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longing << home >> Switcheroo

On the other hand…(originally posted, in slightly different form, on Twitter) :: bakerina :: 7

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The next time I become immobilized by the hugeness of the task ahead of us for the next 2 1/2 months, I will remember the job fair I was compelled to attend yesterday, and what a depressing, humiliating ordeal it was, and how thankful I am that that will not be my future after all.

May 8, 2008 at 11:43 AM ::

A few years ago my brother moved across the country taking nothing that wouldn’t fit in the back of a Honda sedan.

However, showing more common sense than I credited him with, he bought a plane ticket and shipped the aforementioned Honda.

I’m not helping, am I?

'mouse on 05/08/08 at 12:06 PM ::

That’s pretty neat. Not an option for us—it will be a freezing cold day in hell before I leave our bed behind—but still pretty neat.

bakerina on 05/08/08 at 12:09 PM ::

I got my worst job from attending a job fair. Radio Shack. Need I say more?

pam on 05/08/08 at 12:26 PM ::

Yes! YES. Pam, you nailed it. The jobs, and the employers, were just depressing. The only places where I thought I could work without taking the pipe were...the Queens Public Library (at a third of my old salary, no doubt) and Whole Foods. Those were the LEAST depressing options. And I had to queue up for over an hour for the privilege. Yeesh.

bakerina on 05/08/08 at 12:29 PM ::

Such things remind me everyday how incredibly lucky I am to be a grad student living right at the poverty line. It’s so much better than 95% of the ‘real’ jobs out there.

Part of that 5% includes the job of oil boy for the Hawaiian Tropic swimsuit ladies, which I’m willing to bet is also better than Radio Shack.

You can call me, 'Sir' on 05/08/08 at 12:48 PM ::

Of course, I’m pretty sure the Oil Boys are paid in Chuck E. Cheese coupons, rather than actual legal tender. But even then, it would still be better than Radio Shack. ;)

bakerina on 05/08/08 at 01:02 PM ::

Not only Radio Shack, but as a “manager trainee”. This, I learned, is a retail euphemism for “high threshold for pain”. They teach you the arcane paperwork system while forcing you to work odd hours checking in tiny packages of wires and fuses in a dark storeroom. The last one standing nearly gets the promotion, until the store closes - whups! - and it’s necessary to prove oneself all over again at a new store. One also must be able to sell, but only guys worked the sales floor; girls worked support, so I was handicapped before I began. The whole thing lasted a week. I quit in the middle of my shift. I have never known such happiness.

pam on 05/09/08 at 08:46 AM ::