Jesus you pricks are desperate (...and somewhat effective)

So I picked up an application form for Citigroup at a career fair the other day and, for a moment, forget the company is a slimy, scamming pile of corporate shit. After having just heard that the CEO of said company was under scrutiny for using federal bailout money to fly his family on the corporate jet to Mexico, I was hesitant to apply. But fuck, who wouldn’t do the same thing in his position? (In case you were all unaware, exorbitant sums of money buy you out of any moral or legal obligations, so house arrest equals a 400 square acre resort for the next years…boo-hoo.)

Anyway, what had me so forgiving, and so intrigued were the picturesque would-be coworkers featured on the packet. In front of a bright, lively background of cubicles (no, I don’t know how they do that) sit five employees of Citigroup, who are apparently illustrating the fact that every day is casual Friday…or, they’ve just returned from a laid-back Applebee’s lunch break in which they chat and laugh just like in the campy commercials. Also illustrated is the implied notion that there is no way in Hell I’m good-looking enough to work at Citi. The two men to the left are closest to the camera and eying the viewer in a blatantly homoerotic way, while a black, Dolomite looking fellow is standing, shirt unbuttoned halfway, between two women that, I’m pretty sure I’d tell any lie in the world to get in their pants, or, at the very least, remove their clothes (preferably in unison.)

So maybe I’m no “Trent” or “Todd” or whatever kind of fuck-bagger names these guy’s parents gave them to match their stunning, yet feminine good looks, but what I wouldn’t do to be one. I’d have my bleach-tipped cohorts to style my hair and give me advice on home design, a token black buddy, but decidedly not black enough to pose any sort of a threat, and, apparently, a boatload of irresistible women who’d hopefully turn my days in the office to replays of the poorly scripted pornos which you watch and say, “oh, that’s never gonna happen!” Think again prick, I’m with Citigroup now!

It seems to me the whole corporate office must be a harem of mad sex and gay dudes buying me free drinks after work…And you know what? I’m not really above all that. The situation could only be made better by the job description, which is, more or less, calling up useless freeloaders to let them know they fucked up on their credit payments and we’ll be taking their yacht back within the week. If you can name a career more satisfying than one that involves dicking around on a computer all day, taking insanely long lunch breaks, letting cocky assholes know that “guess what? You’re poor now!” and indiscriminately sticking it to every coworker in a miniskirt, you’re full of shit ( …or I’ll take the job you’re offering.)