Results tagged “Career Change” from Job Swill

Lies, Damn Lies and Job Interviews

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"The interview lasted 1 hour. I lied once every 7 minutes."

Last night I drove 60 miles for a job interview at 7pm. They were really nice guys. A Marketing Director of a Very Big Financial Company and an agency guy.

My CV has 20 years experience, 7 employers, 1 postgraduate qualification and 3 instances of the word 'dynamic'. The interview lasted 1 hour. I lied once every 7 minutes. Sometimes I lie once every 3 minutes. That's a bad sign.

Here are some of last night's lies:

FALSE: "I don't mind working away from home; it gets me away from my 15 yo daughter."
TRUE: I resent every second that work takes me away from my family.

FALSE: "Thanks for explaining the brief, it sounds really exciting."
TRUE: Saddam Hussain will win the Nobel Peace Prize before this brief delivers value.

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I have the dubious distinction of having held a variety of really shitty jobs. REALLY. SHITTY. JOBS. And while I do not want to make the argument that any of them are worse than what I have seen on this site, it is safe to say a couple of them are unique in this regard: the bullshit didn't end when I left. Be advised there is no happy ending to this story--- yet anyway--- but time is working on my side. Read on and you'll understand...

Job #1: I was an advertising sales assistant at an in-room hotel publication. Unbeknownst to me at the time I was hired, I was walking into a "situation"--- and by using the word 'situation' I am talking about a study in female office dynamics that makes "Whatever Happened to Baby Jane" look like water ballet. You see, I was to work under two women and one was the immediate supervisor of the other. The uber-boss, we'll call her "Blanche", was brought in to supervise my under-boss, who I will henceforth call "Jane".

Jane had applied for the uber-boss position and was passed over in favor of an outside candidate (Blanche). This probably came to pass because Jane is a fucking psycho (as I soon learned): enabling her to supervise anyone would be on par with letting Michael Jackson run a day care facility. Bad idea. In any case, I had already become a pawn between two women who despised each other. Great.

In the interest of brevity I will forgo talking about Blanche's psychotic behavior, as Jane behavior was much more venal...

It started with small stuff: Jane would bitch at me for messing up her file system (I never know there was a 'system', looked piles of shit to me) or she would claim I did not send/give her some vital piece of paper work (and I'd re-send the emails addressed to her proving I did). That's roughly when she told me I had to email her each time I put something in her inbox (because it was not an 'in' box it was a compost heap).

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Would This Happen At One Of Jonathan Antin's Salons?

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I hope there's not a word limit because this is going to be the longest post EVER.

God...What can I say about Patty's.

I guess most of the shit...well, you just had to be there. But honestly, this was 100x crazier than that stupid Johnathan Antin Salon. WE should've had the reality show.

I was a stylit's assistant at one of "Baltimore's 'BEST' salons" for two years. We'll call it Patty's, for short.

I should probably first mention that the owner is about 200 years old, thick accent, white hair slicked back into a ponytail, always wears the same shirt &slacks with the top three buttons undone, white beard...more yellowish really; my boyfriend always said he looked like a wizzard. Now here's where it gets good. He had a trach which he'd always forget to put in the little metal piece so he'd have to stick his finger in it to speak. &when he actually remembered to wear it it would, on many occasions, pop out with a loud QUACKing sound and literally shoot across the room. One of the other assistants was also a nursing student so he volunteered her to clean it out for him. Lucky girl. He would smack the assistants on the ass and make innapropriate comments on a dialy basis, mind you we were all between the ages of 17-24. He found out that I had worked as a cocktail waitress at well...a stip club and commented that maybe he'd come and watch me dance (to which I insisted that I wasn't a dancer...&he then insisted that I should be).

Now, on to co-workers from hell...
Around december he hired a new stylist who'd recently closed her own shop due to financial issues and with her she brouhgt her own assistant. She herself was quite...well...she was a total cunt. She couldn't possibly work at one of the open stations, she made another stylist who'd been there for ages pack up and relocate to the other side of the shop. She was rude and just had this phony-ass demenor, like the kind of person that is all smiles to your face then runs and talks shit about you constantly. The girl she brought with her, we absolutely could not stand. She could not follow directions. Would not close properly even months after she'd been there. She was late EVERYDAY and left early EVERY night. She'd just...not show up at all. [&never got fired because the owner was terrified of black people.] We'd make fun of her mercilessly...but she was kind of slow to catch on. I feel bad about it now because she's a shitty employee, but she's definitely a fun girl to hang out with. But anyway, this stylist's clients , most of them anyway, were just as rude as she was. The salon offered ALL hair services, obviously meaning that we were trained on ALL hair types (simply stated, yes, even us white girls knew how to take care of balck people's hair); if one of us had to take on her client because her assistant, as usual, was late or had called out, she'd send them over and they'd scowl at you and act like you had no idea what you were doing, "uh are you gonna scrub hard enough?" (Sure, I can make your scalp bleed if that's what you'd like. I'll wear gloves) "you ever rinsed a perm before?"(No, I've only been working in the salon industry for four years. What's that?). And of course, they never tipped. She would yell out for you to bring her stuff from across the room, make you drop what you were doing to sweep her station, never said please or thank you.

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Getting It Off My Chest

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I type this with hesistant fingers, as I'm sure my ex-boss (who ALWAYS works SOOOOO hard) is probably surfing the Web, looking at porn and trying to steal other groups' ideas, as I write this. Whew, deep breath, here goes.

I am a hard working college graduate, who wanted to make the world a better place, post-graduation. I joined a non-profit and proceeded to barely endure the worst year and half of my life under the most incompetent, tyrannical, miserable, fugliest, unhappiest boss ever. (Well, if you could call her a boss, her management skills were similar to those of a gorilla who had undergone a lobotomy. Shit-throwing included.)

This person had it out for me from the start, threw things (cell phones, staplers) at me, yelled at me daily, called me dumb just about daily. Uh, bitch, you're the one that hired me!

NEVER ONCE DID I TURN OFF MY CELL PHONE the entire time I worked there, becuse HER MAJESTY WAS SO DAMN FUCKING IMPORTANT. Constant multiple phone calls on the weekends to run down to the office to take care of something that was HER RESPONSIBILITY, her fuckup. I lived in fear of that damn ringtone.

The irony? I am a tough-as-nails, no BS kinda person. I call it like it is and don't take crap from anyone. Except, strangely enough, from her.

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