At my latest temp job yesterday I wrote more than two hundred (200!) cheques. I would argue that I was one of very few men walking around that did such a thing. Jane, the other temp, wrote 225(!) but was disqualified as she is a lady.
Me and Jane were a team. People stared up twelve levels from street level through the glass windows at us diligently spelling out dollar and cent amounts and knew that we were the best. Collectively we could have bought probably 10,000 White Stripes albums with the cheques we wrote yesterday. We were ablaze (on fire).
The reinforced glass of the office was the only thing holding us back from shooting over the Sydney skyline, hovering over tiny cars and people, majestic and relaxed in swivel chairs, using the aerial view to plan our route home, all effortlessly listing the street names with verbatim. When it was time to come down we would call the recruitment lady as we didn't have the number of anyone in the office, and you need a building pass to use the lift.
I spent the rest of the afternoon impressing coworkers with my knowledge of licensed premises:
"Name any pub and I'll tell you it's opening hours"
"I don't drink. Please just keep writing cheques."
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Wednesday, June 06, 2007
Extract from the diary of a person seeking employment.
Q: "So it looks like you have done a variety of good and interesting things, but do you understand that the bread and butter of this job is administration?"
A: "From my experience doing admin stuff, I have really enjoyed it, and would love the opportunity to work within the arts at any level"
- Yes, but at this point I don't think I will find a job that involves sitting at Glebe Point drinking gin in teacups and writing verbal essays about Samatha Brett's latest column, so I thought I'd take what I could get y'know. Award wages for that are pretty crap also. I've got a lot of drinks to buy, and I really want to buy one of those Chopper BMXs like the one my friend bought his girlfriend last week. I saw a job on Seek.com.au for being Larry David, I hear that pays pretty well?
Q: "What are your salary expectations? We are a non-profit organisation, so we pay the award."
A: "Obviously I need to pay the rent and bills, but I realise that to working in the creative industries will mean wages are not as high."
- I've never been on a salary in my life, only hourly or weekly wages. It would be great if I could get as much as when I was on the dole, but working full-time cash in hand at a bar? That was so fucken sweet.
Q: "I see you live locally, how did you get here today?"
A: "I caught the bus"
- I walked because I couldn't afford $1.70 bus fare. I threw the last money in the tip jar at a cafe near my house... Gives you a bit of perspective really, I mean the importance of keeping up appearances. He's a nice guy though, he knows exactly how me and Stephen have our eggs and refers to us affectionately as "boys", not in a patronising way either, it would sound funny if he called us "men" though, wouldn't it? (...) Speaking of living, it's getting a little complicated. Our current housing situation may be getting shaky, as several of our household may be moving out, with another possibly leaving town for a few months. I'm sorry to bring this up in an interview, but I've spent a fair bit of time considering different options of what I, or we, will do about it. Do you know anything about breaking leases, and how getting back your bond in those circumstances works? The major issue will be furniture, if the other two move out all we'll be left with is a rear projection TV, a coffee table, a set of knives and an ashtray... I keep getting weird thoughts like 'how will I cope without somewhere to hang my coat?' And we don't even have a coat stand now! It's not really a problem, winter is short in Sydney, winter coats are mainly invented to make us feel like we are part of the EU...
That came out wrong. What I meant to say, is that winter coats, like high heels and fancy corkscrews, are mainly used because they have always been used, it's habitual. I know, I know, I'm happy to sit down and talk about the cultural cringe for hours. Did you know my grandmother's lawn bowls club still sing God Save The Queen?
Q: "Thanks so much for coming in, James. We have had quite a good response for this role, so I hope you understand if we take a few weeks to get back to you?"
A: "Of course, thanks for having me in"
- Of course, thanks for having me in.
---
A: "From my experience doing admin stuff, I have really enjoyed it, and would love the opportunity to work within the arts at any level"
- Yes, but at this point I don't think I will find a job that involves sitting at Glebe Point drinking gin in teacups and writing verbal essays about Samatha Brett's latest column, so I thought I'd take what I could get y'know. Award wages for that are pretty crap also. I've got a lot of drinks to buy, and I really want to buy one of those Chopper BMXs like the one my friend bought his girlfriend last week. I saw a job on Seek.com.au for being Larry David, I hear that pays pretty well?
Q: "What are your salary expectations? We are a non-profit organisation, so we pay the award."
A: "Obviously I need to pay the rent and bills, but I realise that to working in the creative industries will mean wages are not as high."
- I've never been on a salary in my life, only hourly or weekly wages. It would be great if I could get as much as when I was on the dole, but working full-time cash in hand at a bar? That was so fucken sweet.
Q: "I see you live locally, how did you get here today?"
