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Pie
Driver PROPAGANDA
Pie Driver Interviews
Not My Desk
PD: So I'm going
to interview you for my site. we'll do one question at a time, and it
will be this cool email string that we can go back and edit and make even
cooler. Cool?
NMD: BRING IT.
PD: What made you
start a web site about temping?
NMD: Allow me to
set the stage for you. The year: 1942. The city: Nazi-occupied Amsterdam.
The writer: 13 year-old Anne Frank, hiding in her attic, writing faithfully
in her diary. Powerful. Poignant. Unforgettable.
Funny? Mmmm…
no. Not a lot of humor, almost no mention of fiendish fax machines,
vengeful copiers, or unpredictable office chairs. Little talk of nose-hair
issues or ties getting caught in paper-shredders or male co-workers'
nipples showing through their dress shirts. No essays, not a single
one, about fart noises.
Obviously, there
was a niche, just waiting to be filled. That's where I came in.
Okay, seriously,
I had been writing essays about my temp jobs and sending them (unsolicited)
to my family and friends. One day it occurred to me: why should only
they suffer, when I can hurt others with my immature and predictable
stories? There's a world of strangers out there, and I can reach them,
and annoy them, through the internet.
PD: What sort of
disease did you contract that made you want to eschew the full-time job-thing
for the uncertainties of the temping world?
NMD: Well, for a
while there, it wasn't so uncertain. There were jobs galore out there.
I could pick and choose. I could specify what I was looking for, be
picky about location and pay. I could wear nothing but big cotton briefs
to my jobs and no one would complain for fear of me quitting. Many of
my interviews ended with me forcing the interviewer to do a little dance
for me and shower me with fresh-baked cookies. It was a temp's market.
The tables have turned these days. Now they're wearing the big cotton
briefs, so to speak.
PD: Now that the
boom is over, and George W. is firmly planted in the White House, is finding
work become easier or harder?
NMD: It's definitely
harder. Back when Clinton was running things, he'd call me every few
days to make sure I was finding work. Nice guy. But does Bush do that?
No. Of course not. He calls maybe once every two weeks. What a jerk.
PD: Are you, as
rumored, the Uber-temp? Or more of the Anti-Temp? Or just a plain, old
Generic Temp?
NMD: I'd have to
go with Anti-Temp. Definitely not Uber-Temp. An Uber-Temp would be a
Jack-of-all-Trades, completely proficient at everything, like Lara Flynn
Boyle is in the film "The Temp", before she freaks out and
starts killing everyone in predictable ways. I'm not a Jack-of-all-Trades.
I'm more of a Jerry-of-a-Couple-Things. I can do a few things okay,
but I have to fake the rest.
Also, it's rare
that I really take advantage of the resources the Generic Temp has at
his or her disposal. I hardly ever call in sick, or skip work, masturbate
in the lobby, or walk away from jobs. I'm also not really looking for
anything permanent, like a lot of temps are.
So, I guess I'm
the Anti-Temp. I care a little too much about what my employers think
of me to be a complete pill. And I don't steal as much as I should.
PD: What came first:
the employed temp or the unemployed temp?
NMD: This is a silly
question. Too silly to bother answering.
Although...
No, it's silly.
But...
Hm. I mean, to be
an employed temp, you need to sign up at a temp agency and get an assignment.
Between the time a temp signs up and gets assigned, I suppose they are
officially a temp, yet not employed. So, it would seem that an unemployed
temp would have to come first. But then, let's say the "temp"
decides he doesn't want to temp, or is so droolingly incompetent or
surly or ugly that he never does get assigned... was he ever a temp?
AGGGGGGHHHHHH NOW I WON'T SLEEP!
DAMN YOU, DAVE OF PIEDRIVER!!!!
PD: What's the
competition like in the "Web sites about temping" world?
NMD: Well, the wonderful
thing about the World Wide Superweb Interhighway is that there are so
many "lanes" or "avenues" that each "traveler"
or "surfer" can "go" where they "want"
with little or no "hassle". This means the competition is
nil. People can read my website right along with their other hundred
or so favorite semi-daily temping humor journals.
Still, I pretend
I'm in fierce competition with other sites, just to add a little excitement
to my life. I also pretend there are agents of a shadowy branch of the
government after me, when in reality, they're just after my neighbor.
PD: Do you see
any way of amassing large amounts of wealth by running your web site?
People have got rich on less, you know.
NMD: The way I see
it, I have a few options for getting rich. 1) Let people read the first
paragraph of an article, then charge them for the rest, like Salon.com
does. 2) Put up tons of pop-up ads, as well as placing full-page ads
between the front page and the articles, like Salon.com does. 3) Change
my site name to salom.com, and get bleed-off traffic from people trying
to visit salon.com. And charge them for it.
The fourth (and
best) option would be to charge money to people who want to interview
me, like you are. Say, about $75,000 per interview. Deal?
PD: If Notmydesk
becomes a Hollywood blockbuster, who do you see playing yourself? Who
would be your as-yet-nonexistent girlfriend? Who would play me?
NMD: Look, if we're
talking NMD the Motion Picture, there's really only one answer. Who
could play me? Who could capture the innocence, the playful mirth, the
wide-eyed wonder? Who could bring the pain, and power, and promise to
the screen? Who could emulate the joie de vivre, while at the same time
mirror the despondency and desolation? Really, only one man. Michael
Winslow, the sound-effects guy from the Police Academy movies.
As for my girlfriend,
she could be played by a digital amalgam of Christina Ricci (body, limbs
& head) and an anklosaurus (powerful, heavily-armored club-like
tail used for smashing enemies). And you could be played by Haley Joel
Osment.
PD: What if they
wanted Paul Verhoeven to direct and Joe Eszterhas to write it?
NMD: Hey, Verhoeven
did RoboCop, and I'm down with that. As far as I know, Joe Eszterhaus
is incapable of 'writing' anything.
PD: What if Episode
Two sucks just as bad as Episode One?
NMD: Thing is, hombre,
it don't matter none. If Episode II sucks, we'll go to III with the
everlasting hope that it will somehow save the prequel trilogy. If II
is good, we'll hope III will continue the trend. Either way, we (Star
Wars fans) are gonna be in the queue on
opening day. Sure, we would like nothing more than to wash our hands
of the whole affair. But who are we kidding? And besides, wasn't bitching
about Jar-Jar (and the rest of the Episode I suckiness) a lot of fun?
You might say we are the Gundark, and Lucas has got us by the ears,
and no amount of wrestling will get us free, and holy shit what a giant
fucking dweeb I am for having said that.
PD: And so Not
My Desk heads into oblivion with only a temporary name badge to keep him
employed. Ah, NMD, you are my hero…
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