“They are calming to be around, but I do not understand how Trader Joe’s employees are uniformly happy and it frightens me. It’s as though MDMA is filtered through the central air system. Chummy employees are apparent as you walk the floor, but it’s when you reach the register that the real mindfucking begins. Without fail, I’ve always felt like my cashier was hitting on me. Men and women cashiers alike. They are more interested in what I did this weekend than every guy I’ve dated in the past year, combined. They engage you in chitchat, they smile at you, and they make lingering eye contact. And THEY ALL DO IT. They even do it to each other, except there’s more touching. Once you reach the register, you’ve left Trader Joe’s and you’re on the Love Boat. Or some sexy organic food commune. Yeah. They’ll check you out, all right.”—
My old university in DC was bougie enough that TJ’s was the student grocery shopping staple. We swapped the starving student diet of ramen for artichoke ravioli.But besides the gourmet treats what I had really missed was its customer service, which often involvde this one very cute alumnus of my university hitting on me as he rang up my food. I never knew his name or what bullshit degree he must’ve had that meant working at TJs was his first post-grad job, but those dark eyes, cheekbones, and yes, interest in how my final exams were going made it worth buying some yuppy pasta.
THIS DESCRIPTION OF SHOPPING AT TJ’S IS SPOT ON. I’VE FALLEN IN LOVE WITH MORE BOYS THERE THAN ANYWHERE ELSE ON THE PLANET. EVERY SHOPPING TRIP FEELS LIKE AN OPPORTUNITY FOR A MISSED CONNECTION. AND DID I FORGET TO MENTION THEY’RE OPENING ONE A FEW BLOCKS FROM MY HOUSE?
I was wondering how one gets into the vein of working in a museum?
It's my dream job, but I just never knew how to go about it.
Sorry if that question's phrased really awkward; I tried forever to try to phrase it better but I'm absolutely terrible at being articulate.
I’ve wanted to work in a museum since I was 18 years old. I declared an art history major, I studied abroad in Italy, I worked my tail off in my classes and on my thesis, I received a grant for my thesis research, I had really good relationships with my professors, I volunteered at a local gallery, and I’m currently training as a volunteer docent for the National Trust for Historic Preservation - and then I applied for my dream internship at the Art Institute of Chicago. I got the internship, and realizing that I didn’t really want to leave, I talked to Human Resources about opportunities to stay. I’m working as a temp, applying internally for full-time things, and meeting really cool people. This June marks my one year anniversary of working at AIC. And I couldn’t be happier.
In short, I worked really hard, I asked a lot of questions, and I figured out how to get my foot in the door.