The interview went well. The recruiter called and offered me the job as I walked out the door. I start tomorrow. There’s something about sitting through hours of orientation material and HR policy that gets my heart pumping. Jokes aside, I’m excited about uncapped commission.
My last job advertised the same thing. There was one guy out of sixty who truthfully made over six figures. Everyone else was scraping by- like me. Making seventy cold calls a day drives any person to drink. I’m relieved that another lady named Phyllis will never hang up on me again. You think you’re better than me because you’ve worked at the same lumber yard for thirty years? Ugh. Inside sales is for the birds. I think I’ll stop by O’Malley’s for a celebratory drink. I should tell Martin that I’m starting a new gig tomorrow.
I cozied up at the bar. My buddy, Martin, already had a glass of my favorite Chardonnay poured. It floated in its seamless glass vessel. The bite and release of the first sip smoothed out the edges of my frayed mind. “It’s hard work interviewing! But I got the job!” I grinned.
“I hear ya” he said nonchalantly, shining a glass with an old rag.
“Mhmm” I nodded my head and sipped again. The repetition of lift, sip, smile continued until I woke up to my phone ringing. My brain had a pulse of its own. I saw a half-eaten bowl of mac and cheese, and my purse strewn across the floor. My phone shook angrily like a dozen bees from under my interview blazer.
“Hello?”
“Hi Stephanie! It’s Jean from Recruitzya.com. Yeah, you didn’t show up for your first day, so no need to come in tomorrow either. Sorry! Bye!” Click.
It was 9:37AM. Maybe O’Malley’s is hiring.
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