a seat. She was dressed in a dark gray business suit with a white dress shirt and sensible black shoes. I began to worry that I’d overplayed the “funky writer” hand. I needn’t have worried.
When a door opened for a short guy wearing a shirt emblazoned with a photo of Chuck Norris and the slogan “Chuck Norris Destroyed the Periodic Table Because He Only Recognizes The Element of Surprise,” I knew that Matt had been right in giving me those vintage t shirts. I casually unbuttoned my jacket so that my Ghostbusters logo was clearly visible and stood to meet my future boss.
