pt. 7: stuffed deer, kristen wiig, and boyfriend shirts (with a little riggins thrown in)
We have come to the final chapter of my job journey. Thank you to those of you who have stuck around long enough for it's conclusion.
For those of you wanting to hear about my current job, I'm sorry. That is top secret. I have a badge and I answer to the name of Smith in the library. That's really all I can say.
Instead, let me tell you what it's like to look for a job at age 45 after a 17-year-hiatus from the working world. First, you start with the insane idea that you are suited for retail. In my mind, I put together a list of places I would want clothes or items from. I imagine myself running a store, dressing mannequins. I go to a job fair in Kyle and speak with some nice people from Cabela's.
NorthFace jackets, stuffed deer, lots of ammo. Sounded good to me. I applied online and got called in to a mass hiring event for the holidays. I deliberated over what to wear, but went with a khaki skirt. When I got there, they ushered me into a room full of people filling out applications on clipboards. Even though we had filled out a 10-page application online, they were making everyone fill out one again.
First warning sign.
I got called in for an interview and spoke with a man and a woman. The man conducted the interview and asked me questions having to do with different job scenarios that would require troubleshooting. I made up all kinds of answers, trying not to laugh at some of them. About halfway through, he stopped me and said, "You remind me of that girl in Bridesmaids."
"Melissa McCarthy?" I ask, feeling a little wary.
"No - the other one," he says. He turns to his co-worker. "Do you know who I mean? The crazy one."
"I can't believe you are saying this," says his co-worker.
"Kristen Wiig?" I ask.
"Yes! Okay, now let's continue."
I walked out of there pretty sure I didn't want to work there and pretty sure they wouldn't call.
I went home, threw on some jeans, a navy sweater and red ballet flats - this is important - and went to the Gap next to Central Market. I was intending to do some therapy shopping, and as I checked out with a new dress, I saw a sign that they were hiring.
Warning: if you are forty-five, even in relatively good shape, do not take a job at the Gap. Not even for the employee discount.
Let me sum up my 3 months there:
Cleaned store bathroom at least 50 times, early in the morning.
Vacuumed and dusted entire store at least 40 times, also early in the morning.
One overnight Thanksgiving shift.
Countless times climbing the shelves in the storeroom looking for skinny jeans.
Countless times wrestling nude mannequins for sweaters customer wants.
Abuse from several angry customers demanding for someone else to ring them up. (In my defense, I was not trained to use the cash register.)
Listening to lots of "adult talk" from my co-workers. I'll just leave it at that.
And on the bright side, the following items were purchased with my employee discount:
A beautiful anorak coat
Two pairs of skinny jeans, one blue velvet
Bootcut corduroys
Many tees and boyfriend shirts
Coats for the entire family
Amount of money I made: zip. Amount of clothing I amassed for family: an even trade.
After my "retirement" from the Gap, I pursued temp jobs (read: did not work) and carefully applied to jobs I would like to have. But mostly I watched all five seasons of "Friday Night Lights" and ate too much bread.
I had this idea I would like to work at a library and so I applied. And I kid you not, as soon as I watched the final episode of FNL, season five, the phone rang. Would I like to come in for an interview tomorrow? Yes, I would. Riggins, I must say goodbye, for now.
Two and a half years later, I can happily say I'm happily employed.
Do I still want to win an Oscar wearing a caftan after playing the part of Bradley Cooper's senior love interest in a role I wrote for myself? Well, yes. I will still work towards that goal.
Is my main job still raising boys? I think the saying goes "So...there's this boy who stole my heart... he calls me mom." As long as they need me, I will be staying up late doing their laundry so they can study, making them cowboy cookies, and finding their headphones over and over. I will be their counselor when they need it, and take them to a real counselor when they need that. I will pray my heart out for them and text them verses that will encourage them. I will tell them over and over I am proud of them. I will do whatever I can to help them be their best selves so they are ready to take on the world when they do leave home.
