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Yes, yes, after four (three...?) months of sitting idly in my new apartment, I finally got a job. In a warehouse, in the DSL area. My roommate had a similar job for one month (she quit, for reasons I will attempt to explain here) with the same company, through the same temp service.
Yesterday, my first day, had to show up early (8:15 AM, as opposed to my scheduled shift of 10:00) for a very short orientation. Two of the other newbies recognized me from our orientation through the temp agency last week.
It took the company a good half an hour to even send their representative from the temp company to help us get started for the day. Uh, okay... She didn't even have everything she needed. She had to make up a name badge for someone who had been waiting with us. Oh well.
We get fractured off into our little groups for the areas we're going to be working in, and my group (including the two girls who recognized me and another guy who'd been at our orientation, I later realized) get dropped off with a sub supervisor, and just stand there for a good twenty minutes while she prints out emergency contacts for us. Oh... kay...
And then we get set up doing what could only have been busy work. Stuff that could easily be done by machine. Easily. We spent most of the day doing this task of labeling Ethernet cable packages with barcodes, and repackaging them. But every twenty minutes or so, a supervisor would come over and tell us we were doing it wrong. Or, my favorite (*growl*) "Work smarter, not harder." (Alright, assh*le... "This is just a Sisyphean task for us newbies, huh?" S-m-r-t enough for you?)
We went for our thirty minute lunch break, and I got stopped at security (right in front of the break room, metal detectors...), yeah, great. I had nothing in my pockets, I had taken off my belt. I had NO metal on me. Except maybe my zipper, and even that's questionable, aren't they mostly plastic nowadays? I went through this one metal detector three times, and set it off every, single TIME! I'd been through the other detector earlier with no problems. Guard tells me to go stand off to the side and she'd come and wand me. So, I stand there, shoes in my hand, waiting. And waiting. And waiting! And suddenly, I have company also waiting to get wanded. And she's mouthy and loud. I wanted to slap her for yelling at the guards. 'Aww, you wanna go home? I wanna eat before I keel over!' Anyway, security lady comes over and wands me finally, finds nothing, says, "Write down 'Jeans' in the log..." Log? What log? And why should I do this? Is it not your job? I'm hungry, piss off, and let me go eat my peanut butter and nothin' sandwich!
I go into the break room, and grab my sandwich and a can of juice from the vending machine, and eat sullenly with my new coworkers. One of whom starts asking me just the right/wrong questions, and gets me to admit I'm not straight, but I am a virgin. And she asks if I've ever been naked with anyone. "*blink, blink* Yes, technically."
"And it's never gotten as far as sex? How old are you? You a player?"
"27, and no. I just don't like the idea of sex, really."
"You're 27, and a virgin?" Other coworkers start to stare.
"Yes..."
"I don't believe it."
"Don't care, it's true."
"And, you've been naked with others, but it never got to sex?"
"Technically, yes. I hang out at Rocky Horror..."
"Rocky Whore?"
"Horror."
"Whore?"
"Watch my jaw... it bounces twice, there are two syllables, b*tch! Horr, Or! You know, 'Science Fiction, Double Feature'?"
We go back to our work, and continue what we were doing. And suddenly, she tells me I should be doing my part this way, and I start to, but it requires that I bend down and kill my back, so one of our coworkers asks me if that hurts, and I say, "Yes."
CW1 (questions girl) tells me she didn't tell me to do it that way. And I just exploded. Yelled, flung my hands, everything. And she just jumps off to another subject entirely (why the hell I wasn't responding to her questions earlier? "Well, your voice is in a range that I don't consciously pick up on it. Particularly when my mind is tuned out. If you were to say my name first, I'd be picking up on that, and would pay attention"
And why do you keep saying 'What?' That's rude! "Huh? Is that more polite? It's how I grew up. I use 'What' in much the same way as you apparently use MotherF___er.")
And yadda yadda yadda... couldn't hardly stand even the drive home, my body hurt so badly.
