Office Job Pitfalls

I recently tricked an old boss into giving me a job at the stock photography company she's running, which is great for me, because I like getting paid.  It allows me to live indoors (which is very important to me in the winter), and buy food to eat, and do other things that allow me to keep living.  I've been at the job now for about 5 months, and it's been going swimmingly.  Mostly.  It took me a while to overcome my biggest hurdle, which was salutations.


As part of my job, I had to call and email a lot of photographers.  It was easy enough to sign off my emails with "Thanks, L Bo," but I wanted something a little more fun and creative.  Many of our photographers are British, which allows them to casually and breezily say things like "Cheers," to end a conversation.  I, however, am American, and on top of that, not nearly cool enough to use that phrase on the phone, and in an email, it feels like I'm cheating.  I've tried many incarnations on the phone, like "talk to you soon," which is often a lie; "have a great day," which makes me sound like a salesman; and "sincerely," which doesn't even make sense.  I've finally settled on "Toodles," or "Ta-ta for now," when it's more formal.  Obstacle hurdled.

This Dating Life: Back Again, Surprise!

Conversation with woman from online dating site who I never met, but spoke with 6 months ago, then started dating someone else, now back in the dating game, and hoping to woo her into going out with me, since she was of the mind set that I was very inconsistent and inconsiderate:


Scorned woman: What do you do for a living?  I've forgotten


Me, pluckily: I'm a CIA agent/photographer/urban farmer/leg model


Her: unemployed?


Me, truthfully for the first time in too long, and triumphantly: Actually, no


Her: I'm guessing you are a photographer


Me, hysterically: That's cause you haven't seen my legs yet


Her, in a textual tone that let me know my goal wasn't working: Oh god


Me, trying to answer for real:  I am a photographer.  I'm working at a photo agency right now.  I teach. And I AM an urban farmer.  But I'm not a hipster.


Her, possibly disappointedly, and definitely breaking fundamental rules of English 101: But you aren't a leg model.  And you aren't a CIA agent.


Me: I can't confirm or deny that last one.


In the end, my charisma, charm and pluckiness won out and we went on some dates.  I ended up ending it, rather inconsiderately.

Beardsley

I've been growing a huge beard for about 4 months now, chin-strapped on the sides and long in the goatee area. My mom and sister hate it and I'm scared they'll shave it off when I sleep. So I moved and didn't tell them where to. They told me I look like Abraham Lincoln, which I think is a great compliment. He was one of our greatest presidents, after all. Between that and my current elevated position at the Census, I'm sure I'll be able to make a strong run for US Senate next year. Or whenever they wanna let me apply for that job.

Glamourous Giobs (Jobs)

Working for the US Census Bureau is exactly as glamorous as you'd imagine. When they told me I'd be training for 2 to 4 days before they got me up and running on reading manuals everyday or printing maps, I imagined it would be similar to how US Agent or Captain America trains. And I wasn't disappointed (by that, at least).

After navigating obstacle courses straight out the Danger Room, I memorized the names of a thousand forms and their purposes. After that, I was able to learn how to use a copier, which, by the way, runs on magic. Or are made of magic, as my fellow clerk told me. My computer based training, or CBT (because acronyms are awesome, apparently), showed me what an up arrow was, then told me it was for going up, while the down arrow should be clicked for the purposes of going down.

As mentioned earlier, a couple things have disappointed me. My supervisor is great, but he looks a lot like Jared Jeffries, and I constantly want to ask him how he's in the NBA without any discernible offensive talent. My manager reminds me of Ricky Gervais, but he never giggles, asks if I'm having a laugh, or says anything funny in a British accent. Finally, the map pouches which hold the maps that all operations are reliant on aren't really map pouches. I had imagined oil skin pouches, like something Lewis and Clark carried with them. Instead they're simply inter-office envelopes with maps inside. How commonplace! If the enumerators aren't frontiersman types like Davy Crockett decked out in a coonskin hats, but rather everyday people who enjoy counting, I think I may quit.

Constitutional Defender

Think long and hard next time you think about trying to fight the Constitution, because you'll have to go through me first. After being sworn in as an official US Census Bureau employee, I'm now allowed to defend the constitution against all enemies, both foreign AND domestic. If you thought 24 was gripping and raw, you ain't seen nothing yet. All enemies better stay hidden like camouflaged ninjas cause if I even see them GLANCE at the Constitution the wrong way, I'll take the Queenz bat* to them.

