(Warning: gross details half way through post…you’re been warned!)
Well, the interview basically sucked. The position pays $10/hour before a 60 day raise and shift differentials that would almost (almost) get me up to what I was making in January 2001. I’d most likely start work at noon and work until evening and would almost undoubtedly work the whole weekend. Sooo…I don’t always want to be where I am, but I probably don’t want to be at this place, either. First, I had to fill out an application and then they sat me down for some testing (directions and a test where I had to guess the best answers for call center situations). I met some sweet ladies — in the first bunch of tests, if you didn’t pass they wouldn’t let you keep going. I started off in a room with 4 or 5 girls and by the end there were only two of us. A girl that came in after me told me that she needed this job so she could quit McDonalds and better support her two kids. I really hope she gets the job. She deserves to do better than fast food and make a good life for her children.
After all of this fun, I got to meet someone in HR (speaking of which, I could have done his job!) for an interview (Sample question “Using directions, tell me how to get to the nearest grocery store to your house”). At the end, he pushes over…da da dummmm…a chain of custody form for a drug test! Sooo, I got to see how the employees I take for drug tests are treated. God, I hope they’re not treated so badly! The biotch at L*bC*rp was so rude. And she was a low-talker so I constantly had to ask “Could you repeat that?”. I wore a suit to this interview and I didn’t go home to change before going to the collection site (in drug test lingo). Frankly, peeing in a cup is hard enough without trying to avoid ruining my one good suit, so I took the test in my skivvies. L*bC*rp Biotch told me that I had 4 minutes to get this done. After…errr…getting it done I was trying to redress so I wouldn’t have to leave the oh-so-luxurious ladies room wearing only my bra when she started screeching that I had to hurry or it would (sorry) get cold. So I throw my jacket and skirt on (using my arms to shut the jacket and my big fat hips to keep the skirt up) to hand her the test.
But NOOOOOOOOO…it isn’t that easy, of course. I had to wait for her to go through all manner of machinations (transferring the specimen, labelling the cup, etc) all the time giving me low-spoken instructions ending with “Don’t let it out of your sight! Wash your hands!” I wash my hands and turn around to put my shoes on and she says “You let it out of your sight!”
Here comes Inner Elaine, shouting (::::inhale::::) “Listen BITCHFACE C**T FROM HELL! I am TOO GOOD for this SHIT and if you make me do this again I WILL KILL YOU TWICE”
It’s a damn good thing I’m too introverted to give Inner Elaine a spin, ‘eh? Luckily, Bitchface C**t from Hell didn’t make me do it again, so I was able to spare her life twice. She was even kind enough to return my drivers license and ask me “How long you need to get dressed again?”
Ooh, here’s Inner Elaine again…”WELL, FUCK ME PURPLE Bitchface! I’m ALREADY DRESSED since I had to throw my jacket on before washing my GODDAMNED HANDS.”
Outer Elaine: “Just another minute, ma’am.” And I adjust my pantyhose (instead of just throwing the damned things away) and stalk out of there.
My current employer has 16 random drug tests per quarter and who the hell knows how many non-random tests. I sincerely apologize to each and every one of them if they’re treated half as badly. And the next time I have an interview, I’m going for the drug test in a muumuu.
‘Night y’all. Time for another hard cider (ooh, I’m such a rebel)