workingfortheman.com

For what seems like forever, I've been temping at a building management company, answering phones, handling the mail, data entry - the usual crap. At the same time, I've been looking for a job in publishing, sending out resumes, going to interviews, writing thank you notes - the usual crap. So I've essentially combined two of the worst aspects of working: temporary work and a job search. It has been a pretty rough couple of months.

The first job interview I had seemed to go really well. It was for a public relations assistant job at a business book publisher. I'm not into business books, and I was way over-qualified for the position, and of course the pay sucked, but I willing to take anything related to the publishing industry, despite these negatives. The interview lasted over two hours. There was a lot of smiling and nodding and comments like, "That's really impressive," from the two women interviewing me. I figured a second interview was definitely going to happen.

Of course, a week went by and I didn't hear anything. Another week, and still nothing. By the third week, I realized that a second interview was not going to happen, and resigned myself to getting a rejection letter in the mail. A couple of weeks went by and no letter arrived.

Now, look, I spent two hours of my time doing an interview for this job. I spent $5 on the train to get to their office. I got all dressed up and utilized one of my professionally ironed shirts. Worst of all, I didn't even get a second interview for a job I could have done when I was 17. It was bullshit work. The least these fuckers could have done was send me a rejection letter. Instead, I had to call one of the women who interviewed me and ask the status of the position.

"Oh, I've been meaning to send you a letter, but I've been soooo busy. You know how it gets," she said with that fake PR compassion. "The position has been filled by someone who was better suited for the job. But we realllllly appreciate you taking the time to interview for the position."

I should have been thankful that I even got an interview, considering what happened with my next possible opportunity in the publishing world.

I was working away at my temp job when I decided to check my messages. I do this about 20 times a day, for no reason other than a phone is on my desk and I feel the urge to pick it up as often as I can and waste as much time as possible.

So on this particular day and on maybe the 11th message check, I got a message from the head of the marketing department of a pretty major book publisher about setting up an interview. I called her back immediately. Now, on the message, this woman sounded very excited about the interview. This gave me a false sense of welcome. When she answered the phone she was completely different.

"Meg Swanson." She sounded very unlike a public relations person, more like an accountant at tax time.

"Hi, yes, this is Spencer Fontanadal, returning your call about setting up an interview for the marketing position."

"Next week on Wednesday, 10 a.m.," she said impatiently.

I repeated the scheduled date and time, just to be sure I had heard her correctly. I sounded all nervous, and felt like a little boy repeating a punishment. I could just see her sighing in disgust.

"Right. See you then," she said, and hung up.

But on the day before the interview, on my 18th or so message check towards the end of the day, I heard this message from Meg: "I'm going to have to cancel the interview. I'm really busy and I have a couple of important meetings tomorrow. Call me back if you want to reschedule."

Obviously Meg hasn't been on a job search in a while. Of course I wanted to reschedule. I need a fucking job.

So I call her back immediately and leave an enthusiastic message about how I want to set up another time for an interview.

"Hi, this is Spencer. Thanks for the call about having to cancel the interview. No problem at all. I'd like to reschedule the interview, so please call me back and let me know when you have some open spaces on your schedule. Thanks again for the call, and I look forward to meeting you."

Sadly, I never got a call back from Meg. I even left a couple more messages, each time kissing more and more ass, but still, Meg couldn't take the 30 seconds to call me and leave a message telling me the position had been filled. I let it all go by promising to get Meg back some day.

But as that job lead ran dry, I got a call from someone at the temp agency telling me about a new assignment. They knew my current assignment was about to end, and they already had a possibility lined up.

It was for damn good money. Basically, I was going to file all day, but this wasn't ordinary alphabetical or numerical filing. This was specialized filing, which would involve actually reading the papers which needed to be filed, and organizing the extremely complicated documents in some complicated way. The temp agency decided that I was qualified for this very important, difficult task.

There was one catch: I'd have to interview for the assignment. That's right, interview for the temp job.

Ridiculous, to be sure, but the money was more than right. So I agreed to the interview. What the hell, I figured.

At the interview, I didn't do much talking. Amy, the accountant who would be "leading the team," spelled out the responsibilities of the job. She kept repeating one line throughout the explanation: "It's a lot of hard work, but it's also a lot of fun."

Every time she said the word "fun," I cringed. I wanted to say: "Look lady, I'll do the work, and I'll do a good job, but let's get one thing very clear: I'm not going to be having any fun. And it's not just me. Whoever you hire - that person isn't going to be having any fun. Even if you order pizza and let us listen to the radio, or bring in a stereo and we sing along with the soundtrack from Grease, it's not going to be fun. This is filing. Mind-numbing, deadly boring work that makes one's whole being pray for 5 o'clock. Out of respect for me, and everyone else who has to file papers to pay rent and buy food, do not say the word 'fun' again."

But of course I didn't say that. I nodded enthusiastically and made it seem like even this interview was fun. I was dripping with positivity.

She asked if I had any questions, so I asked a few about the project, just to humor her. What the hell did I care? This was about money. Finally, I asked her when she would be making a decision about who would be joining the team. I threw that part in about "joining the team" just to let her know I had been listening. All that "team" talk in the workplace is a bunch of bullshit. It does nothing but sicken me.

She then told me that it looked real good for me, that she didn't see any reason why I wouldn't be chosen. "I just have to check with my supervisor," she assured me. What a team player. So I walked out thinking that I had the job. I started to map out how I was going to spend the money I would be making.

But, as a matter of course, it seems, I did not get the job. And not only did I not get the job, but it took Amy over two weeks to tell the temp agency that I had not been chosen for the specialized filing position.

When the call finally came, I was actually assuming that I was simply going to be told when I would be starting. Just the day before I had inquired about the status of the situation, and a person at the temp agency had said that it was 99% for sure that I would be getting the job. Imagine my surprise when the woman from the temp agency called and said, "I'm sorry, but the job didn't work out. They decided to go with someone else."

"You're kidding," I said. I was in shock.

Of course, the always cheerful temp agency employee wasn't phased at all.

"No, I'm sorry. But I do have this other possibility..."

But I wasn't listening anymore. I was too annoyed, simmering in my own boiler room hot frustration.

Back to the archives.

Return to the main page.