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calloused feet (all on permanent loan from Bethany because I didn’t have the fortitude to fight the crowds of back-to-school shoppers nor the patience to piece together a proper interview outfit from H&M). I’ve got my résumé and sample issues of Think stored inside the buttery leather messenger bag my parents bought as a graduation gift. I’ve rehearsed my anecdotes about what it was like to work for the CU Storytellers Project collecting “oral narratives” from total strangers on the streets of New York City. Yes, preparing myself for this interview was almost an adequate simulacrum for the back-to-school rituals of years gone by, when I still naively believed that with the perfect outfit, the perfect backpack, the perfect how-I-spent-my-summer-vacation story, with the perfect reinvention of my former self, my less-than-perfect life could be changed for the better, forever.

(FOREVER didn’t arrive in this morning’s mail. Perhaps tomorrow?)

thirty-nine

She casts a lusty gaze upon Times Square from five stories above Forty-eighth and Broadway. She’s bent over at the waist, and her pendulous breasts peek out from behind her brassy hair extensions. Her mouth is pink, wet, open, and waiting. Her eyes are dead. A French-manicured talon beckons: Hey there, big man. Buy my latest DVD release from Vivid Entertainment Group.

JESSICA DARLING GOES DOWN…CUMMING SEPTEMBER 2006!

Whenever I pass this billboard, I am reminded that my namesake sucks and fucks for a paycheck. I would not want to be her. But one advantage the Other Jessica Darling has over me is that her skills are always in demand. The job title “Porn Star” contains multitudes. There are as many specialties as there are perversities. (For purely educational purposes—right? right?—I’ll take you on a quick alphabetical tour of contemporary porn categories: Anal Queens, Big Boob Babes, Cat Fighting, Deep Throating, European, Foot Fetish, Gang Bangs, Hairy Humpers, Interracial, Jack Off, Kinky, Lesbians, Midgets, Nasty Girls, Orgies, Playmates vs. Pets, Queer, Rock ’n’ Roll, Satanic, Threesomes, Uglies, Voyeurs, Wet and Messy, X-Tremely Dangerous, Yellow Love, and—ick—Zoological.) When asked what she does for a living, the Other Jessica Darling might try to hide behind the polite euphemisms “actress” or “dancer.” But when it comes down to it, the job description “Porn Star” means that the Other Jessica Darling performs sex acts on camera. Her skills are recession-proof.

Mine, not so much.

I first began my job search late last January, three weeks after graduation, during what should have been my crisscross country road trip if Hope and I hadn’t been jacked by the tweakers. Before I even had a chance to report the loss, Ms. Daisy Schlemmer and Mr. Harlan Oakes had already used my ATM card to buy propane cylinders, hot plates, and battery acid at the local ACE Hardware, which should really consider changing its motto to “The Source for All Your Meth Lab Needs.” Ms. Oakes and Mr. Schlemmer must have been disappointed to discover that a single $153.26 transaction drained me of my life savings, not to mention the negative twenty dollars I then owed for “overdraft protection.”

The crime occurred on Day One of our trip, and it seemed like a baaaaaad omen, payback for my attempt at youthful irresponsibility and frivolity in the face of unemployment. Hope tried to convince me otherwise, and promised that we’d get another chance to travel someday, but those thieves stole all my enthusiasm for adventure on the open road. I felt like I had no choice but to skip the trip, crash with my sister in Brooklyn, and find gainful employment in the city.

So I keystroked my way to Columbia’s Career Education Services website, figuring that one of the advantages of graduating in January was that I’d get a head start on the seniors getting diplomas in May. I soon realized that a head start on nothing is not a head start at all. Psychology didn’t even justify its own job heading. Any career opportunities in my field were relegated to the minimum-wage smorgasbord category of “Other.”

This