Posted on Thursday 20 January 2005
“Do you have advanced Excel skills?” she asked.
“Sure.” I replied.
I learned some time ago to simply lie when the temp agency asks if I have a “skill.” Half the time, the “skill” has absolutely nothing to do with the position. The rest of the time, the “skill” in question can be aquired through a 10 minute perusal of the programs help file.
“Pay rate is $17 an hour.” she later tells me.
“Great.” I reply, lying again. This time I’m only kind of lying. While it’s true I made more then this fetching espresso for assholes 10 years ago, my last temp job was at the non-living wage of $13 an hour. So maybe great was the wrong descriptive, but it was certainly better.
I arrived sporting my monkey suit at 9:15 the next morning and I found out my assignment for the next 3 days.
I would watch a light.
It was explained to me that if a call came in, when the rest of the department was already on the phone, a light would come on at my phone. When the digital screen next to the light informed me that the light had been on for 90 seconds, I would take the call, saying in one fast breath:
“Davis* adviser sales desk all representatives are on the line would you like to continue to hold or leave a message?”
I would then perform their chosen request.
This would be my only responsibility for the next 3 days.
Three hours later I discovered the job was harder then it appeared. After 10 minutes of the light now coming on, I began web surfing, checking the light every minute or so. After an hour of the light not coming on, this interval increased to 5 minutes. Three hours later, completely oblivious to the light as I attempted to complete the expert level of Minesweeper**, I heard a voice behind me.
“Michael?”
It was my temporary boss, who only three hours ago had explained to me “the light.”
My head darted to the phone. The light had been on for 3 minutes.
“I just wanted to make sure you understood what you were doing and watch you and make sure you didn’t have any problems.”
When the call was over, she accepted my profuse apologies gracefully. A deceptively simply job had bested me.
* - Fake name
** - I’ve become a near obsessive compulsive about having the best score in Minesweeper on every computer that I sit down at for longer then 5 minutes. The fact that this can be erased by a simply click of the “Reset Scores” button does nothing to dampen this strange need I feel to piss my initials on every computer that passes through my life. Not really my initials, as when at “work” I use the name “The Temp.”
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