(no subject)
“G’Day day mate! What’s the crack?” is now apart of the Australian language well its what it feels like anyway¡¦
Well there hasn’t been a ‘sensible’ update lately so I think I should fill in some of the gaps especially after the last update!
Well lets fly back in time to about a month ago and as you all should know, as you all have been avidly reading my LJ, I was working for the department of planning and industry doing well some relatively boring but well paid work. It was a big decision but I quit that to become a door to door sales man. Yes you did read that correctly. No you haven’t bee staring at the monitor for so long your world is now been seen though blurry vision. Yes, yes, yes I know sometimes the world may seem better when viewed slightly blurry but the truth is I did it! Door to door was the name and sim cards were the game. Problem is I don’t really have any stories to tell about it. My thoughts going into the job were ‘expect a lot of abuse’ but that wasn’t a problem because I used to hang about with you lot and also the amount of verbal abuse I used to get from working on the phones for a certain telecommunications company. I had no abuse at all a lot of very abrupt people but not rude. The only real problem with the job was that when it got dark I was wondering around dodgy suburbs and some of the houses were lets say not well kept and walking into an open porch and getting your face covered in a think spiders web is a very very panicky scary moment!
So door to door wasn’t for me because I couldn’t sell enough to actually keep me alive so I though telemarketing was. Yes I know, living the high life or what!?!? Backpacking, mixing with other cultures, seeing the wonders of the world and experience of a life time doing the jobs that only the most desperate and uncaring people will do. I only need to add cum mopper and traffic warden to my list and ill have it sorted!
Wow! People out there really do like telemarketers don’t they! I am sorry but when do you think the best time to call is? Huh? Is it 9am when your going to work¡¦ no. Is it 1 pm when your out to lunch¡¦ no. Is it 330pm when you’ve got to go pick up the kids from school¡¦ no. Is it between 6-8pm when you’ve just had a day at work, rushed around lunch time, rushed out to pick up the kids and now your sitting at home in front of the TV with your dinner and a beer relaxing at the end of a long day knowing that you’ve got to do it all again tomorrow... yes! So why the hell are you so bloody angry when you answer the phone! What, you don’t want to sell your house! Why the hell not?!?! I don’t know some people!
So telemarketing wasn’t for me. I could do the job and I think id do it again some time. It wasn’t the work that put me off it was the bad wages and the working environment. My manager was this patronizing, short, fat balding, bearded, wanker and the sort of person that given a little power thought that he could rule the office with an iron fist. He was the sort of person you wished harm on. The sort of person that you would want to push down the unforgiving concrete steps that were outside of the office.
Since then I have been filling in with the odd bit of office work and glass collecting in one of the local Irish pubs. There are just HUGE benefits to working in a bar/club type place. Like when all is done at the end of the night helping your self to everything and anything from behind the bar until 7am! As you can imagine, I eat a lot of crisps that night¡¦
As for some real news (not that any of this is lies mind you!) I am finally leaving Perth. Woot! Woot! 17th July 2006 Ill be heading North to Broome and then on to Darwin doing all the touristy/backpacker things on the way. Drink driving (its a desert no police for an area the size of Wales), smashing into kangaroos, poking snakes with sticks and running away (let the fat ones get eaten), driving 120km per hour into flocks of galahs and seeing how big a lizard we can run over with out damaging the camper van which all sounds great fun to me!
An Englishman, an Irishman (2 women actually), a Welshman, an Ozzie and a Frenchman not a bad mix (it has been suggested that we need a rabbi and a priest also but we certainly don’t need a Scotsman, have you smelt them?). I think the Frenchman is going to be the punch bag, well he will be if I have anything to do with it! The six of us cramming into a three sleeper van so I think I am going to get to know these people quite well over the 3 weeks (wonder who I can kill with my farting first)!
And I am spent…
Well there hasn’t been a ‘sensible’ update lately so I think I should fill in some of the gaps especially after the last update!
Well lets fly back in time to about a month ago and as you all should know, as you all have been avidly reading my LJ, I was working for the department of planning and industry doing well some relatively boring but well paid work. It was a big decision but I quit that to become a door to door sales man. Yes you did read that correctly. No you haven’t bee staring at the monitor for so long your world is now been seen though blurry vision. Yes, yes, yes I know sometimes the world may seem better when viewed slightly blurry but the truth is I did it! Door to door was the name and sim cards were the game. Problem is I don’t really have any stories to tell about it. My thoughts going into the job were ‘expect a lot of abuse’ but that wasn’t a problem because I used to hang about with you lot and also the amount of verbal abuse I used to get from working on the phones for a certain telecommunications company. I had no abuse at all a lot of very abrupt people but not rude. The only real problem with the job was that when it got dark I was wondering around dodgy suburbs and some of the houses were lets say not well kept and walking into an open porch and getting your face covered in a think spiders web is a very very panicky scary moment!
So door to door wasn’t for me because I couldn’t sell enough to actually keep me alive so I though telemarketing was. Yes I know, living the high life or what!?!? Backpacking, mixing with other cultures, seeing the wonders of the world and experience of a life time doing the jobs that only the most desperate and uncaring people will do. I only need to add cum mopper and traffic warden to my list and ill have it sorted!
Wow! People out there really do like telemarketers don’t they! I am sorry but when do you think the best time to call is? Huh? Is it 9am when your going to work¡¦ no. Is it 1 pm when your out to lunch¡¦ no. Is it 330pm when you’ve got to go pick up the kids from school¡¦ no. Is it between 6-8pm when you’ve just had a day at work, rushed around lunch time, rushed out to pick up the kids and now your sitting at home in front of the TV with your dinner and a beer relaxing at the end of a long day knowing that you’ve got to do it all again tomorrow... yes! So why the hell are you so bloody angry when you answer the phone! What, you don’t want to sell your house! Why the hell not?!?! I don’t know some people!
So telemarketing wasn’t for me. I could do the job and I think id do it again some time. It wasn’t the work that put me off it was the bad wages and the working environment. My manager was this patronizing, short, fat balding, bearded, wanker and the sort of person that given a little power thought that he could rule the office with an iron fist. He was the sort of person you wished harm on. The sort of person that you would want to push down the unforgiving concrete steps that were outside of the office.
Since then I have been filling in with the odd bit of office work and glass collecting in one of the local Irish pubs. There are just HUGE benefits to working in a bar/club type place. Like when all is done at the end of the night helping your self to everything and anything from behind the bar until 7am! As you can imagine, I eat a lot of crisps that night¡¦
As for some real news (not that any of this is lies mind you!) I am finally leaving Perth. Woot! Woot! 17th July 2006 Ill be heading North to Broome and then on to Darwin doing all the touristy/backpacker things on the way. Drink driving (its a desert no police for an area the size of Wales), smashing into kangaroos, poking snakes with sticks and running away (let the fat ones get eaten), driving 120km per hour into flocks of galahs and seeing how big a lizard we can run over with out damaging the camper van which all sounds great fun to me!
An Englishman, an Irishman (2 women actually), a Welshman, an Ozzie and a Frenchman not a bad mix (it has been suggested that we need a rabbi and a priest also but we certainly don’t need a Scotsman, have you smelt them?). I think the Frenchman is going to be the punch bag, well he will be if I have anything to do with it! The six of us cramming into a three sleeper van so I think I am going to get to know these people quite well over the 3 weeks (wonder who I can kill with my farting first)!
And I am spent…