A: "I caught the bus"
- I walked because I couldn't afford $1.70 bus fare. I threw the last money in the tip jar at a cafe near my house... Gives you a bit of perspective really, I mean the importance of keeping up appearances. He's a nice guy though, he knows exactly how me and Stephen have our eggs and refers to us affectionately as "boys", not in a patronising way either, it would sound funny if he called us "men" though, wouldn't it? (...) Speaking of living, it's getting a little complicated. Our current housing situation may be getting shaky, as several of our household may be moving out, with another possibly leaving town for a few months. I'm sorry to bring this up in an interview, but I've spent a fair bit of time considering different options of what I, or we, will do about it. Do you know anything about breaking leases, and how getting back your bond in those circumstances works? The major issue will be furniture, if the other two move out all we'll be left with is a rear projection TV, a coffee table, a set of knives and an ashtray... I keep getting weird thoughts like 'how will I cope without somewhere to hang my coat?' And we don't even have a coat stand now! It's not really a problem, winter is short in Sydney, winter coats are mainly invented to make us feel like we are part of the EU...
That came out wrong. What I meant to say, is that winter coats, like high heels and fancy corkscrews, are mainly used because they have always been used, it's habitual. I know, I know, I'm happy to sit down and talk about the cultural cringe for hours. Did you know my grandmother's lawn bowls club still sing God Save The Queen?
Q: "Thanks so much for coming in, James. We have had quite a good response for this role, so I hope you understand if we take a few weeks to get back to you?"
A: "Of course, thanks for having me in"
- Of course, thanks for having me in.
---
Andrew G has a blog too.
It was not until yesterday that I started reading Dave Eggers' seminal novel, Heartbreaking Work Of Staggering Genius. It was not until yesterday that I(, in fact,) had been striving my entire life to writing exactly the same as Eggers, just never realised it. Much like when I first read Douglas Adams, it was somewhat of an epiphany. People probably know. People know.
In stark contrast, yesterday was also the first time I have ever been fired from a job. After pouring my heart and soul into scanning 'before' and 'after' photos of 'Slimmer Of The Year' semi-finalists at Weight Watchers HQ, I was informed (on my way to work no less) that they no would no longer require my (borrowed) sensible black shoes. According to Hays Recruitment's Katherine, I had apparently clipped some photos together with a paperclip, and now noone knows where they are supposed to go. I considered offering that once you'd seen one glamour shot of a newly-skinny women with a "skin-apron", you've probably seen them all. I didn't though, I'm pretty intimidated by Weight Watchers personell - (this is lifted directly from a text message I sent this afternoon, sorry to the recipient for being unoriginal/self-plagiarism) white-pants wearing blonde women, all "I'm going to be naughty and dip a strawberry in white-choccy!" ... All watching Rove and commenting on his bravery... All "Pete Helliar is just the best!"
---
LAST FRIDAY:
"If you drink a schooner of mushroom sauce, I'll play a game of rugby"
"Nah, it's not worth it."
"How about an over-the-pants handjob?"
SATURDAY:
Hungover Brad: "These beers just aren't waking me up... I'm going to have to bomb my way out of this mess."
TUESDAY:
W1 on 431 bus: "Can you believe that anyone would sack my baby? Honestly!"
W2: "I know! Although he might have had trouble getting along with the other people."
W1: "Especially the time he got locked in the freezer for the night... Which reminds me, I need to get a new freezer. I'm going to buy a new one as soon as my share money arrives from America, that's what I'll do."
... So many unanswered questions, so little employment.
In stark contrast, yesterday was also the first time I have ever been fired from a job. After pouring my heart and soul into scanning 'before' and 'after' photos of 'Slimmer Of The Year' semi-finalists at Weight Watchers HQ, I was informed (on my way to work no less) that they no would no longer require my (borrowed) sensible black shoes. According to Hays Recruitment's Katherine, I had apparently clipped some photos together with a paperclip, and now noone knows where they are supposed to go. I considered offering that once you'd seen one glamour shot of a newly-skinny women with a "skin-apron", you've probably seen them all. I didn't though, I'm pretty intimidated by Weight Watchers personell - (this is lifted directly from a text message I sent this afternoon, sorry to the recipient for being unoriginal/self-plagiarism) white-pants wearing blonde women, all "I'm going to be naughty and dip a strawberry in white-choccy!" ... All watching Rove and commenting on his bravery... All "Pete Helliar is just the best!"
---
LAST FRIDAY:
"If you drink a schooner of mushroom sauce, I'll play a game of rugby"
"Nah, it's not worth it."
"How about an over-the-pants handjob?"
SATURDAY:
Hungover Brad: "These beers just aren't waking me up... I'm going to have to bomb my way out of this mess."
TUESDAY:
W1 on 431 bus: "Can you believe that anyone would sack my baby? Honestly!"
W2: "I know! Although he might have had trouble getting along with the other people."
W1: "Especially the time he got locked in the freezer for the night... Which reminds me, I need to get a new freezer. I'm going to buy a new one as soon as my share money arrives from America, that's what I'll do."
... So many unanswered questions, so little employment.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
