Ya'll Hirin' n' Shit?

it's no secret i work in a less than high society environment. i work with some people with felonies on their records, GEDs as their high achievements in life, and other societal rejects that just needed (and sometimes actually deserved) a second chance. such is life in a call center.

make no mistake, my job is of an executive capacity. i'm not a telemarketer. i'm a glorified account manager, sometimes sales manager, and often times HR rep. beyond my principle duties of being the face and voice of the company to the outside world, i do it all. most of the managers there do a lot, but where they all have backup and some help, i have none. i'm alone. i'm an island unto myself.

as we continue to grow, adding new clients, booking more hours from existing ones, we need new employees. interviewing is one of my least favorite activities, but a necessary evil if you're in management and you actually want your company to succeed. what i've noticed since stepping up to help out with hiring is shocking and alarming to my good senses, and an affront to everything i learned in my business curriculum (i'd say "b-school," but that's a year off). to illustrate:

you'll recall the guy who foiled crimes in his spare time. he was but one example of many of how the lesser educated, or those from less fortunate circumstances, have been ill prepared for the challenges of life...like interviewing.

we got a call recently in response to an ad we'd placed in the local paper. the voice on the other end of the line asked, "are ya'll hirin' n' shit?" stunned, our receptionist asked him to repeat himself, unsure she'd heard correctly. she did. no, asshole, we're not hiring.

there was the lady i interviewed with a lazy eye, 3 teeth, and a runny nose. yes, her nose was running and she asked for a kleenex. i didn't have one, so she decided her sleeve would be an appropriate replacement....while i was asking her interview questions. of course, the official reason i didn't hire her was that she couldn't read. at all. and through it all, she managed to avoid breaking down in tears until the very end. bravo.

of course, what story would be complete without the stay at home single mom (seriously, how do you even do that? welfare can't pay that much) who hadn't worked in 8 years? her only work experience was fast food. when she was 17. in her words she "(i) is a good people person, wit good talkin' skills." the hallmark of any good salesperson, i presume.

one of today's 6 interviews may have taken the cake....the gang banger chick who hadn't worked in 3 years because she had some personal issues to tend to. i probed a bit to learn more. mistake. i was met with a barrage of "fuckin' niggas,"bitches," "shit, dawg" and other stereotypical 'hood slang. i thought she was joking. really, i did. i tried to hold in my laughter, but when she told me her skillz made her queen bitch at her last job, i lost it. and then she lost it...any chance at a job, that is. needless to say, i removed her from the office, once i caught my breath.

stories of employees behaving badly after they've been hired are abundant, and will be saved for a rainy day. if anything, interviewing these, er, social invalids has made me better appreciate my upbringing, my education, and the opportunities i've been afforded. welcome to life in an urban call center. i can't wait till grad school comes to rescue me. dawg.

I'm Torn

so, another birthday has come and gone. no matter. i'm getting older and i no longer feel the need to celebrate multiple days for the occasion like i had in during my collegiate years. i no longer ask for many presents (some people will confirm that i've never been one who particularly likes gifts, but this year i did want a pony to fulfill a lifelong dream). and so, i've settled into my birthday routine, my annual groove if you will. people who care know the date. people who pay attention know to either not get me anything at all or keep it super simple.

i, however, didn't follow the rules and bought myself an expensive entry level mountain bike. my body, not to be outdone, presented me this year with a torn ankle ligament and frays of 2 other tendons shortly after this purchase. talk about going all out! multiple 100s of dollars on a bike and a couple thou on xrays and MRIs. now THAT'S a celebration. i also got a very fashionable boot, one that would make GPG both jealous and insecure of her own collection of footwear, and alot of sympathy...from women. i like it.

and to think, i haven't even hit the vaunted 30 year mark yet. lord knows what that birthday will hold. thankfully, i have 2 years to worry about it...and a shit ton of vicodin to ease the anguish of the thought.

The Riches, A First Look

...in 100 words or less

creepy, dark, dramatic. 2 british actors, 2 american accents. minnie driver. southern drawl. Weird. Strung out, alcoholic. Nervous, worrysome, moody. plays her part to the hilt. eddie izzard. my comedic hero. not funny, witty. mysterious, smooth, cunning, wanting the best for his family. no remorse, no regret, no plan. just vision.

son #1, white trash. son #2, older white trash. Daughter, sense of morality, but goes with the flow. Wait till age 18. Family background, gypsy and hillbilly mix. Wanderers.

