Luckystott

2005-01-20 - 3:32 p.m.

Okay.

Memo to Corporate Bankers in Manhattan:

Please refrain from general stupidity.

Love,
Erin

---------------------------

Sorry for the late posting, folks. I have been in TEMP HELL this week. I liked my Tuesday job, no probs there. But I was very busy because of the bank holiday Monday (MLK day). "That's ok -- I'll write Wednesday."

Okay, except...no. I had the BE-ALL END-ALL ooky schmuck clerical job Wednesday. Within two minutes of meeting my "bosses", I hated them and they hated me. It was...a very bad day.

I was "on call" with my agency that morning. At 9:20am, I received a call from a jr. agent. She wanted to place me on a basic admin job at Big Bank for Wed/Thurs. "I know it's only $15/hr...but it's really easy. Just filing and stuff."

Well. Some work is better than no work. And I don't mind Big Bank. In fact, I have worked for some serious he there (at almost double the hourly wage....but whatEV.) So I accepted the job.

When I get there, I meet my "Sorta Boss" who is, I think, about five years younger than me. She lauches right into "Okay, like, we'll start you off easy. Come with me." BEFORE I COULD EVEN SET DOWN MY BRIEFCASE. And I stopped her because -- Are you nuts? Don't you want to give me FIVE MINUTES to hang up my coat? Use the restroom? Check in with my agency and let them know that I made it here in one piece?

Clearly, This young chick didn't know how to receive guests at the office. So I asked if I may be directed to my work station and have five minutes to get settled.

She looks at me puzzled and replies, "Well, like, I guess you can put you stuff over there. But you don't have a cubicle. I mean, you'll be, like, super busy all day."

Super! I have no "home" for the next two days. This is very frustrating for me. I don't abuse the "personal calls at work" issue, but I do like to have a land line so Freddie can reach me if he needs to. My cell isn't reliable inside the bowels of these NY skyscrapers. Also? No cubicle means no computer -- And those of you reading this right now? I know most of you would DIE without a computer at work, am I right? (Shoot -- when do you think I find the time to read all your brilliant work? I am your captive audience when chained to my seat at work. I'm just sayin'!)

Back to my crappy day: "Sorta Boss" directs me to the file room and gives me instructions (although not really). Each piece of paper I had to file? Yeah. I had to look in three different places because "The redweld might be here...here...or, um, here. But if you can't find it, just put it aside because it might be at my desk or in the cabinets near my desk. Hee!"

Right then and there I called my agency via an abandoned conference room. Unfortunately, my senior agent was away from her desk. So I talked to jr. agent and pulled a "DON'T YOU KNOW WHO I AM??" diva fit.

But not really.

Just sort of reminded her that, "Hello? I am Executive Admin II. I don't get out of bed for less than $20/hr -- I am to spend the day FILING? The ENTIRE day? This job sucks, FYI. Good thing I didn't wear A SUIT like I normally do when I work at Big Bank because - again - I'm FILING? And I put a question mark on that because I am not even sure that's what we should call it...based on the crappy filing *system* I am supposed to work with!"

Senior agent calls me right back and apologizes for the unfortunate position. I agree to finish the job because a job is a job -- just please don't book me with this department again.

It took me all morning to chip away at "filing" a three inch high stack and -- no surprise -- after looking in all three places in the file cabinets, 70% of my pile was still homeless.

I took a lunch break and came back -- only this time, I reported to my "Bigger Boss", another younger girl. I explained to her that the filing "system" is a little messed up in that File Room. I was only able to find about 30% of the files.

"Oh, well, I have some of the files here at my desk -- but can you take them over there to work?"

So I spent the next hour moving about 50 thick files from her desk over to another desk about 20 feet away.

I was able to file some papers out of that stack. But still.

At this point, I went back to "Sorta Boss" and explained that I was still trying to file about half of their work.

"Well, try these files here."

She indicates two files cabinets around the corner from her desk.

Okay? And here's where I

LOSE.

MY.

SH*T.

I open the file cabinet? And I find HUNDREDS of manila folders haphazardly thrown in SIDEWAYS and BACK-ASS-WARDS. Like, not alphabetized. Not even VERTICALLY hanging!

I mean, seriously, girls. You don't live at the Delta Nu house anymore. Organizing yourself takes a little more effort than buying a Caboodle at Walgreens.

So, at 3:30pm, I dive into organizing the files so that I can, in fact, FILE.

I got a call from my Sr. agent at about 4:45pm. She booked me on another job somewhere else for Thursday. I was praising her so hard core, you don't even know.

"THANK YOU THANK YOU. I SO HATED TODAY."

She laughed and said, "Yes, well, they -- like -- decided they weren't prepared enough to have a temp come in and help out yet."

Oh my GOD.

When I got home, Freddie was being sweet and inquisitive.

"How was work?"

I - with memories of the day still fresh -- realized I was about two seconds away from crying.

"I am THIRTY years OLD and I spent the entire day ATTEMPTING to FILE for two girls younger than me!"

If pride comes before the fall, then I'm, LIKE, totally preparing to take a big digger real soon.

____________________________________________________

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