Since I've fallen on difficult financial times (read: no job and the government teat has run dry as of last week), today, I took my first, faultering step of desperation.
I enlisted at a temp agency.
It's an entertainment industry-based agency, so they send you to the studios for the most part, but I have to say, it's been many-a-year since I subjected myself to such...sadness.
I arrived and was quickly greeted with 15 pages of nonsense to fill out, plus, I was subjected to a ridiculously retarded test about "Safety In The Workplace" (including questions like: "You are asked to pick up your boss' dry cleaning - Do you A. Say no, asshole, B. Cockpunch your boss, or C. Phone the agency as it is not part of your job description?", and finally met with an agent.
This woman, let's call her "I have a nervous tick of sniffing back every 5 seconds" - or "Anna" for short - had me sit beside her desk while she completed other paperwork, checked email, and gossiped with the other rotund, overly madeup, whining, bitching workers for 10 minutes as I sat, staring into space, biding my time, reminding myself that I need a job NOW, and that stabbing her in the eyeball with one of the 3 troll dolls on her monitor is mildly illegal.
Once done with her "tasks", she perused my resume, mumbled a couple of questions about what I'd like to do, and then sent me to the test computers, wherein a piece of testing software runs one through a variety of tasks on computer programs that you'll NEVER, EVER NEED to use ("Macros"? Ever tampered with that on your Microsoft Word software? Didn't think so).
I scored 100% on Word and Powerpoint, 80% on Outlook Express, and 60% on Excel (thank god. That reflects the lack of spreadsheets in my past). Suddenly, when I return with these results, Anna is all over me; sucking my dick, excited to have me with the company, etc. She must've seen dollar signs in my test scores, or noticed the 16" bulge in my pants as I walked back to her, as she handed me a "Welcome" packet and told me to call them every morning between 8 and 9 am.
I can't wait to see where this all leads.
I enlisted at a temp agency.
It's an entertainment industry-based agency, so they send you to the studios for the most part, but I have to say, it's been many-a-year since I subjected myself to such...sadness.
I arrived and was quickly greeted with 15 pages of nonsense to fill out, plus, I was subjected to a ridiculously retarded test about "Safety In The Workplace" (including questions like: "You are asked to pick up your boss' dry cleaning - Do you A. Say no, asshole, B. Cockpunch your boss, or C. Phone the agency as it is not part of your job description?", and finally met with an agent.
This woman, let's call her "I have a nervous tick of sniffing back every 5 seconds" - or "Anna" for short - had me sit beside her desk while she completed other paperwork, checked email, and gossiped with the other rotund, overly madeup, whining, bitching workers for 10 minutes as I sat, staring into space, biding my time, reminding myself that I need a job NOW, and that stabbing her in the eyeball with one of the 3 troll dolls on her monitor is mildly illegal.
Once done with her "tasks", she perused my resume, mumbled a couple of questions about what I'd like to do, and then sent me to the test computers, wherein a piece of testing software runs one through a variety of tasks on computer programs that you'll NEVER, EVER NEED to use ("Macros"? Ever tampered with that on your Microsoft Word software? Didn't think so).
I scored 100% on Word and Powerpoint, 80% on Outlook Express, and 60% on Excel (thank god. That reflects the lack of spreadsheets in my past). Suddenly, when I return with these results, Anna is all over me; sucking my dick, excited to have me with the company, etc. She must've seen dollar signs in my test scores, or noticed the 16" bulge in my pants as I walked back to her, as she handed me a "Welcome" packet and told me to call them every morning between 8 and 9 am.
I can't wait to see where this all leads.

3 Comments:
At 10:06 PM,
Anonymous said…
be careful. a lot of those places mandate that you wear nylons...
At 12:00 AM,
Anonymous said…
where is your resume? my inbox remains empty and full of sadness.
At 1:37 PM,
Anonymous said…
AHHHH! Fucking dry teet.
To temp is to truely know sorrow. And I don't mean the farting dog from Hotel New Hampshire (or do I?).
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