jobtown

Yesterday, I was:
-called a “fucking asshole” who was being “watched by the government”,
-almost killed by the Minneapolis lightrail, and
-kicked out of a Hmong farmer’s market, or “asked to leave”, I should say.

All in a day’s work, I suppose. I was just hired yesterday to work on a project with the Spunk Design Machine. It’s a freelance job that’s going to last about a month and I’ll be working with another designer, Joe Kral. I think it’s going to be really awesome, but I’m super nervous. It’s my first real project that I’m working on, with direct contact with a client, and I feel like I’m under a lot of pressure. In addition to that, I’m going to be Art Directing a photo shoot THIS SATURDAY. I’m SO scared. I know I can do it, but I’m still absolutely terrified. Wish. Me. Luck.

The guys, and girl!, at Spunk are really awesome. Everyone there is nice and very interesting, also they are easy to talk to and SUPER TALENTED. I like being there a lot so I hope everything goes well.

Comments (7) left to “jobtown”

  1. Emma wrote:

    All those things probably happened to you because you ARE a fucking asshole and you ARE being watched by the government.

    Doy.

  2. Emma wrote:

    JK!!!

  3. Allison wrote:

    also you are a fucking-superhero, bill. what you are doing sounds so cool, and I know you will ROCK the photo-shoot! I will be there with you in spirit!!
    DOY.

  4. Steven wrote:

    Ha, Bill, I have a hard time believing you of all people did anything to warrant being called a “fucking asshole”, much less get kicked out of a store.
    Best of luck with the job! It looks and sounds really great!

  5. Bill wrote:

    The asshole comment came from a neighborhood character by the name of Bebop (a nickname the guys at Spunk came up with). She basically wandered into the entrance (Spunk is a small office right at street level, and the front door is usually open) and started mumbling and going crazy. When she left and walked down the street, I looked out the window and saw her playing the imaginary bongos on a street sign and dancing around a streetlight pole.

    Later I was asked to leave the market because I was taking some research pictures. Security came and asked us to leave. We didn’t have passes to shoot! Oops!

  6. Steven wrote:

    Those are disappointingly G-rated stories.
    I don’t think I’m alone in saying I was imagining you yelling, fighting, and harassing strangers and business owners.

  7. Bill wrote:

    I can’t even imagine myself doing that!