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Welcome
back to the crapper.
Speaking of crap. I have a new job.
Doing what, you may ask?
Doing what I do best. Bullshitting.
I am, once again, lower than a
cockroach. Mass murderers now get more respect and sympathy than I do.
Priests curse me, and nuns spit on me.
I am a tele-marketer. Calling the
masses, spending hours a day on the phone, convincing people that, yes, they
need what I have, even if I don't understand what it is myself.
This is absolutely the best and worst
job at the same time. Example?
Well, I know of virtually no other
job where you can sit on your ass for hours a day and get paid as much,
except for being a lawyer or congressman. I mean, I can make up to $35,000 a
year, just for doing what I do best. Bullshitting.
Of course, that's the upside. And a
short one it is, too, when you get to the down sides.
There is no such thing as job
stability at a tele-marketing company. You produce, or you get demoted, and
eventually, fired. Of course, you always, always have a dry spell. Usually
that also happens to coincide with the last break on your resume. Yeah,
loyalty is overrated anyway.
Then of course, there are the
customers. People bitch about being clerks. Clerks are incredibly lucky.
They have dry spells. There are moments when esoteric conversations can
actually be had. Unlike tele-marketing.
Tele-marketing jobs use predictive
dialers, calling and dialing numbers in their database relentlessly with a
computer dialer. You do nothing but wait. Just sit there, and wait. So you
sit there with a headset on for about three hours solid, waiting for the
beep. Imagine a customer hearing this conversation. "Broke his neck trying
to suck his own dick... Hello, Mrs. Johnson?"
It makes it really hard to have any
real conversations on the job. For some reason, drug use seems to be rampant
in commission based jobs as well. I had one particular job, where my sales
were down. So they sent me to a retraining course, otherwise affectionately
known as boot camp. The gentleman their, was such an obvious coke addict. He
would walk in the room, hands a clappin' as happy as a pig in shit just to
be there. By the end of the class, he would barely be conscious. But when
the break was over, there he would be, talking that great talk about how
great it was to be calling, smiling and dialing.
Did I mention he always seemed to
have a problem with his sinuses, always sniffing? Oh, did I also mention a
month after he fired me, he was fired for drug use, after being caught in
the bathroom, by the CEO?
But I digress. I was bitching about
the job itself. I hate calling people. It doesn't matter when I call, I
always wake someone up. Spend a great deal of time getting hung up on, which
is my supervisors fault as he won't allow me to end a call gracefully, but
expects me to rebutt people until they give in or hang up. I have allot of
personal stories to tell, but truth be told, I am saving them up for my next
screenplay.
Well, gotta go, need to get my rest,
as I start whoring myself again tomorrow, in my relentlessly banal attempt
to be a filmmaker. Until then, enjoy your time on the crapper. |
