Day 3 sounds like it’s going to test my resolve when she rings on the drive home from Day 2 to ask me if I’m available at 7 a.m. and I know I have a deadline that same day with a client who actually keeps his deadlines. I’m self-employed and telling myself that this gig is just a temporary thing for the holidays, not a major career change. Why not? I say out loud and she tells me where to be and when and hangs up. I’m curious about a number of things at this point but just go with the flow. So does everyone else. The day turns out to be easy. Everyone shows up, gets their assignments by zip code, finds a uniform that isn’t too ill fitting and we watch some training/safety videos in-between. Three of us are asked outside and never return. Only 85259 and I seem to be curious about things like where we clock in and how we get paid. Our curiosity creates a bond, along with our neighboring zip codes. We are told that we are highly desirable and will most likely be called the next day if not that very afternoon. We exchange victorious glances.
By Day 4 I’m only slightly saddened that I haven’t gotten a call. It’s the day before Thanksgiving. My deadline has been met and the invoice sent. I spend the rest of the day pressing my new uniform and waiting by the phone so long I begin to feel like a jilted lover. Why hasn’t he called? Should I call him? Or would that be too presumptuous? The woman who was supposed to give us all the finer details and a test to make sure we were paying attention during the safety portions of the orientation has only been hired two weeks before and “Sorry, guys. I just don’t have the time to tell you anything right now.” We’ll call you. Don’t call us. 85259 and I are floored. We are shuttled out the door and the next group of 30 is ushered in. I won’t compare us to cattle but we did have to stay inside the yellow lines for our safety.
Day 5 is the day after Thanksgiving – a notoriously busy day for deliveries. I wake up at 5 a.m. to do my yoga, eat, shower and check work e-mail before I get geared up. I sweep back every hair into a bun so tight a ballerina couldn’t leap, bend or spin a wisp loose. And I wait. No call. I’m kind of glad because I can work on my next publication and get ahead for what is sure to be a very busy month leading up to Christmas. My head hurts and my eyes are slanty.
Holidays and weekends off. Woohoo!
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You are too kind, Madalene. Thank you for expressing your thoughts and taking the time to comment. I just tell it as it happens! (Mostly.)
– Miss Chievous Grin
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