In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Plead the Fifth.”
Below is a pseudo-transcript of my informal interview with Philip, the old biker dude.
Philip: So, I’m shifting the topic away from Mike. Tell me about yourself. What do you think about this company? Do you like it here? Do you live far from here?
Moi: Fuck. I wasn’t prepared. Idiot. Duh. I cast my eyes downwards and averted my gaze away from him being that I wasn’t comfortable revealing myself too much on national security issues, of course. Hehe!
I like how they help disabled adults who have problems. I travel one hour to get here. I drive a Ford Mustang, you know, a fast car, driven by fast guys (like you and you’re Z530 whatever), and just as fast as my working speed.
Philip: What’s the nearest cross street? (He asked three times and motioned the timeout cross with his palms because my hearing failed me again). That’s my area! I live off Blossom Hill Road and I can get here within 20-25 minutes. I like the drive. It beats getting stuck in traffic.
Moi: I get on southbound HWY 101 off 13th Street, my hood, my neighborhood. There’s a Carl’s Jr nearby and a barbeque snack. Cal Coast Telecom is nearby.
(They did my requested CCTV cameras in an around my hood for the upcoming VTA/BART system, which was also my requested idea. I had to inform my local council member then via email and got a phone call and email response.)
I cut over from Commercial Street and can get here in thirty minutes if I punch it at 80 miles per hour or in one hour if I travel the Speed Limit of 65 mph. I like the reverse commute. In one temp job, I’m almost always late. It was located only five minutes away but takes me thirty minutes to get there!
Philip: We are considering converting you to permanent. There may be a supervisory position in AR with Kevin being cross-trained into payroll and Paulann reporting as AP supervisor to Jackie as AR manager when she returns from maternity leave.
Moi: All this time I’ve been a follower of my mentors, guides, teachers. I never was a leader and always had been pigeon-holed into one task, which was mainly keying in the cash receipts from the lockbox reports. I never had ANY direct customer service contact and was bored with this one task for many years in a large semi-conductor company.
But here at NCM, I was able to perform multiple tasks, such as emailing invoices and credit memos, stuffing envelopes of paper invoices, answering office calls like a switchboard operator. I don’t mind owning the cash receipt process. I actually like the ripping noise of opening live checks, by the way.
This temp job is the worse because I’m doing too much for little pay. I’d like to earn as much as what AP is cutting a check back to my temp agency/job placement at $24 per hour. (Folks, that’s how much I earned in that large semi-conductor company over ten years ago.)
Philip: I don’t think there’s a supervisory position for that pay rate. But you need to think about what you want do in the next six weeks.
Moi: I’m truly sorry if I was being loud while cross-training Mike whose personality I like or if I’m NOT making sense at all and rattling on and on without listening well to instructions.
Philip: You’re a soft bird. Beauty before brains. I could recommend you to Madam Cherie. But she hasn’t made up her mind about how she’d like to restructure the finance department.
—
I learned that he is a logistics and strategist with a broad range of knowledge and expertise. He took a severe cut in pay since his crash in 2009 and had been looking for full-time permanent employment, too.
To TPTB and pals: I’d recommend him. He’s got spunk. I really like him, period. I’d give this reptilian what he wants, deserves, and more.
I think he is both a genius and a spook based on my personal observation, despite his frustrated fits and loudness near me, which is a trigger to me to consider NOT taking the position.
I sensed I could have simply called my head hunter, Jonathan C, and let him know that I’m not fit for this position. And that’s probably because I’m already bored. It’s not fun anymore. The novelty of working full-time already wore off and the feeling is cold, calculating, and callousness.
I was saddened to tears at my desk afterwards because I was painfully disappointed and severely tired at this point in my life and pitifully vindictive at the creators’ design of working hard to get anywhere for survival. I wasn’t amused or fulfilled. I hate them all.
I wasn’t motivated to earn money because of not just losing my retirement funds but realized that even crazy/stupid can get the help without trying or working! I didn’t care for the rate.
I didn’t want to be overwhelmed with stress and prefer temping over being permanent because I don’t like staff meetings and dealing with stupid/crazy people, period.
Am I being selfish? Bah! I’m already desensitized by the trauma as a noobish shaman, of all sorts, because I didn’t flinch whenever he’d try to trigger my emotional response.
For example, he got excitedly loud and clapped his hands together. But I just sat there patiently waiting for him to diffuse his energetic signature.
I’ve learned slowly how to detach myself from such situations as I continue to boost this vector, my sector. We make our own realities.
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