It's the job I absolutely love and I'll never get a raise for. Maybe someday someone will buy me a cream colored BMW 435i convertible, but for now I will just take big hugs and a whole lot of love.
For those of you wanting to hear about my current job, I'm sorry. That is top secret. I have a badge and I answer to the name of Smith in the library. That's really all I can say.
Instead, let me tell you what it's like to look for a job at age 45 after a 17-year-hiatus from the working world. First, you start with the insane idea that you are suited for retail. In my mind, I put together a list of places I would want clothes or items from. I imagine myself running a store, dressing mannequins. I go to a job fair in Kyle and speak with some nice people from Cabela's.
NorthFace jackets, stuffed deer, lots of ammo. Sounded good to me. I applied online and got called in to a mass hiring event for the holidays. I deliberated over what to wear, but went with a khaki skirt. When I got there, they ushered me into a room full of people filling out applications on clipboards. Even though we had filled out a 10-page application online, they were making everyone fill out one again.
First warning sign.
I got called in for an interview and spoke with a man and a woman. The man conducted the interview and asked me questions having to do with different job scenarios that would require troubleshooting. I made up all kinds of answers, trying not to laugh at some of them. About halfway through, he stopped me and said, "You remind me of that girl in Bridesmaids."
"Melissa McCarthy?" I ask, feeling a little wary.
"No - the other one," he says. He turns to his co-worker. "Do you know who I mean? The crazy one."
"I can't believe you are saying this," says his co-worker.
"Kristen Wiig?" I ask.
"Yes! Okay, now let's continue."
I walked out of there pretty sure I didn't want to work there and pretty sure they wouldn't call.
I went home, threw on some jeans, a navy sweater and red ballet flats - this is important - and went to the Gap next to Central Market. I was intending to do some therapy shopping, and as I checked out with a new dress, I saw a sign that they were hiring.
Warning: if you are forty-five, even in relatively good shape, do not take a job at the Gap. Not even for the employee discount.
Let me sum up my 3 months there:
Cleaned store bathroom at least 50 times, early in the morning.
Vacuumed and dusted entire store at least 40 times, also early in the morning.
One overnight Thanksgiving shift.
Countless times climbing the shelves in the storeroom looking for skinny jeans.
Countless times wrestling nude mannequins for sweaters customer wants.
Abuse from several angry customers demanding for someone else to ring them up. (In my defense, I was not trained to use the cash register.)
Listening to lots of "adult talk" from my co-workers. I'll just leave it at that.
And on the bright side, the following items were purchased with my employee discount:
A beautiful anorak coat
Two pairs of skinny jeans, one blue velvet
Bootcut corduroys
Many tees and boyfriend shirts
Coats for the entire family
Amount of money I made: zip. Amount of clothing I amassed for family: an even trade.
After my "retirement" from the Gap, I pursued temp jobs (read: did not work) and carefully applied to jobs I would like to have. But mostly I watched all five seasons of "Friday Night Lights" and ate too much bread.
I had this idea I would like to work at a library and so I applied. And I kid you not, as soon as I watched the final episode of FNL, season five, the phone rang. Would I like to come in for an interview tomorrow? Yes, I would. Riggins, I must say goodbye, for now.
Two and a half years later, I can happily say I'm happily employed.
Do I still want to win an Oscar wearing a caftan after playing the part of Bradley Cooper's senior love interest in a role I wrote for myself? Well, yes. I will still work towards that goal.
Is my main job still raising boys? I think the saying goes "So...there's this boy who stole my heart... he calls me mom." As long as they need me, I will be staying up late doing their laundry so they can study, making them cowboy cookies, and finding their headphones over and over. I will be their counselor when they need it, and take them to a real counselor when they need that. I will pray my heart out for them and text them verses that will encourage them. I will tell them over and over I am proud of them. I will do whatever I can to help them be their best selves so they are ready to take on the world when they do leave home.
It's the job I absolutely love and I'll never get a raise for. Maybe someday someone will buy me a cream colored BMW 435i convertible, but for now I will just take big hugs and a whole lot of love.