Being naive and optimistic I had thought to myself, “Right, I have two degrees. I have experience in a variety of things. It’ll be easy for me to get a job outside the city where there is less competition.”
Well, I was a fool.
Off to the job centre I went. I attempted to sign on. They refused me benefits due to ‘not having paid enough into my national insurance’. Bullshit if you ask. They saw my partner was a doctor, albeit one at the bottom of the proverbial career letter. And decided for me that I was to be dependant upon him. Thanks UK.
To continue. I was/am massively in debt, couldn’t sign on, and of course, jobless.
Finding a job was a terrible struggle. I was applying to entry level jobs, gradually bringing down my salary expectations and general attitude. I was applying to jobs every day, constantly. The pressure started to get to us. Patrick couldn’t afford to support me on his salary alone. I was soon to be repaying my MA loan. I had never been so dependant in my adult life.
It’s safe to say I was not in a good place.
Then I apply to a booksellers (let’s call it Firerocks) as a Christmas Temp. (after vowing never to go back into retail, I succumbed) Christmas comes and goes at the speed of a man with his balls on fire, as it always does, and good ol’ Firerocks decides to keep me. I love this job and I still have it. I get to buy more books than I can ever possibly read! And if I got more than minimum wage, I would probably stay in there forever.
However, one could not survive on 8 hours of £6.51 an hour alone. I had to get job number two.
Now job number two was a difficult one. I had contacted this particular place of employment during the summer of ’14. Our emails had gone back and forth for four months when finally they asked me to come in for a chat in early January ’15. Yes, all good. Goes well. I’m offered a job. I am to start at the local paper on February 2.
This comes and goes. I am not there. They cannot ‘afford me’. Another month passes. They email again: ‘Sorry to have messed you around, Louise but we’re going through some changes.’
As you can imagine, this whole charade is getting a little old now and I’m a bit fed up. I agree to see them anyway, because, let’s face it, I’m desperate.
In the meantime however, I’ve bagged an interview in Southampton. The advertisement stated as follows:
Marketing Events Assistant
Graduates Welcome; No Experience Needed
Entry Level Opening with Advancement Potential
Immediate Start Available
And I think, “Ooer. I could probably almost get that.”
So ensues the worst interview process of my life.
Considering I had no idea what the job entails, I travel down to Southampton and go through the first round. It’s a quick-fire process. I’m in and out in about 20 minutes. We talk of general things, what I’ve studied, my experience etc. And so I’m invited to the next round the following day. Still not knowing what the company does.
I arrive and am immediately kidnapped. Without telling me where we are going, or what we are doing, or why I’m even coming along, I am told that I have to follow this woman (named Emma – early 20’s drama grad). I do. My desperation for money speaks for itself.
I am driven to an unknown location (later I find to be Portsmouth) in the middle of an industrial estate with Emma and her team of two other girls. I am taken to a cafe inside the general store, and told to wait. I do. Please understand I really have no chance of escape, no buses or trains, I don’t even know where I am.
Once an hour Emma comes to give me three questions and leaves while I answer them in a notebook. When she comes back, she checks my answers. These are menial questions. Average interview stuff. Nothing interesting. And so I spend the majority of the day reading my book and reflecting on this bizarre situation.
As the day goes on I get more and more irate. I’m utterly shocked at how I’ve been treated, and the more questions I ask about the company the more I realise that this is in fact a pyramid company. They sell humans to do sales for bigger companies who don’t like to do the ‘nitty-gritty’ as they called it. Standing around in shopping centres and selling stuff no one wants to buy.
Their whole idea was that they could progress you quickly so as you could go off and own your ‘own’ business. This of course was a franchise. What really took the biscuit was that they couldn’t even remember who the father company was, or who started the scheme. This sent alarm bells ringing.
This was not a Events Marketing role as I was led to believe. But a sales role for the unintelligent.
Having spent 9 hours in this strange situation, I then was returned to the office to have a final interview. And, not being one to hold back, I asked the ‘owner’ why my day had been spent thus. He then went very ego on me and said:
“I started this company after just a year in the system. I’d always set out to make more money than my father [taps away on calculator] now look how much I make. I started off as a gym instructor now look at me and what I have built. Look at what I won [shows me his Facebook page] This is my car. Yeah? Look at my watch and my cufflinks. This isn’t cheap. This is what you could have made of yourself.”
And I replied, “Money is not enough of a motivation for me, as happiness and self-respect is.”
Perhaps I’m a snob, but in my opinion, a job that kidnaps you as way of interview, that refuses to tell you what they do until you have you safely kidnapped, and neglects you, wasting your time, is not worth it. Companies that shine bright the quickest burn the fastest.
In fact, to save others, the name of this particular branch of the unknown pyramid company is Phoenix Premier Acquisitions.
Be aware.
Two days later Firerocks gives me a 4-day week contract.
A month later I start working two days a week at the local paper (let us call it Hill News).
I’m currently working 6-day weeks. And Am exhausted. I still don’t really have any money, but now I have enough for a little independence and the odd tall latte from Moondoe*
*Names altered accordingly.
Girl Out The City 