Instead of starting my new job on Tuesday as planned, the snow had other ideas and so I remained cabin-bound until today. I woke up to that sickening “first day of school” full-body anxiety, but instead of hitting snooze and dwelling, I jumped up and pretended I was instead getting ready for roller skating or a Chiodos show (pre-Craig Owens departure) or just a good old fashioned hoedown.
The drive wasn’t as bad as I anticipated, plus it gave me some time to listen to some new music I recently acquired and that was good. There’s nothing like a screamo/post-hardcore cover of Lady Gaga’s “Poker Face” to make me want to conquer a boardroom.
I was a few minutes early and the man who would become my supervisor wasn’t there yet so I was stowed in the small waiting area, where I immediately realized that I was way overdressed after noting that most of the women who bustled past wore mom-jeans and ugly shoes. A few more seconds of spying had me noting the bouncing parade of antique knit sweaters. One of the sweaters was a gaudy purple hue interwoven with some sort of obnoxious silver thread. I’m pretty sure my Mrs. B., my kindergarten teacher, sported that same sweater in 1985.
I was inspired to clandestinely tweet: “Hopefully I get the memo the next time it’s 80s Day at my new place of work.”
And then the most Tina-ish woman there found me, like they all do. She was brash and tall and, around 20+ years of cigarette drags, she croaked, “Erin? Come on, I’m going to give you a tour.” I looked down as I trailed behind her and noticed that she was wearing boots similar to the ones my mom wore. IN THE EIGHTIES.
When the fuck was I?!
The only thing I remember being shown on the impromptu tour was a large, clear glass bowl that sat atop a filing cabinet in the middle of the office space. And you know what was in that glass bowl? CANDY. I couldn’t wait to start stealing it!
“You’re welcome to help yourself to that candy whenever you want, as well as all the pop in the fridge….” Alternate Tina continued to point out the free perks and I felt shocked. I wouldn’t have to PILFER? I could just…have? Like, while people were watching, I could just…take?
This might take some getting used to. I’m not sure I know how to fetch candy in an office without utilizing my slinky ninja-gait.
Alternate Tina deposited me in my makeshift office, which is just a small conference room set up with a computer. Moments later, the HR woman who interviewed me last week stopped in with some papers to sign and told me that everyone was allowed to wear jeans this week as a perk for coming in due to this shitty weather. But she didn’t say anything about the 1980’s Golden Girls sweaters. I had to sign a paper swearing that I wouldn’t make unwanted sexual advances on any of my co-workers, which was painful, like signing away my first born. (Though there are times when that feels like a wonderful treat.)
Next, I got to meet my supervisor, who is a very pleasant man who likes to overdose on the word “literally” and swears without apologizing. We had a small training session with another woman who actually works there but will be doing of this fantastic data entry along with me, and then I was left to do the practice work myself.
It’s just transferring information from shipping invoices onto an Excel spreadsheet. (I just typed in Spreadshirt at first, which shows you what little time I spend in offices these days.) I know it sounds awful, but as far as careers go, I go out of my way to find low-key data entry/billing jobs. I don’t want stress. I want to go to work, plug and chug quietly, and then come home and have the mental energy left to do the things I like to do. Is that selfish? Maybe.
There were no real invoices for me to work on after that, so I got to leave by 1pm. And that’s the other beautiful thing about this job: there are days when I will only have to stay until noon. My supervisor, after explaining this to me, offered, “If you’d prefer to be here for a full day everyday, I could try to look for other things for you to do…” but I very zealously interrupted, “No! No, that’s OK. I was told during the interview about that, and I’m completely OK with it.” And I am, too. I don’t want a full time job! I don’t want a job AT ALL to be honest but HENRY made me get one.
And you better believe that from the moment I got home today until, well, currently, I haven’t let him forget about that.
“Make me lunch!” I yelled as I stormed through the door.
He stood there gaping at me.
“Go make me lunch! I had a long day…because of YOU!” I spat.
And he started laughing. As if my working is a JOKE to him, something that he derives pleasure from, like watching Kate Gosselin and her douche-curtains suffer in public.
And you know what else? On my way home, I got an email from my work-at-home HR broad informing me that there was work out if I was interested. So I had to come home and WORK some more instead of watching MTV; oh pity me, Internet!
I’m going to go and schedule a day at the spa now.
Tomorrow, I have to try and learn how to use the coffee maker. Fuck. At least I get to wear jeans and my best sweater from 5th grade.
[I hope you know that this is a joke and that I am grateful to be working. The End.]
Looking forward to your workplace stories, Erin. What is wrong with that Henry dude, anyway, making you work? Tsk.
Thanks, Blondi! Hopefully there will be something to glean from this, other than a necessary paycheck.
Henry sucks. I keep saying he should just get a second job, and then he reminds me he already tried that last year and I almost died without him.
Glad you got in there finally after all the snow. I hope this place does give you a lot of good stories to tell.
I’m glad it finally worked out for you! Also, I’m glad you didn’t have to take a drug test. ;)
HA! I hope that NEVER happens again. Jesus.
But…but…is there FAYGO to be taken? Not just any old pop?