Somehow, despite having the most ambivalent interview ever, I was given a job as office clerk, to start training a scant 4 days after interviewing. Going against HD's first piece of advice, (more on that later), I wore a button down shirt and jeans. Arriving at the office, I noticed everyone in training was wearing a suit, or dress pants, tucked in shirt and a tie. I laughed at those clowns, thinking they were completely overdressed. Then I saw my manager in a suit. THEN I got the rules of the office, which included "all male employees are to wear a tie." I wondered what happened to the office I saw last week, with my manager in a thermal shirt under a t shirt. Ohhhhh, I slowly figured out, that was CASUAL FRIDAY.

The second piece of advice HD offered me was to make my lunch and breakfast the night before. Ridiculous, I said. If I did that, the jelly would leak through my bread and make my PB & J all soggy. Yuck. I ended up not having enough time to make both in the morning, and having to go without a sandwich. I did have a not soggy PB & J though, so, really...victory.

*The Queenz Bat is a bat James and I found when we were about 17, wooden, completely beaten up and possibly with traces of blood on it. It was clearly never used for playing ball, but rather for hitting things. These things might also be commonly called "people's body parts."

My Sonic Screw Driver Failed Me

After getting 100 on the US Census Bureau test, I was fairly certain they'd ask me to be a local manager, maybe even run the whole things. Odds were in my favor that I'd BECOME the census, and just guess how many people there are, what their ages, sex, race, religion and shoe sizes are, and where they live. I was called in Thursday night for a Friday morning interview, uncertain even of what position I was applying for.

It was rough preparing, as I had to squeeze into 8 year old khakis and throw on a fancy shirt. It's odd, but there's not much call for dress pants in the "sitting on the couch" industry. When I arrived at the address, I had to triple check to make sure, as it looked mostly abandoned. I almost didn't go inside, as I started thinking this was all a plot to recruit humans to be skinned or absorbed or dissolved or eaten to fuel some alien's insidious plot. I REALLY need to stop watching Doctor Who before I go to sleep.

My interview involved 4 people, which seemed to confirm I was there for a high level job. However, words used by the manager, like "clerk" and "office," seemed to refute my hypothesis. I wasn't prepared for some of the questions asked, like "why do you want to work for the census?" or "what are your strengths, and what are your weaknesses?" I wish I had paraphrased Nas and said I had no weaknesses, that way no one can move on me. The interview lasted 15 minutes, which meant I wasted 3 quarters at the meter. Why do people have to ask such tough questions at interviews?!?! Jerks.

I work hard for jars of honey

Last Friday, I had the privilege of taking the US Census Bureau test, and getting the highest score in the history of ever on it. My competition was what you'd expect to see at jury duty, or the DMV.

"I'm not sure," said one man when asked if he was registered to vote, after not being sure if he had signed up for selective service. Joke could be on him pretty soon.

Veterans get special preference on the test, adding 5 points to their score. Now, I'm not mocking veterans or soldiers, as I greatly appreciate what they've done for the country. Like Mike Birbiglia said, "I love the troops, because if they weren't the troops, I'd be the troops." This guy asked if he'd get the 5 extra points because he "served in Iraq, with Generals Schwarzkopf and Colin Powell, in the Gulf War." Like he was sitting on a bench, and those were the guys to the left and right of him.

Best of all was one slightly delirious, continuous question asking, myopic lady. I listened to all her tales, but finally tuned out after I heard the "psychic-spiritual realm."

All this is to say I feel pretty good about my chances. If the Census Bureau does offer me a job though, I'm going to try to start a bidding war. Sure, $18 an hour is great, but the Associated Supermarket down the block wants me real bad, and they're willing to give me $20 an hour to count cans, plus all the artichokes I can eat and priority checkout. Can you top that, government?

I'm just kidding. If I get offered any job at this point I'll take it. It's gotten so bad that I've even applied to the popular office supply store "Papals." And not even heard back from them. The only thing "Papals" has to do with the Vatican is I said "HOLY SHIT, my self-esteem is so low I'm applying to Papals, and not even getting hired there!"