We will rejoice, and dance the dance of happiness, for I did truly kick that interview's ass. Oh yeah, I was poised, I was articulate, I was sincere and I was forthcoming. I had the drive and I had the interest. I had the life experience where I lacked direct work experience. In short, I had the tools and I had the talent.

So yeah, the guy was pretty much offering me a job right there. And of course, right there is where we started running into problems.

Turns out all the positions available required some weekend hours -- this, despite the fact that all of these positions were unusual schedules where the hours varied from day to day. Even with several overnight shifts, not one would allow me to work full time there and keep my present 20-hours-over-the-weekend gig. And frankly, I need to keep that weekend gig because the financial hole I've dug in recent months is only getting deeper.

So, technically the guy's gonna make some calls and see where they might be able to fit me in. Frankly, I'm not too optimistic about it. And that sucks.

Back, as they say, to the drawing board. Meanwhile, I'd gotten two bill-collecting calls before even leaving the house this morning for the damned interview. Ah, things are going well.

And hey, another thing hit me. Because they still had me fill out the background check stuff ... I don't know, I suppose I can take that as a sign that the guy really will try to fit me in somewhere. There actually was a schedule that would have worked, but these are support position for folks living in group homes, and this one was all women, for which they would of course prefer women. Anyhow the biggest point, it seemed, from the background check stuff was to make sure I hadn't had any kind of sexual contact with clients in previous positions -- kinda not a possibility, since this would be my first position of this sort.

But as I'm filling out this stuff, part of it was release forms to be sent to my last three jobs. And here the ghost of how bad CG was for me struck again.

Did I ever tell you all how I lost the job at the nightclub of my discontent? Did I even mention that I actually did get fired from that job -- the only job I've ever been fired from in my life? Now, okay -- fair enough that I'd been hating the place, and in particular hating the new bosss (reciprocated) for all the months that I'd been back. And along those lines, I'd been late several times because being on time is rarely my strongsuit anyway, and it only gets worse when I hate the job.

So yeah, we'd been back and forth on that, and technically that's how I lost that job. Overall, it occurred to me that they are totally free to say that I was fired from their job, which isn't what prospective employers want to hear when they send these things out. In fact, it's really kinda specifically what they're checking to make sure they don't hear.

But it gets worse. And I invoke CG's ghost here because, for one, plenty of the times I was late before this last night actually were her fault. I'd be out with her, and even if I'm pointing out I have to go with an hour still left, she'd somehow get me to continue spending time. I didn't totally blame her for it seeing as I hated the place for coworkers anyway, and I could understand her not digging it due to the customers. Not all of them, mind you, only the skimpily-dressed drunk girls who occasionally grinded on my or otherwise oh-so-subtley flirted. She didn't have anything to worry about, but as this was the start of a relationship I figured her wanting me to quit was reasonable enough.

But I didn't quit. The second reason I must recall that her influence on my life was negative is also the more directly relevant one. This particular night, I'd finally come to the conclusion that I had to break up with her. Oh, I didn't want to. But being a rather Crazy Girl who cloaked her crazy in feminism, CG talked constantly about the evils of pornography, and of how she couldn't possibly spend her life with a guy who was into porn.

Now, anyone who knows me knows that I'm a guy who loves some porn.

Okay, fine. I'm not really the biggest porn fiend in the world (tho I used to be -- I have trophies and everything) but the fact is I don't see the complete evil of it. Some porn is quite offensive, yes. In some ways, I do think we could validly argue of how porn may be detrimental to society at large. Certainly, the majority of porn is trite, unoriginal, and simply in poor taste. But, I after much internal dialogue, I realized:

I honestly don't believe that every woman involved in porn is a dominated, manipulated basketcase who loathes herself due to childhood trauma, who acts out as an adult the abuse she experienced as a child. Some might be, in fact some almost certainly are. But I don't even believe all of this can be true about the majority of them. Most people have some issues. Do I believe that people who make a living having (usually pretty non-standard) sex on camera for mass consumption might have a few? Sure. Are they worse than the rest of us? I wouldn't be comfortable making that statement.

I also don't believe that every man who watches porn is a deviant, misogynistic borderline rapist who will inevitably brutalize the women around him. I don't believe this for the simple fact that I believe most men look at some porn or other at some point or other. It's kind of a booming industry, so it's kind of hard to buy that there's only a tiny niche group of deviants supporting it. Further, I don't believe that the everyday male viewer of porn becomes alienated to the average, normal woman. Maybe some do. But as far as I've known, it doesn't matter how many airbrushed silicon-enhanced bunnies some dude has whacked it to, at the end of the day he'd still rather have a normal, non-group-sex-having woman to actually have sex with -- yes, cellulite and stretchmarks and all.

This part was central to CG's argument, by the way. She was convinced that porn created unrealistic images and expectations of women and sex. And honestly, I have known guys who reflect what she was talking about. They're the same guys who regularly go to strip clubs to drop a few hundred in a night, but couldn't chat up a woman who wasn't being paid to flirt with them to save their lives. I guess I'm saying, those sort of guys are the exception (and a sad one) not the rule. Because really, I don't think the average guy expects real women to behave or act like porn stars any more than the average woman expects real men to look or act like the heroes from romance books and movies. That stuff may give us a little thrill, but at the end of the day a part of the definition of sanity is the ability to tell fantasy from reality. CG was basically arguing that pornography was creating mass insanity in men -- and I just couldn't agree with that.

So, I got drunk this one night and told her so. If you wonder at the need to get drunk, it's mostly because I drink way too much anyway. But more specifically, I wanted to have a few drinks while I pondered, am I really going to break up with a girl I think I'm falling for over porn? Is it really that serious?

Well, I'd like to think it isn't for me, but it seemed like it was for her. Only -- somehow my explaining to her as I just explained here how my opinion differ didn't suffice to break us up. She got mad at me for wanting to break up with her for it. She also demanded an apology the next day because I'd boldly stated, "I like seeing naked women!" Other than that ... yeah, another seven months or so of misery.

Ah, but the point? Drunk off my ass when I was late for work that night. Yes, a graceful way to exit a job. Even with me explaining the context as I just have, it still sounds horrible. Even with me having experienced it myself, being me, it still just looks plain wrong. And yet, it's only permanent record, until there's enough jobs between me and this one to make it irrelevant history.

Though really, the only thing I regret is that I didn't stick to my guns in breaking up with her way back then. Even if she thought we could work it out, my instincts and experience told me otherwise. I was just too afraid of hurting her, and too tired of being lonely, to stick to my guns.

I've said it before: Our actions have consequences. So be careful out there.