It shouldn’t have been this easy. I just should have known.
Finding a job is generally a difficult thing for me. You see, I have a set of
very specific skills…. I had been out of work for a few months at this point,
unemployment benefits thankfully keeping me out of a cardboard box or living in
a Walmart.
 |
| "Maybe I just need to keep a better eye on my family." |
One of my interests is health and fitness. So I had been pursuing
jobs in that area. I came across a job for a beverage company; for the sake of
this blog, let’s just call it WidgetAde (WA). WA was a rather popular drink,
but had been waning for a few years now. I did my due diligence, and
discovered, in fact, it wasn’t really healthy. It was rather sugary
 |
| Sugar is a vitamin, right? |
To the best of my recollection, this is how events unfolded.
I believe is was a Monday when I sent my resume to them. The following day I
already got a reply and a quick phone call. I passed that test, and had a call
the next day with the next higher up. I love phone interviews. I really think
that’s the best way to go. My dress code for most phoners is pajama pants,
flips, and if I feel inspired, a ratty concert T. I am sure the alert reader
will notice nothing about underwear.
Phoners are great. I pace around the K Theory office like a
panther pacing in its’ cage. I am very animated. My hands move. I walk around.
I fist pump when I think I nailed a question. I take quick, small swigs of
water so I have a clear voice. Thank God, we don’t do this shit on Skype. Or
even real life. I am pretty sure I wouldn’t have nailed the job if I showed up
in matching Simpson pajama pants and slippers. Unshaven, unshowered, perhaps a
bit of flop sweat if I was nervous. “So,
Kev, tell me a little bit about yourself?” I immediately pop up from my chair
and wander around like Jeff Goldblum. “Well, I am an Aries that likes long
walks on the beach…” (Scratches balls.)
 |
| "Sooo....am I hired? I will need to buy more shirts." |
Second call lead to third call. I was doing my homework,
studying up on WA and seeing how they were handling some poor press and the
haters every product has on their FB page. A few times I asked questions and
the answer was, “Ask the next guy that.” Lotta cooks in this kitchen.
Fourth call lead to the big mahoff, the chief, the big
cheese. Since I’m me, and this was another phoner, I aced it. I had concerns
about this gig. I would be an independent contractor-or 1099 as it’s called
after the tax form that takes away most of my damn money. Zero benefits, but I got
a branded company van. I was not in love with the brand, as it was clearly not
as healthy as it touted itself. I actually really struggled with that part a
lot. Outside of mixing, I believe soda is the devil, and this stuff isn’t much different.
That’s probably why I use so little of it in my whiskey and rum. I felt a tinge
of guilt that I could be peddling this stuff to people who aren’t truly getting
what they think they are getting. I could at least console myself I that, if
asked, I could recommend a sister water product that was just, well, water.
 |
| I am many things right now. And calm is not one of them. |
I believe it was the following Monday I was offered the job.
I signed the papers. There was never a face to face. No one ever laid eyes on
me, outside my Linked in profile pic, which was shot at a distance. I actually
had a pro head shot taken, but realized that was not in my best interest, so
went with the far away shot. PhotoShop can't fix this mess. There was never a blood or urine test. Or sperm,
if the nurse was sexy and friendly enough.
I was getting a company car to
drive. Never a test.
I should have known. I just should have known. Too easy, too
quick.
The only thing more ridiculous was the way I lost it…
(Part 1 of three. Part 2 coming soon.)
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