Monday, February 12, 2007


Ouch. Son of a Bitch!

My feet hurt. Badly. I had the absolute longest interview of my life today. It started at 11:30 AM, and lasted until 7:00 PM. I was told I would be spending time with one of the assistant managers learning the sales method and product offerings. (Yes, after talking about getting out of sales, I am, of course, interviewing for more sales jobs, but at least this one is a sales management position.) What they didn’t tell me was that we would actually be going on sales calls. No big deal, I’ve got a bit of experience making sales calls. However, the guy I was with likes to park in a central location and walk the entire day. I applaud him for not wasting precious fossil fuels, getting exercise, and taking advantage of the awesome weather we had today.

I want to stab him because no one told me, and I spent the entire day walking in dress shoes that are not designed for walking that much. My feet have never hurt this badly before in my life, including the day that I got an exact replica of the Sistine Chapel tattooed on the bottom of them, and then immediately ran a marathon. That’s a bit of an exaggeration, really, it’s a lousy replica of the Sistine Chapel. But hey, it’s on feet, so what do you expect?

I’m also a bit pissed off, because I always ask, before I agree to go on an interview, if the position is salary plus commission, or 100% commission. I don’t go on any interviews for commission-only positions. I refuse to, I’ve done it before, and was mildly successful, but it was too stressful. Imagine my surprise when, after seven and a half hours (not to mention the time I spent on the first interview) I was told that the pay was based “entirely on performance.” Anyone want to guess what that means? One hundred percent commission. When I brought up the fact that I had been told, quite specifically, that his job had a base salary, they explained they had meant the “training bonus” of $75 a day for four days. Wow. A base salary of $300 a year. Where the hell do I sign? Do I also get a swift kick in the nuts for a holiday bonus? Perhaps a jab to the kidneys when I request vacation time? Will I be working in a basement with Asian children making Nikes?

I don't mean to sound bitter. In fact, I believe that there is money to be made working for this company. I just will not accept any commission-only jobs, and I feel that today was a colossal waste of my time that could have been better spent filling out more applications, or even just watching cartoons, getting drunk, and prank calling government offices.

Ah well, tomorrow is another day, filled with more interviews, and some minor car repairs. Still, my life rocks. All I ask for is a roof over my head and some beer money, and I still got it, baby.

Let me know what the hell you're all up to, and who wants to join me in getting absolutely, retardedly plastered this weekend so I can forget my foot pain, and the last 7.5 hours of my life.

JT out.

I was going to post a comment about how you need to keep reaching for that rainbow, or some other nonsense.

Then I saw the phrase "getting absolutely, retardedly plastered," and started laughing so hard I forgot what I was going to say.
Yeah, it should be a good weekend.
I know this is late, but I just had to comment. My buddy was kidnapped for a day by people like this. He spent the entire day walking around banging on doors watching a guy try to sell coupon books. His girlfriend was about to call the police because he didn't get home til 6 that night and had no idea where he was. At the time I thought it was the funniest damn thing I'd ever heard. But seriously, to this day if you say 'marketing' to him he wets himself and hides in the corner.
I can relate. It was painful, embarrassing, and somehow also arousing.

It made me feel dirty, used and alive.
My own MLM experience involved a saavy financial company that left me feeling exactly the same way.
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