ACCOZZAGLIA

i interviewed for a contracting assignment that is slated to last about six months. i would be copywriting — junior copywriter, specifically — for Nintendo on an upcoming console game.

the interview (which, if ultimately chosen as one of the three or five writers on the project, would be the first in a series of four. can we whisper “HR bureaucracy”?) went what i thought of as swimmingly, even though at this point of my life, that means nothing.

i’ve endured so many interviews where i got nothing but good vibes from the presentation, interaction and hope for being phoned back in for a second interview, only to discover that the “second interview” was really an HR front for screening me out once they saw my frightening visage.

first impressions bite, no matter how pretty the package.

and the nasty part of which i am completely aware is that i was turned down not on merit, but because they freaked out at what i represented: this big ol’ queer professional who doesn’t look het and vanilla enough to keep all the hyenas at bay.

fortunately, i think this was the first time where i went in and didn’t have to freak out over how i looked to someone who had never seen me before.

the “interview look” i chose was an obvious choice for this time in my life: at thirty, grey hair very much interspersed in my natural mousey-dirty brown, i went for something that was professional, clean, summery and dignified. (i bring this up only cos, dammit, it matters to me, so deal.) i threw on some khaki dress trou with cuffs, black shoes one might expect a businessman to wear (but it was Kenneth Cole Reaction, fall ’01 line, ohhhh yeah), a spaghetti tank in dark bright red (the red that olive-hued people like me have to wear to draw the same effect) and a white, darted dress button down shirt, replete with starching and tux cuff links. very Buffy, actually.

the kicker? i wore my hair up with a big ol’ clip in the back. i now know what i’m gonna look like once i hack off the locks in back i’ve had since i was a kid. even the nondescript zirconium nostril stud went buh-bye.

i almost didn’t recongise myself. i just looked so utterly … transparent. it was strange.

and that alone is why i didn’t give it much thought once i met my point person for the interview.

anyhow, the short of it? she was really amazed at the depth and diversity of my experience. she most certainly wants to pitch me to Nintendo. before i even interview with them, they have to thumbs-up/thumbs-down the synopsis of me that she’s composing for their tedious screening process.

because i have a) gaming experience dating to the late 1970s, b) talented copywriting credentials, as evidenced by my portfolio samples and c) top tier-calibre quark experience (required for the job), i have the main skill sets which Nintendo directed Aquent to locate in its talent pool.

all i can hope for is that this pays off in a uncharacteristic change of tide for my so-called, mired life.