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Frank West Special to The Ebbtide Last summer was the first summer I worked. I had already been working at this store my mom managed for a couple of months, but it was starting to get annoying, seeing her all day long. Then one day, I got this letter in the mail, from a company I will call "the company," and they were looking for high school graduates to hire. I didn't pay too much attention to the letter; I sort of just skimmed it. It wasn't even very clear as to what the job description was. But then I noticed the pay: $10 to $12 an hour. And I thought, man, I need to apply for this job! For some reason, my mom wasn't buying this. I didn't understand. The pay was good. You can set your own hours. It sounded great to me. I knew just about everything I thought I needed to know. Of course, I didn't know everything. How could I? Not from reading that single sheet of paper, or from a professional-sounding name with a fancy logo. And definitely not from the possible dollar signs floating over my eyes, blinding my judgment. Whatever I knew, it wasn't enough. You should always know the facts before entering a new job, especially if it sounds too good to be true. Of course, I found this out the hard way. I went in for the interview, and there were a lot of people there. I remember thinking how I was not going to get this job. Almost everyone else looked so professional, wearing suits and ties. And me, I was wearing a casual button up shirt and khakis. I definitely thought I was not going to get this job. I was asked to wait, in order for other people who were late to show up. I remember in this room, there were medieval swords and daggers hanging on the wall, and the people who worked there were rather artificial. They were sharp and shiny, and a little too happy, not unlike what I soon found I would be selling. Anyway, it turned out the interview was actually a three-step process: group interview, smaller group interview and finally a single interview. This process would take place over a few hours. And they were long hours. In the first interview, we all found out what we would actually be doing. "The company" is a marketing corporation that sells a product specializing in kitchen knives. We were going to sell knives. I didn't think that was so bad; the pay and hours made up for it. We moved on to talk about our pay, which was an either/or system. For each sales appointment, we were guaranteed to make $12 (first hint to get out now; not an hourly system), but if we sold enough product so that our commissions were larger than our minimums, we would receive that. If our minimum was more, we would receive that. This did not sound bad in theory either. This was a good system, since we would be making some money, whether we sold something or not. Next, the three supervisors picked some people who were not going to make it to the next "round."
I remember in this room, there were medieval swords and daggers hanging on the wall, and the people who worked there were rather artificial. They were sharp and shiny, and a little too happy, not unlike what I soon found I would be selling. Anyway, it turned out the interview was actually a three-step process: group interview, smaller group interview and finally a single interview. This process would take place over a few hours. And they were long hours. In the first interview, we all found out what we would actually be doing. "The company" is a marketing corporation that sells a product specializing in kitchen knives. We were going to sell knives. I didn't think that was so bad; the pay and hours made up for it. We moved on to talk about our pay, which was an either/or system. For each sales appointment, we were guaranteed to make $12 (first hint to get out now; not an hourly system), but if we sold enough product so that our commissions were larger than our minimums, we would receive that. If our minimum was more, we would receive that. This did not sound bad in theory either. This was a good system, since we would be making some money, whether we sold something or not. Next, the three supervisors picked some people who were not going to make it to the next "round." For the next interview, they put us into smaller groups, and they would call each group into the assistant manager's office. He asked us some questions. What do you like? What were some of your extracurricular activities? He then sent us out of the office, where we would have to wait even longer for our one-on-one meetings. Finally, I got called in. The moment I walked in, he didn't look extremely pleased. He had this troubled look on his face. We started talking, and then he got this big, goofy grin on his face and said, "You got the job." My heart started to pump again. I let out a sigh of relief; he tried to pull a fakeout on me. We shook hands, and he told me to be there Saturday for the first day of training. There would be a regional meeting that would last all day. (Second hint: there would be three days of training, and a regional meeting, both of which we wouldn't get paid for.) When I arrived for training, I learned that the first two days would be about six hours, and the third day would be about seven hours. Nineteen hours? And I wasn't going to get paid for this? I tried not to think about it. I focused on their tips for making a sale. They even brought out product samples for a demonstration. I have to admit they are actually very good-quality knives. The next day, we focused on how to talk on the phone and set up an appointment. The last day was review, and how to ask customers for references. The way we made appointments was by asking our customers for the names and numbers of some friends who might be interested in the product. It was not a door-to-door job, even though we had to go to customers' houses to make presentations. Finally, I had completed my training and was about to start work. My first day was great; I sold more than $1,000 worth of product in just two appointments. In the business, this was called a "Grand Day." I even got a special pin. A couple of days later, I was anxious for my first paycheck. After, the Grand Day, I had even more sales. I ripped open the envelope, waiting to see that $1,000-plus check. "Thirty-two dollars and fifty-six cents" (or some nonsensical figure). There wasn't even a pay stub to show where my earnings and taxes and things like that went. The next day, I went straight to the boss' office to discuss this unpleasant incident. She explained that commission worked off however much money you brought in at that time. For example, if someone decided to pay through a payment plan (which most of my customers did), I would receive a percentage of the amount paid at present. For some reason that made sense to me, and I thought about how my next check would surely be larger than last time. It had to be. I had finished my initial list of demonstrations, and it was time to start calling my references. The first time you call, they want you to be at the office and stay until you reach at least four. A lot of people were not home, or just not answering their phones. I remember one particular reference who wouldn't answer the phone. I tried twice, and my supervisor told me to "Keep on tryin'!" in his stupid, goofy voice. So I tried one more time, and they actually picked up. Only, when I started talking to her, it wasn't the conversation I had hoped for. The woman proceeded to nag at me for what seemed like forever. She asked, "Are you the one who's been calling the past half hour? We are trying to relax outside!" It took all my strength not to scream at her. If you don't want the phone to ring, pick it up. Or at least take it off the hook. It does not take rocket science to figure that out. I endured the rest of the phone calls, and I decided the only way to get out of there was to lie. I told my boss I got all four. I got out of there as fast as I could. My next couple of demonstrations did not go as well as my first ones. Either the people lived far away, and I would have to take the bus for long distances, or they were not intrigued at all by this "fabulous product" and just wasted my time. It was bringing down my morale, and my sales. It didn't matter though, I had plenty of good sales before, and I was about to get my next check. And I was right, it was definitely bigger, a whole $20 bigger. Whoo-hoo! I was a rich man! After little contemplation, I decided this job was a pain, and completely not worth it. I hate it when my mom's right. I had to talk to the boss, tell her I was going to quit. She said that was not a problem, but she tried to convince me to stay. My mind was made up. I was finally free. I was so happy. Of course, it was not really the end, that was way too easy, and part of me knew it, but I was too happy to worry. The next week, I received a letter in the mail. It clearly wasn't a paycheck, which they still owed me a few of. I opened it, and it was a letter of apology; they had to let me go. Another thing I should have mentioned was that when I started this job, I was not 18. Something they never bothered to ask me when I was in the interview. Although I clearly wrote my date of birth on my background information sheet, they should have realized I wasn't 18 right then and there. The manipulative boss even went so far as to say she asked me herself if I was 18. It was funny; I didn't remember this delusional episode she had. Oh yes, it's because it only happened in her head. I could go on and on about this experience. There is much more to tell. And much that is irrelevant, but I will conclude with a little advice. If something sounds too good to be true, it probably is. Always make sure you know the whole deal before you agree to something. © 2003 Shoreline Community College™ |
