HAA-EE DAH NOT FARROW DIRECTION VEY WERR -by Siren

A few months ago, I had the honor of interning at the third top graphic design firm in Houston. This was a great opportunity, and being that I was going to graduate from college soon, it was great experience that I'd never get just in the classroom. I did learn a lot, I must say. But it was not an experience I look back on with fond memories.

I should have known something was askew the first time I called about the job. The receptionist put me through to the woman I was supposed to speak to. Her name was Haesun* and the phone rang about six times before she picked up. She was obviously Asian, and her accent was heavy. I had to ask her to repeat herself a quite few times during the short conversation. I was to come in the following Friday for an interview at 9am.

So I dress up nice, and sort my way through the directions she'd given me, and find myself in a classy office building. The firm itself was up a stylishly crooked staircase. Inside were all kinds of cool things. There was a mirrored statue of some kind of animal dancing, and to the right there was an assortment of animal masks hanging on the wall. The statue was donning a camel mask, and it appeared that his mask was switched periodically. To the left was a chair made entirely (or so it appeared) of Gibson guitars. Straight ahead of me was a huge conference room with expensive stained glass tables and about fifteen comfy-looking swivel chairs. There were a few rich-looking women sitting at the tables while a man pointed to various charts and a television screen.

The receptionist asked me to have a seat on this fluffy couch facing away from the conference room. I leaned my giant portfolio case against the side of it and sat down. At this point I was very antsy, and I noticed an assortment of logos mounted on the wall to my left. I couldn't sit still, so I got up to take a closer look at them. Just then, a short Asian woman who looked about sixteen charged into the room and said "Please sit there! I be with you in few minute."

Her tone had suggested that by my not sitting on the couch, I was ruining some kind of plan she was executing. I felt like I had screwed up. That I had let her down, and now there was no way she'd ever give me a job. Well, I wouldn't find out that particular day, as she barged in ten minutes later and said "Can you come back nother day? I have meeting now."

So, I'd gotten up at the crack of dawn to go on this interview. I had gotten insanely nervous. I had worn my ONE nice outfit. And now she wanted me to come back another time??? FINE. So we rescheduled and I ended up getting the job.

I should have known how difficult she was by that first impression. She has lived in America for years, apparently. Yet, she still has very little comprehension of the English language. Everything she told me to do was either muddled or impossible. She'd tell me to hang up these t-shirts in this little hallway...I was to use brown twine and clothespins, neither of which was located anywhere inside the confines of the company walls. And then she'd act as if it were my fault. One of my main duties was to scan pictures out of stock books. She'd go through the book pointing out various pictures, saying "Dis wan, aaand...dis wan..." She'd choose about fifteen at a time and hand me the book so I could get to work. If you've ever thumbed through a stock illustration book, you know that all the drawings look basically the same. Sometimes I wouldn't be certain of the ones she'd pointed to, and go in to ask her. This was a mistake. She'd act as if I was an idiot for even asking. Even though when I'd ask her, she wouldn't even know which picture she'd told me to scan. She'd sit and stare at the page with a confused look on her face and finally just shrug and say "Yes, dat wan."

I had a recurring problem with her with what she called the "Sampre Room"...(sample room). It was where they kept all the samples of the firm's work. Annual reports, T-shirts, promotional items like mugs and pens, etc. Another of my jobs was to put away any samples that would come in. The room was filled (and i mean filled) with boxes of these samples, all with labels and put in alphabetical order. I had to find the box the new samples were to go in, and shove them in. The problem? All the boxes were on shelves above my head and they all weighed around 150 pounds each. They were also all entirely full. No more samples would fit inside them. If they were full, I was supposed to make a new box. Unfortunately, the new box would have to be put in alphabetical order, which meant I'd have to move ALL of the boxes around. And again, they were all above my head and heavy as hell. This seemed to be too hard for Haesun* to comprehend. She would come over to my cubicle and say "Haa-ee, need to work in sampre room today, a-riiiight?" every day. And every day I'd take her in there and show her that all the boxes were full. And of course, she thought I was the idiot.

The internship counted as a part of my grades for school, so I had to take in an evaluation form for her to fill out and sign. I'm not sure exactly what I was thinking having HER fill it out. She actually said that I didn't follow directions well. How the hell can I follow directions when I don't know what someone is saying? And she'd get mad and sigh really loudly when I'd ask her to repeat herself. What the hell did she expect me to do? NO one could understand her, apparently, because she was always on the phone, yelling the same jumbled, broken-English phrase into it repeatedly. I'll bet anyone she calls takes their phone off the hook for a good hour after, for fear she'll call back. Did I mention that she was a crappy designer? Did I also mention that her husband was an amazing designer, and one of the art directors? I wonder how she got that job...

* Names have not been changed.