**courtesy of CoQ10z**
Lately, I’ve been thinking about my experiences with past jobs. One experience that comes to mind is a telemarketing job I worked one summer during my high school years. It lasted one day and will forever go down in my history as the one of the worst jobs ever.
For whatever reason, I could never get a job at a fast food restaurant. No matter how many applications I submitted, fast food didn’t want me.
My high school bud told me that a telemarketing company behind our neighborhood was always looking for employees. Back then, telemarketing jobs were known to pay a little more than minimum wage. This was around the early 90s. I applied and was offered the job on the spot. “Mom! Dad! I got a job!!!!”, I gushed to them as soon as I got home.
Ready to make some money, I started my first 5-hour shift the next day. My job duties were to call random phone numbers asking residents questions about various topics of the time.
Before my shift began, the newly hired had an hour of new hire training. Our supervisor was a tall, gangly, dour man that looked to be in his mid-50s. I’ll call him *Bill because he looked like a Bill. Before the training started, he made us aware that he was suffering from a hangover. We were off to a good start – NOT.
Once the session ended, we were given a cubicle, a computer and a script. The routine of repeated calls began. If you got a dial tone, you had to start with the next number.
After calling 10 numbers in a row, I took a breather. The surveys were so long that I was often surprised how many people would stay on the line. Usually, it was the elderly that liked to talk.
After about a minute of being off the phone, *Bill comes into the room and tells me that I need to get back on the phone. “Okay, I wasn’t off long, I just needed a minute”, I replied.
Back on the phone I made more calls and took another breather after about six calls. Here comes Bill back in the room with a sour look. “You need to get back on the phone, ” he tells me.
I started to get looks from some of my co-workers. Their expressions told me that Bill was seriously trippin’ on his supervisor power. So back to the phone again with the same wash and repeat as before. Guess who came back into the room? My good friend Bill, who then tells me in a low voice, “I don’t want to have to tell you again – you need to get back on the phone,”. He walks out of the room and my co-worker says to me, “he is really not liking you, “. No shit Sherlock.
At some moment in your life, you will come across this type of micromanaging supervisor. To keep my attitude in check, I began to imagine that Bill never lived up to his true potential. His life probably consisted of late night drinking sessions with Jack Daniels and heavy hangovers every morning. Feeling miserable about himself, his joy probably came from his abuse of power at a telemarketing job.
It was at that moment that I knew telemarketing was not for me. I had three more hours left to put up with more calls and Bill. As Black Sheep would say, “you can get with this or you can get with that – the choice is yours,”.
I didn’t want to add more pressure to Bill’s hangover. When our 15-minute break came around, I grabbed my shit and walked home. At least I made $15 and Bill no longer had to put up with my bullshit. It was a win-win situation.