Uninspired
I recently gave up my job at the bottleshop in favour of a higher paying alternative, which should more adequately keep me in various recreational drugs to while away my perennial student days. I've taken the position of a casual Customer Service Representative (a branch teller to those not versed in wanky corporatese) at a large retail bank. Currently I'm training at a branch with a mentor standing over me at all times. I have to say it's quite mindboggling how many procedures and various other crap I'm supposed to memorise during the four days with my mentor. After that, the bank - in its infinite wisdom - throws me into a branch on my lonesome and I have to flounder about until I get it down pat. Scary. Anyway, been a bit of a brain strain, what with the steep learning curve, and I have been thinking even less about the ways of the world than I normally do. My posting is consequently going to sink to a lower grade (plumb those depths!) than my five readers are currently used to. Lap it up. However, normal service should resume shortly - you'll notice when the standard is raised from blandly inoffensive to utterly barbarous.
posted by James Waterton at 12:29 am
6 Comments:
Ah, James - now you're finding out about the capitalist conspiracy. White collar jobs result in people having no time to think about anything. Such a beautifully simple approach to thought control. No revolutions, nothing to see here..... now you know why it's a pretty much perfect system.
PS - even if you forget everything else that your mentor teaches you, remember that you don't get to take home any of the left overs in a doggy bag.
Consider yourself lucky young man.
Back in the dark ages when Windows 3.1 was the height of sophistication, I started work as a cadet journalist at the age of 17.
The sum total of my formal training went like this:
Grizzled old Chief of Staff: "Who are you?"
Nora: "I'm the new cadet. It's my first day."
GOCOS: "Why did you go and do a thing like that for? Why don't you choose another career? Wouldn't you rather be a helicopter pilot?"
Nora: "Umm, no, I don't think so."
GOCOS: "Never mind then. Do you know anything about these computer things?"
Nora: (staring at a bank of greenscreen terminals) "No sir."
GOCOS: (Frustrated sigh) "Well, you just sit yourself over there." (hefts over manual) "Work your way through this and come back and see me when you've gone through the manual".
Mentor indeed ::roll eyes:: - you don't know when you've got it so good!
-- Nora
Caz - when the job becomes second nature, I'm sure I'll be able to indulge in plenty more mental masturbation.
Nora - how much damage can you do as a cadet journo?
Contrast that with an incompetent branch teller - dear sweet old grannies *DO NOT* like having their passbooks buggered up.
Somehow I knew these ravings were drug induced but didn't expect James to admit it so openly! (Clicks 'File' > 'Save Page As...')
I should have realised that self deprecating humour would be an utterly alien concept to my ideological opposites.
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