August 16, 2011 by Heather
I would like to begin this post with something you don’t hear everyday:
I wet the bed last night.
It was a combination of the following: My UTI medicine numbs my parts-that-go-tinkle AND it makes me super sleepy AND I had guzzled a swimming pool’s worth of water before bed, which all added up to me waking up at 5am in a puddle.
You’re never too old to pee in your pantaloons. You heard it here first.
Now that I’ve got that out of the way, let’s move on.
Last week I responded to a job posting on Craigslist that actually sounded promising. I googled the phone number and made sure it was a legitimate company (American Income Life Insurance) before I sent them my cover letter and resume. The open position was titled “Customer Service Representative.” Seemed decent enough, so I sent my stuff.
Yesterday morning, right before I discovered what the burning sensation was between my legs, I got a call from the hiring manager at the company. I was so very excited and really nervous. That was all soon pushed to the back of my mind as I spent the entire afternoon talking to my ob-gyn in Arkansas and a pharmacist here trying to get my hands on some medicine.
After the medicine found its way to my lady bits, and after Andrew came straight home after work to make sure I was ok (he even skipped cycling class, precious), we went to Target to get me a professional-looking outfit. One skirt, one blouse, one pair of grown up heels, and $90 later, I was ready for my interview.
I spent some time last night watching job interview tips videos on about.com. We practiced what my answers would be to certain questions. I was prepared for whatever they might throw at me.
After cleaning up the 5am down-there issue, I went back to sleep and then woke up when Andrew left for work at 8. I took my time, drank a little coffee, and ate some toast even though I had a major nervous stomach. Washed my medicine down with a glass of cranberry juice. Read my bible, prayed for calmness and discernment. I took a shower, managed to cut my butt cheek while shaving my legs (I was bringing the razor behind my back to rinse off the shaving cream and I swung it around a little too low and a little too fast, ouch), and did my best grown up makeup (brown eyeshadow, no liner) and hair (down, bangs swooped to one side). I put on my brand new outfit and was ready to go.
Let’s switch to present tense, just for kicks.
I arrive ten minutes early, just like Alison Doyle on about.com said to. I easily find the office on the third floor of a brick building in a nice looking office park. I have two copies of my resume with me, and spit out my gum in the car. I take the elevator so I won’t be out of breath when I breeze through their lobby door.
When I get there, the girl at the front desk asks if I am here for an interview. Yes. She hands me a clipboard and asks me to sign in and fill out some information. There are 7-10 names ahead of mine, all there for interviews. As I sit down (legs crossed at the ankle, my best grown up way to sit), I glance around the room. There are two women across the small waiting area, each holding a resume. One of them has on khakis and tennis shoes.
Moments later, a girl walks out from the hallway followed by a lady who works there. The girl asks if there is anything else she needs to fill out and the lady says, “Nope, just be here at 10am on Thursday. Alright, who’s up next? Who’s been here the longest?”
The girl in tennis shoes is next. As I finish answering the questions on the clipboard (what is this, a doctor’s office?), a man wearing a striped polyester shirt walks in. He’s holding a folder and has slicked back hair. He tells the receptionist he is there for an 11:00 interview. Then the tennis shoe girl is ushered out by the hallway lady and is also told to be there at 10am on Thursday. I’m thinking, dang, this place is on a hiring spree.
I’m up next. There is no handshake, no introductions. I have no idea who this lady is. I follow her down the hallway to an office at the end. She motions to a chair, asks if I have a copy of my resume. I hand it to her. She doesn’t even look at it. She asks me three questions: 1) Do you have a current job? [no.] 2) What motivates you? [insert cheesy answer] 3) Do you know that this is a commission-based insurance sales position? [no….wait, what?]
She tells me to be there at 10am on Thursday for a one-hour information meeting. She says there will be a survey passed out at the end where we can all rate how interested we are in the job, says there is no pressure. She walks me to the door, and I ask if there is anything else I need to know or need to fill out. “Nope, just be here Thursday.” Still no handshake.
I ride the elevator down with a tan and hairy-armed salesman who works there. “So, ya gonna go for it?” He asks. I tell him maybe, yeah, and that I didn’t know it was commission-based. “Yeah, but if you work hard the money’s pretty decent. Aside from the three month training period where you don’t get paid anything.” Hmm, awesome.
It was very strange. I am not at all interested in working on commission only, and I am not interested in being part of a mass-hiring in some company that doesn’t even shake hands. And the biggest thing that bugs me about it is the fact that they weren’t exactly truthful in their job posting on Craigslist.
I was misled, and I feel silly. I know I shouldn’t, but I do. Plus now I have to take back my grown up outfit. No job = no keeping a $90 outfit. Except the shoes. I get to keep those, thanks to the really black asphalt in our parking lot.
I think the sheets are done drying. I had just washed them on Sunday, too.
Maybe while I’m at Target I should pick up some giant Pampers.