Moving on. Sonshine, who was top seller at Finish Line, nonetheless saw his hours slashed because he wasn't selling enough kids' department accessories. ("Ma," he says, "how the hell do you sell shoe polish and stuff to people buying kids shoes. They outgrow them too fast to need shoe polish!" A bunch of other people got the real axe, though, so they seemed to want to keep him on board. I'd warned him that a holiday job might not last. Nonetheless, he's a jock. He wants to earn money, though, so he went job hunting.
He's been hitting the disc golf park (yes, people play frisbee golf 'round here -- pro shops, tourneys, etc.), fishing out discs from the pond and (ghu help me) fending off alligators (his girlfriend or another friend stand guard). The players give him 2-3 bucks for a disk, or you can trade them in at the pro shop for a buck. When he was younger, it was pretty sad: he made more money an hour than I did, because he'd come home after three hours on a Saturday with $70 in his pocket.
ANYway, he had the interview at the law firm, and he's probably got the job. No thanks to the OJT teacher at his school who actually told the firm not to hire him b/c his girlfriend also worked there. She's a little nutty. She has a point but I suspect the hiring manager at the law firm has a clue. It's a big agency and they want him to go with an attorney to Georgia for a big case and help her lug around files. They pay for the entire trip, 24/7.
Not sure if he'd get the job at the law firm, he accepted work as a telemarketer. @@ He was reeled in by their talk of $12/hr. I explained reality to him. Told him to go ahead and go b/c he still didn't have serious offer on table from the law firm. So he went to his training session.
Lordy, if the pay wasn't so bad, this place sounds like fertile ground for some hilarious stories. He just came home and had me on the floor laughing 'til I cried. The kid needs to start a blog, I tell ya.
These people, at least at this place, were having a slamming good time. Apparently, they get away with a load of stuff. E.g., they contact someone named Mary Hess and say to her, "Mary Hess huh? Really, well this week, we have a special deal for all members of the Hess family -- the one that owns the gas stations, right? Air duct cleaning, just for the Hess family is $88, discounted from $450 -- and all for being part of the multi-billionaire's club."
A woman answers, she's spanish-speaking, and a kid tells her "I like big tits" in Spanish?! I can't believe they get away with this. (It's telling, of course, that they will only do this to those they peg as vulnerable and/or who they feel they can get away with mocking.)
Another woman named Nassau gets treated to a telemarketer dishing out his political views about NASA. ?! AGain, I suspect they wouldn't do this to a man.
Another kid completely makes up anything and everything about air duct cleaning, telling the person that there's a big ol' 650 horse power motor inside and 90 feet of tubing, etc. etc. He hams it up, making engine noises and sucking sounds.
There was, of course, the usual kidding around: some kind of toy guns were being used to shoot powdery substances at one another. A less messy version of paint ball I suppose.
Oh, the best part is that those of us who complain about the call are called _I_rates. _I_rates, who ask to be taken of their list, are promptly put on the dial back aggressively list and flagged as a 'sucker' name to sell to other agencies.
Of course, the customers get them back, of ten playing along with the sale until they have to provide an address. They customer will say:
"third rock from the son." "two blocks up from the big pond. If you get to the junkyard, you've gone to far."
k
"Be a scribe! Your body will be sleek, your hand will be soft. You are one who sits grandly in your house; your servants answer speedily; beer is poured copiously; all who see you rejoice in good cheer. Happy is the heart of him who writes; he is young each day."
--Ptahhotep, 4500 BCE