I am a writer
Background: I was called a couple weeks back to come in for an interview with a company I’d never heard of. Since I’m ethically bound by receiving unemployment to not refuse work, I said sure–even though I was a bit creeped out by the whole exchange. (I still don’t know how he got my contact information.)
After I hung up, Renee and I did a little looking around and it turned out said company was one of those which got you to pay money up front for training and products to sell, like Amway. Hilariously, I knew about such schemes thanks to a certain anime about NEET culture in Japan (Welcome to the NHK), and knew not to fill out anything or agree to anything. But I still had to go, ethically.
When I got there, I was handed a questionnaire and left alone in an office, presumably to fill it out. The man I met with didn’t want to talk until I had filled out the multipage form that wanted all sorts of information I wasn’t keen on sharing for just an interview–especially one I hadn’t applied to*. So I waited and looked around at what was visible in the office. His name, along with a few others, were on a whiteboard. There were tallies next to each name (my guy had one). On the wall across from the board was a pair of plaques for excellent performance for the past two quarters. I didn’t see a name on them. I made the reasonable assumption that the office was used by which ever of the names behind me brought in perspectives-and that proved to be right later.
The man returned and looked at my blank form askance.
I leaned forward, “So what kind of position am I being interviewed for, exactly?”
“Well, you’ll be helping families find financial security by providing them with term life insurance.”
“So…sales then? I was thinking you were looking for a developer or something.”
“Nope, we’re looking for salespeople.”
“I’m not sure if sales is what I want to be doing.”
He looks at me, he knows I know this position is a trap. “I thought you said you wanted to do something different on the phone.”
“Yeah, different from what I was doing, but still in my wheelhouse. I can barely talk to people now as it is and you expect me to just cold call people and then hard sell them?”
“I know. It seems daunting, but I was just like you a few months ago and now I’ve got my own office and everything!” He smiles, like that’s supposed to be THE THING to convince me that a position with absolutely no security what-so-ever was worth jumping on.
“Look, I’ll be straight with you. I’m a writer, or trying to be at any rate, and a position like this, with virtually no separation between work and life, is probably going to consume my, already strapped, free time.”
He looked stunned and was quiet for a moment. Finally, he shrugged and opened the office door. He looked disappointed, but I kept the phrase I am a writer firmly fixed in my mind as I walked past him and out the front door.
Though I’ve put off posting this, more from a lack of remembering to finish it than anything, the encounter really has set the tone for the year. I will be more creative, I will finish projects, and I will be a writer.
Writer. Me. 😀
*Really not sure where this mistrust of the use of my personal information came from with regards to businesses. Maybe it was those articles about big firms “opening” positions just to trawl for resumes or maybe its that I have to make an account to apply for every job I come across.