Premise unique. Interesting. Original. Script average. Acting, superb. Intriguing show, not great. Entertaining. Watch next week. Grade: B-

98 words. not bad. next week, we'll focus on constructing complete sentences. g'nite.

Look it up

i opened my front door today and found a stack of new phone books. yippee! i don't use the local telecommunications giant's services, but i commend them on the gesture. but seriously, is it absolutely necessary to deliver 4 phone books to a 1 bedroom apartment? even i can't lose that many things.

since al gore invented the internet web machine a number of years back, the phone book has become virtually obsolete. i should call the phone company and tell them i don't need any more books. anyone have their number?

Inspiration

with march madness in full effect, i sometimes reflect on the impact of certain athletes and personalities on my life or on society in general. i think the most inspirational sports figure in a generation wasn't an athlete, but a coach.

it's been 14 years, but i believe this is the best speech given in my lifetime regarding any topic, given by anyone, anywhere. enjoy, your moment of zen. (thanks JStew).


Jim Valvano's Espy Speech

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Trust Me, I'm a Doctor

i'm not sure why i bother taking off work to go to the doctor anymore. what i should be doing is simply calling to schedule the most expensive tests i can find, which is essentially the end result of nearly every visit i've had in the past year. case in point, this morning's appointment:

dr: how are you?

me: well, i'm here, right?

dr: good point. so what's up?

me: (explanation).

dr: (bunch of questions to which he already has the answers, such as what medications i'm on. ya know, the ones HE PRESCRIBED TO ME.)

me: it hasn't gotten any worse, so i wasn't really worried. (insert something about better to be safe than sorry).

dr: yeah, better to be safe than sorry.

Me: (thinking): right, i just said that. thanks, dr. echo.

me: so, what's going on?

dr: could be anything really.

me: no shit.

dr: i think we'll need to do some tests to be sure. we can't keep running you through nuclear tests, 'cause they add up (not to mention i'll start to glow eventually). here are your options: test 1 will cost a few fingers. test 2 will cost an arm. test 3 will cost an arm and part of a leg, but it's the only way to really tell what's going on. it'll also involve a hospital stay of about 2 days. i know you've been shying away from test 3, which is okay, it's just not the course i would take.

me: (of course you'd go a different way, you make 5x's the salary i do). right, i think i'll avoid test 3 again. so, how 'bout i try taking _____ instead for a bit and see how that works?

dr: okay, that's a good thought for the next few days. i'm scheduling you for test 1 and for test 4, which i never told you about. after that, i'll probably prescribe you another medication which, unfortunately, doesn't have a generic (i.e. costs more than my mortgage). so, schedule that with the admin and i'll see you in a few weeks.

me: um, great.

RECAP: my suggestions were all good. doctor doesn't know. scheduled for really fucking expensive tests that will probably show that there's nothing wrong. he's the doctor, i'm broke. groovy.

Vigilante

it's funny how hypervigilant and overly sensitive you become once you've experienced a life-altering trauma. people who've been critically injured in car accidents are certainly more aware than most of us where the trucks, other cars, and potential dangers lie. gun shot victims are equally likely to know exact blocks of streets and parts of neighborhoods to avoid.

heart attack survivors are no different. so, as this discomfort in my chest has continued, i called my doctor this morning. i noticed this feeling a few days ago, but armed with the memory of how the first go around felt, i decided this probably wasn't much to worry about. hell, i climbed a mountain and went to the gym yesterday and actually felt better while doing both than i have while being completely sedentary.

the discomfort has persisted for about 5 days now. i called the nurse, she asked some questions and agreed after my answers that this probably wasn't anything to be alarmed about. nevertheless, the old saying "better safe than sorry" is applicable. i'll be heading to the dr. office tomorrow morning, anticipating paying an ungodly amount of money only find out i have a deep muscular strain or some sort of infection. oh well, better those than a faulty ticker.

the last few days, my attention has been completely divided between whatever it is i'm supposed to be doing and whatever sensation i'm feeling in my chest at the moment. had the discomfort intensified, i'd know (based on previous experience, thus certifying me as an expert) that'd i'd surely be in trouble. but it hasn't. it's almost like indigestion in my chest and it's more annoying than it is painful. regardless, it's high time i found out what's going on. at the very least, for my own sanity. it's quite unnerving being at the gym wondering with half a brain if my next rep may be my last. obviously i'm a bit more positive than that right now. but hey, a dead me doesn't do anyone any good. updates to follow.