Friday, September 01, 2006

Sweet, Sassy Reality Kickin' Snubs in the Face

So I'm working for Prof. X again. I decided I couldn't actually "co-write" an article because I have no freaking idea what's going on, and I've only got about 3 weeks before school starts. But I did offer my services as a research assistant... free of charge of course.

However Prof. X wouldn't take no for an answer, and informed me that I would be paid if I did research for the article. I'm no longer a student at Prof. X's school. In order to pay me, an outside employment agency has to hire me. I'm not sure why, but some bureaucratic nonsense is at work.

So I go down to the employment agency's local office today... and, wow. The people in there definitely aren't working at large law firms. It was an ugly, disgusting, frightening, and depressing look at the way life actually pans out for a lot of people.

I remember going to those places once or twice when I was hard up for a job after undergrad, and grasping at straws. I hated it. They reek of desparation, and the people who staff them feel so predatory. When I graduated from college, it was the middle of the tech burst, and I lived in one of the hardest hit places in the country. I went to a couple of these places based on a friend's recommendation. They always had the shittiest jobs you can possibly imagine, and no shortage of downtrodden human beings waiting to staff them. I decided pretty quickly that I'd rather eat a pistol, or go work the night shift at the local copy store than work collections for some third rate auto financing company, or do mind-numbing data entry work.
So, I busted my hump for $9.18 an hour for two years before law school, wearing a nametag and an apron. But you know what? I felt more honest doing that than I would've at any bullshit clerical job that I would've hated twice as much. Hell, at least I got to listen to my own music and nobody ever told me to cut my hair or shave.

It all worked out in the end. I have the job I want, I enjoy doing it, and they pay me so much I don't mind haircuts or razors. Hell, I'll even wear a tie.

But life doesn't work out for everyone. I imagine for every me, there's someone still walking into an employment agency somewhere, hoping to score a receptionist gig for 3 months while the permanent employee takes her maternity leave, or hoping that the next assignment will be "the one" that leads to permanent employment. It's horrible. There were three other people in the place with me today. I was the youngest one there, by a wide margin, and I felt like an asshole. I felt like an asshole because I already HAVE a job... this is just a side project that I would actually be doing for free if it weren't for Prof. X's insistence that I be paid. I felt like an asshole because these people came into the agency dressed in suits and skirts, hoping to make a good impression on their new handlers; I showed up in jeans, unshaven, in a t-shirt with a cheese stain on it, and I haven't had a haircut since June. I felt like an asshole because I make more than any three people in that building put together, and I turned down a job that would've paid more than any 4 of them combined. Most of all, I felt like an asshole because these people seemed to actually be trying. I'm used to writing off the homeless, the panhandlers, and the beggars. I feel little sympathy for drunks, drug addicts, or fuckups. But these people were different. These people were working, or at least trying to, and that made me feel like a real bastard for taking what I've got for granted.

I've never felt "rich" before. Today I did. I found it to be very uncomfortable.

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

<< Home