quiet_tiger | Work Updates

Last week when I worked as a flagger, it was really easy. This week, it's a little more difficult. We work for ten hours straight, with only a half-hour brak for lunch. I wouldn't mind this so much if the actual construction guys didn't take breaks, either, but they take a beverage break in the morning around 10, and they also aren't all working hard the whole day. And yesterday they took an hour or so long break around 2:30 for Wendy's food, which they didn't offer me and the other flagger. That kinda hurt. But, other than that, they seem to be nice guys, and they get us stuff at the morning break, even if we have to stand and still work while consuming our beverage.

Also, this site is dangerous. I really couldn't tell you the number of times I've actually feared for my life, thinking that cars weren't going to stop. And it's not like we're on the interstate or anything, it's a city road that's 30 mph and I work the side with a traffic light a tenth of a mile down. People should not be going that fast.

And yesterday, a guy actually moved to my left (I direct traffic to my right, into the other lane), and drove through the construction site. Like, through the circle of orange cones. I think he only did it because he happened to drive through at a time when the bulldozers were elsewhere, so there really was only a circle of cones, and the portable generator half on the sidewalk.

I wear a day-glo orange vest and an orange hard had, and I wave a big freaking red octagonal sign with "STOP" printed on it, so I'm really not sure how to make myself more visible so I don't get squished by a car. Monday I'm gonna wear my orange t-shirt, so maybe that will help. I was talking with my parents, and they said that construction crews hire girls who dress all seductively while they stop traffic, to stop traffic. I don't exactly feel like doing that, but the pole that supports the sign is about the diameter of a pole-dancer's pole. Not that I have any experience with that.

...

Okay, okay, so my friend's fraternity had a "Red Light District" theme party a couple of years ago, and my friends and I convinced each other to dance around the poles my friend built. He was pleased.

And I've come to the conclusion that there is a Chevy dealership nearby, and a Toyota dealership, because 3/4 of the cars that drive by are either of those makes. And a disturbing number are minivans, the Venture and Sienna, respectively.

And then, the sales job, which I've decided to quit, because I hate it. I'm just not pulling in enough money to make it worth the aggravation of dealing with these people. If I just didn't like them, that'd be one thing. But they actively lie. I saw one of my managers lie to another kid right to his face. He was trying to motivate him, but that's not motivation, that's manipulation. Which I suppose can be looked at in a certain way as being synonymous, but I really don't want to do that.

This same manager also told me not to project my lifestyle on potential customers, which is exactly what all the managers do all the time, so now he's just being a hypocrite. The subject under discussion was how often people use a knife at a meal. He said that he uses a knife at every meal, implying that other people do, too. I considered how often I use a knife in a week. I was able to come up with once or twice, more if like now I'm working and I put together a peanut butter and jelly sandwhich for lunch. But I choose PB & J, I could easily go with cold cuts that don't require a knife. I simply don't eat a lot of food that I need to cut or spread (and I usually try my best to cut chicken and stuff without a knife, because I like to eat with one hand- yeah, I'm weird). And yes, I'm willing to bet that most people use knives more frequently than I do. But that doesn't mean that they should spend their money on what I'm selling. Also, that's another reason I have to quit. I have no faith in the product or the company, and I feel sleazy when I do sell things. I don't want to feel sleazy. What sucks is that my appointments for this week all cancelled, but I know at least two of them actually want to buy stuff (one is a cousin who already owns some of it and wants more), so I'm continuing through next week to finish it out. Now I just have to figure out how to let them know I'm leaving, and still make sure people get their orders and I get paid. There isn't really a classy way to say that these people creep me the fuck out and they annoy the hell out of me and I loathe myself every time I walk into the office.

And, this is what really killed my enthusiasm last night. When I first started this (all of three weeks ago) I had called my friend's parents to meet with them. I met with the dad. We chatted on the phone, and he met with me, listened to my pitch, and gave me some tips, and he showed me the work they did on their house, and I overall had a good time because he's a cool guy (in a geeky sort of way). He even went to undergrad where I'm going to grad school. He didn't buy anything then, but said to call him back before I ended the job because he wanted to look at some things. He also said he would think of people to recommend me to. I called them last week, and left a message on their machine that they didn't reply to. I called them last night, and got my friend's mom. She didn't really seem to know what I was talking about. I asked her if she could think of anyone I could see, friends, family, neighbors, and she told me that she didn't want to "inflict" my presentation on anyone she knows. Yes, she actually used the word "inflict." Ouch. I've known this woman for ten years, and apparently I'm just a bug to her. My parents would never imply that my friend is some sort of pestilence, and certainly not to her face. I then tried to tell her what her husband had told me, and asked her to have him call me if he were still interested. She insisted three times that he wasn't going to buy anything. If I had talked to him, and he said he changed his mind, that's one thing. But she didn't even bother to consider what I was saying, and I doubt he even got the message. So now I don't know if I should call him on his office number, in case of that situation, or just to let it go. But yeah, that really, really hurt.

Last night's theme for the team meeting was "war." I immediately took issue with that, as I'm sure Manager Chick figured out from my tone of voice over the phone. I don't care if we're "at war" with the other offices, war is not something to be glorified. There's a reason I don't watch war movies, though I did have to watch The Thin Red Line for a class last year- wow, was than an unpleasant three hours-, and was a wee bit traumtized. I know that Manager Man is a Republican, and from what I can gather maybe even a war hawk, but geez, when I think of war I get visuals of kids getting shot, mutilated, or killed by enemy soldiers. Nothing glorious. Just painful. And Manager Man had his face painted with what I assume he thought was warpaint, and it just prooved how much of an idiot he is because the way he had it painted, for camoflauge, wouldn't have camoflauged him at all. Camo is painted in irregular patterns (those wavy stripes) to break up a person's outline. A person wearing all black, painted all black, and against a black forrest is visible. The painted streaks disturb that outline of a human, so all you see is a blur that could be anything, or nothing. He had his cheeks painted in the shape of cheeks, triangles in green, with black outlines. I know it was just a silly thing to make a point, but it's details like that that bother me. I know I nitpick too much, but I can't help it. I cannot wait until I'm free of this shit.

I know it's nothing fancy, but I really like directing traffic. I go there, I hold my sign, and then I go home. And it's pretty good pay, though we do have to undertand that if we screw up, we risk a head-on collision. But, there is something really, really satisfying about having cars stop for you. Of course, it means that they stopped and you're not run over, but, there is also the little thrill of satisfaction of authority every time I stop a car. The cars can't go unless I tell them to. I'm in charge. And it's silly, but I like it. It's just more proof I'm a huge geek. *G*