Went again today, with severely less items in my pockets, and in shorts so I wouldn't need a belt, hoping it would get me through security faster... it kind of did, but only after I realized that the one sensor hates me, so I need to avoid it from now on. I have to (HAVE TO!) duck to get through their metal detectors. And the one I tried to go through three times in a row today, I set it off all three times. The other security guard asks me if I'm wearing a belt, so I lift my shirt to show off my drawstring shorts. I have no pockets left to empty... guard at that metal detector suggests I try the other one as she watches me duck to get through again, and I go through that detector no problem. And go to break, whereupon CW1 begs for the quarter I'll get back from my dollar for drink. "Ah, no, I have exactly how much I'll need for two drinks today, I'm saving it for lunch."
We all get back from break, and CW1 somewhat relates my exploding at her yesterday, and seemed to laugh it off. (The hell? She's one of... five or so people I've absolutely hated by the end of the first day I met them. I usually get along with everyone at first, and they have to earn my ire. She went straight for the throat yesterday. Laughing it off won't get you on my good side, b*tch!)
Oh, and our task for the day was no less Sisyphean. Spent the entire eight hours peeling little black dots from one sheet, and placing them dead center on another sheet, and setting CDs on those dots, so they became spindles, and then paperclipping a brochure to the construct. ALL, DAY LONG! My mind was turned off the moment I walked in the door. I hardly even opened my mouth today. I didn't respond to anything until about an hour before we were to go home, when another coworker suddenly pushed his desk over in front of mine per instructions from who knows, and then started asking me if I like rap? "No." What about Jay-Z? "No." Nelly? "No." Snoop? "That would be, hell no." Neither do I. 'Why the f*** are you asking me then?' He had an odd tendency to use the N word like it were a comma. And he was hitting on yet another coworker, who also used motherf***er ilke a period. I wanted to yell, "Shut up, both of you! You, stop hitting on her and work. You, stop using that language! This' an abusive work environment."
One of my other coworkers, who was standing right next to me as we worked, noticed my height, and tried to guess my weight (roughly 50 pounds short, but nice of her) and realized that, due to my height and weight, my feet must've been hurting like no tomorrow. "Er, yes, they are." She suggested a desk job, to which I said, "Yes, but they weren't hiring." She asked if I liked the job during one of the moments I was kneeling down so I wouldn't be sick/lightheaded, and I told her truthfully. "No, no, I really don't. My back is killing me, and my feet have gone so far through pain I can't feel them any longer."
Yesterday, my first day, had to show up early (8:15 AM, as opposed to my scheduled shift of 10:00) for a very short orientation. Two of the other newbies recognized me from our orientation through the temp agency last week.
It took the company a good half an hour to even send their representative from the temp company to help us get started for the day. Uh, okay... She didn't even have everything she needed. She had to make up a name badge for someone who had been waiting with us. Oh well.
We get fractured off into our little groups for the areas we're going to be working in, and my group (including the two girls who recognized me and another guy who'd been at our orientation, I later realized) get dropped off with a sub supervisor, and just stand there for a good twenty minutes while she prints out emergency contacts for us. Oh... kay...
And then we get set up doing what could only have been busy work. Stuff that could easily be done by machine. Easily. We spent most of the day doing this task of labeling Ethernet cable packages with barcodes, and repackaging them. But every twenty minutes or so, a supervisor would come over and tell us we were doing it wrong. Or, my favorite (*growl*) "Work smarter, not harder." (Alright, assh*le... "This is just a Sisyphean task for us newbies, huh?" S-m-r-t enough for you?)
We went for our thirty minute lunch break, and I got stopped at security (right in front of the break room, metal detectors...), yeah, great. I had nothing in my pockets, I had taken off my belt. I had NO metal on me. Except maybe my zipper, and even that's questionable, aren't they mostly plastic nowadays? I went through this one metal detector three times, and set it off every, single TIME! I'd been through the other detector earlier with no problems. Guard tells me to go stand off to the side and she'd come and wand me. So, I stand there, shoes in my hand, waiting. And waiting. And waiting! And suddenly, I have company also waiting to get wanded. And she's mouthy and loud. I wanted to slap her for yelling at the guards. 'Aww, you wanna go home? I wanna eat before I keel over!' Anyway, security lady comes over and wands me finally, finds nothing, says, "Write down 'Jeans' in the log..." Log? What log? And why should I do this? Is it not your job? I'm hungry, piss off, and let me go eat my peanut butter and nothin' sandwich!
