Sunday, 13 January 2008



Unemployed and skint?
Getting too much appreciation?
Desire powdered milk?
Office temp, office temp!

Be overqualified, uneducated, uninspiring, thankless, jobless, strange, slow, in-between two things, committed to something important or committed to nothing. The thing is, if you don’t become this, you’ll realise everyone around you has, and that doesn’t keep you warm when one of the strange ones opens all the windows because he’s a bit sweaty, in January, at the cold storage warehouse, just after he bought us all ice creams, with flakes.

Generally when you go to a job agency they exhibit a rather simplistic rage of feelings exchanged between hapless dole scum and tormented recruitment consultant. Usually when you walk into a job agency you are greeted with Type 1 recruitment consultant. “Hiiiiiii, well if you just take a seat Debbie will love to help you, well done thank you, I’m sure we can find some work for you, this will be perfect for you, ohh that’s an interesting course, great I’ll give you a ring today, bye x x bye.

I never got used to this type. It stems from being forced to continually smile when serving fat fucking idiots their whopper meals and knowing that disingenuous “enjoy your meal” will come back to torment me, I have deep scars.

The easiest to take is Type 2 that of contemptuous derogatory. This, as it implies consists of brutal insinuations about abilities and formalities while treating you like you’ve not walked beyond your own street alone and you can’t comprehend what office wear is.

The great thing is no lies, all-negative, well maybe some lies, but in fairness it’s comfortable, reassuring and predominately fucking useless.

Generally an office worker’s core abilities if wrote would read like an under educated wrote computer game manual: Continually press enter while keeping your eye out for any errors, delete errors, advance to final screen, collect bonus codes to boost personal goal score, test question, answer ‘completed level 1’, use left and right direction keys avoiding any red urgents, open up Coralmax, go into your Coralmax, find the box, open the box, get the key give the key to Maureen and end.

Day to day
Expect to be treated with largely the same unjustified contempt as cleaners. Essentially shiting and pissing over anything you’ve cleaned off just to show their amount of knowledge over your own badly trained largely self taught incite into the world of crate management. You will soon realise despite doing the same job, a permenent worker receives many more perks than oneself. It’ll start small and end up in infuriating regularity. Getting as petty as you have to paying for coffee while permanents guzzle free to being denied bonuses, days off, staff parties your not invited to, cards to use the lifts so as to further separate your role you have to endure the daily embarrassment of not being trusted with a piece of plastic and have to ring the bell and wait for someone who does the same job to eventually, begrudgingly let you in.

Expect your friendly recruitment consultant to pop in to check your not fucking up and negotiate a higher cut off your wage, until they get bored of even making the trip and in many instances when you ring up to check you’ve been paid, patently forget who the hell you are.

As a rule, agencies take great lengths to put you in a place the furthermost reaches from your house, that you can only reach on a: 4:30am alarm, a 20 min hard shoulder bike ride and two filthy crammed buses. You will be tired, and in a strange area where there are no shops other than a butty van containing two, loud, fat, mole-ridden mothers offering only fried and dripping things. Subsequently you will also feel alone. You will wonder just why you’re there, believing that the absurd mundanity of your job implies that this is all just an elaborate non sensicle role set up by your mum for a new show on ITV 7 called What a Twat, sorry What a Desperate Twat.

Don’t expect to get a weeks notice, a day if your lucky. Often they can’t even waste their breath on you, and send a group email ten minutes before you leave decreeing your departure.

Oh and your friends, you know those people taking a cut of your wages and not filling out your tax forms so it seems some weeks you were better off on benefits, yes your agency staff who tell you that if you want to keep the job and get anymore work with them you have to do weekends, yes whose saints, when you finish your position have seemingly gone to heaven and been replaced by strangers who don’t know who you are, haven’t got any work for you, and couldn’t give a shit what jobs they promised they’d give you when your job finished. Yes them, they do send Christmas cards.

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