I go into the break room, and grab my sandwich and a can of juice from the vending machine, and eat sullenly with my new coworkers. One of whom starts asking me just the right/wrong questions, and gets me to admit I'm not straight, but I am a virgin. And she asks if I've ever been naked with anyone. "*blink, blink* Yes, technically."
"And it's never gotten as far as sex? How old are you? You a player?"
"27, and no. I just don't like the idea of sex, really."
"You're 27, and a virgin?" Other coworkers start to stare.
"Yes..."
"I don't believe it."
"Don't care, it's true."
"And, you've been naked with others, but it never got to sex?"
"Technically, yes. I hang out at Rocky Horror..."
"Rocky Whore?"
"Horror."
"Whore?"
"Watch my jaw... it bounces twice, there are two syllables, b*tch! Horr, Or! You know, 'Science Fiction, Double Feature'?"
We go back to our work, and continue what we were doing. And suddenly, she tells me I should be doing my part this way, and I start to, but it requires that I bend down and kill my back, so one of our coworkers asks me if that hurts, and I say, "Yes."
CW1 (questions girl) tells me she didn't tell me to do it that way. And I just exploded. Yelled, flung my hands, everything. And she just jumps off to another subject entirely (why the hell I wasn't responding to her questions earlier? "Well, your voice is in a range that I don't consciously pick up on it. Particularly when my mind is tuned out. If you were to say my name first, I'd be picking up on that, and would pay attention"
And why do you keep saying 'What?' That's rude! "Huh? Is that more polite? It's how I grew up. I use 'What' in much the same way as you apparently use MotherF___er.")
And yadda yadda yadda... couldn't hardly stand even the drive home, my body hurt so badly.
Went again today, with severely less items in my pockets, and in shorts so I wouldn't need a belt, hoping it would get me through security faster... it kind of did, but only after I realized that the one sensor hates me, so I need to avoid it from now on. I have to (HAVE TO!) duck to get through their metal detectors. And the one I tried to go through three times in a row today, I set it off all three times. The other security guard asks me if I'm wearing a belt, so I lift my shirt to show off my drawstring shorts. I have no pockets left to empty... guard at that metal detector suggests I try the other one as she watches me duck to get through again, and I go through that detector no problem. And go to break, whereupon CW1 begs for the quarter I'll get back from my dollar for drink. "Ah, no, I have exactly how much I'll need for two drinks today, I'm saving it for lunch."
We all get back from break, and CW1 somewhat relates my exploding at her yesterday, and seemed to laugh it off. (The hell? She's one of... five or so people I've absolutely hated by the end of the first day I met them. I usually get along with everyone at first, and they have to earn my ire. She went straight for the throat yesterday. Laughing it off won't get you on my good side, b*tch!)
Oh, and our task for the day was no less Sisyphean. Spent the entire eight hours peeling little black dots from one sheet, and placing them dead center on another sheet, and setting CDs on those dots, so they became spindles, and then paperclipping a brochure to the construct. ALL, DAY LONG! My mind was turned off the moment I walked in the door. I hardly even opened my mouth today. I didn't respond to anything until about an hour before we were to go home, when another coworker suddenly pushed his desk over in front of mine per instructions from who knows, and then started asking me if I like rap? "No." What about Jay-Z? "No." Nelly? "No." Snoop? "That would be, hell no." Neither do I. 'Why the f*** are you asking me then?' He had an odd tendency to use the N word like it were a comma. And he was hitting on yet another coworker, who also used motherf***er ilke a period. I wanted to yell, "Shut up, both of you! You, stop hitting on her and work. You, stop using that language! This' an abusive work environment."
One of my other coworkers, who was standing right next to me as we worked, noticed my height, and tried to guess my weight (roughly 50 pounds short, but nice of her) and realized that, due to my height and weight, my feet must've been hurting like no tomorrow. "Er, yes, they are." She suggested a desk job, to which I said, "Yes, but they weren't hiring." She asked if I liked the job during one of the moments I was kneeling down so I wouldn't be sick/lightheaded, and I told her truthfully. "No, no, I really don't. My back is killing me, and my feet have gone so far through pain I can't feel them any longer."
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