More Jobs that do not Appear on the Resume

Time for another dose of Vocational Errors by Your Host Mark. This one took place right around the same time as the Greenpeace incident. Don't hold me to these dates though as I have no concept of time anymore.

I was still living at home and my morning ritual included me grabbing the paper and perusing the Help Wanted section while dropping the kids off at the pool (you're welcome for that image). I came across an ad for "Motivated individuals needed for IMMEDIATE HIRE with HUGE opportunity to SUCCEED!" or something along those lines. It looks like a pyramid scheme or some shit right? Yea, I didn't know what that meant. Motivated? Fuck yea I'm motivated. I don't want to live here with the parents for much longer please. Huge opportunity to succeed? Sign me the frick up Billy. I told my parents about it and how I was going to the office in downtown Malden to meet with the hiring guy. My dad said that it didn't sound like a legitimate business but I said I should at least try it out right? My mom said nothing cuz she just wanted her $200 a month.

So with my dad shaking his head slowly at me I left to go to the interview. I got to the office space which was right on Ferry St. in this rundown building. I walked in and there was about 10 other guys there who were also responding to the ad. The first thing I noticed is that they were all wearing ties and some even had suits on. I had just a button down shirt (probably untucked) and some pants that I'd probably already worn a couple of times. I sat down amongst the other candidates and filled out the application. When my turn came to meet with the hiring guy he mentioned that he liked my relaxed style which I took as a compliment but he most likely was poking fun at me. He explained that the job was a sales position (zero experience there) in the exciting field (read: risky) of direct marketing (read: pyramid). I nodded a lot and agreed to accept the position (I later figured out that ANYONE who walked into that office and didn't immediately turn around and bail got "hired"). He told me to come back the next day for the sales meeting and then I'd meet the guy who'd be training me. "He's a big up and coming guy in this organization!" he boasted. What organization? You have a pool or morons like me who you're going to have sell shit products to less than bright people. Awesome business plan.

I'd like to point out that absolutely no red flags went off for me at all. Zero. I just thought that I need money and this guy says that he can help me get some. He's in an office and wearing a suit so he must know more than I do right? Well yea, but that's all relative. I went home and told my parents that I got hired and that I'd be going to work the next day. No response from them on that subject. Feh, what do they know anyway?

At the sales/team meeting the next day I got my first glimpse at what this guy thought my future would be. Apparently I'd be super excited all the time and say things like "YEA! GO TEAM (insert name of this guy's shitty company here...I can't remember what it was)!" I'm just not the "go team" kinda guy really. I can't muster up that kind of excitement for...well, anything. I would not classify myself as high energy or Type A. Type C perhaps. Type D even. I just want to do whatever I have to do and please leave me alone. So why not realize this and immediately leave the meeting? Well, I do like money. So with the prospect of perhaps earning some I thought that I can maybe fake the excitement part.

The meeting lasted about 45 minutes and then I met up with the guy who was going to be training me on how to go about selling the products. What products, you ask? Oh, a horrible set of 6 steak knives and a 5 piece reversible belt set (it was 3 leather belts of questionable quality which were reversible and 2 different buckles. You totally want a set don't you?). We jumped into his Caprice and made our way to a super market parking lot in Dorchester. When we got there he parked near the entrance and opened up the trunk where he had boxes and boxes of this stuff. We got out and he immediately started trying to sell knives to people who just wanted to go get some groceries. "Hey ma'am?", he called over to some lady who just pulled up. "You should check out this AMAZING DEAL!" He then would point to me as I would do an interpretation of a Price Is Right model while trying to show how fucking fantastic these steak knives were. "Excuse me sir," he would say while annoying some poor guy getting into his shitbox. "Every man needs more than one belt right? Well this is SIX BELTS IN ONE!" Which technically isn't true. It's more like six belts in one set...or 3 belts in one times 2. I guess that's not as zingy though.

Here's the bizarre thing: people would stop and buy this shit. I think the belt set was like $10 and the knives were $15 or something like that. We would hawk this crap all over the city hitting little strip malls in run-down areas because as he so eloquently put it "people around here will buy anything". Nice. So now I have to deal with that rolling around in my head. I'd like to say that it was right then and there that I decided that I didn't want anything to do with this guy and this "business" but I was still blinded by the promise of "big bucks". Plus, he had been saying how he was going to be moving to Florida soon and would need guys like me to help him get his franchise set up down there. Oh you mean like guys who haven't sold ANYTHING ever, who hate people and can't drive? Those kind of guys? Well hell, I'm yer man then.

After several hours of moving from parking lot to parking lot he decided that I was all trained up and could easily set out on my own the next day. What? Seriously? "Oh jeebus, I think I've fucked up again", was the thought going through my head. "How am I going to carry this crap around? On the goddamn T?" I decided that I wasn't going to accept his offer to move to Florida if asked and I certainly wasn't going to return the next day to continue with this career. Plus, I still had to purchase my inventory. Had I mentioned that part yet? Oh yes, you needed to have a certain amount of crap in stock to sell to people who should know better. One thing I was definitely lacking was moneys with which to purchase goods. So this whole scheme was doomed from the start.

We wrapped up the day of sales and headed back to the office in Malden. He was going on and on about how great it's going to be when he gets to Florida and how much I'm going to love it there (apparently I had landed the job after all even though I never actually heard an offer or accepted anything. That's how goddamn charming I am). We were on Rt. 93 north near the Boston Garden when he said "Oh man, I gotta take a leak. Here, grab the steering wheel a sec won't ya?" I'm sorry, what? I do as instructed and grab a hold of the steering wheel as he turned over onto his left side, cracked open the door and pissed out of the opening. All of this while stuck in traffic. Oh COME ON! What the fuck? Even I could see this for the giant red flag that it was.

We got back to the office and I followed him in to talk to the boss guy. He went in to the guy's office and told me to wait out in the main reception area for a sec. I did and in a few he came out and said the boss guy wanted to see me. WHY AM I STILL HERE? I SHOULD JUST FUCKING LEAVE ALREADY! But of course I don't leave and I go in to talk to the boss guy. "Petey (or whatever that guy's name was...I forget) says your a natural at this! As far as I'm concerned you have a job here!" Oh really? You do realize that Petey if a fucking moron right? Do you know he pisses out of his car door while driving on Rt. 93? Do you know he's a huge racist? I do. I know a lot of nuggets about Petey. I don't ever want to see him or you again. Good DAY, sir. That's what I should have said. What I did say was "Oh really? That's nice of you." Whatta pussy.

I did eventually tell the guy that I couldn't really do the job, not because of the fact that it was an unsustainable business model or that his hiring practices left me wondering about his intelligence or even that the idea of hawking knives to people at 8 in the morning isn't a pleasant prospect; oh no, I couldn't do the job because I couldn't AFFORD to buy in. Yep. Moral standards officially lowered, full speed ahead. He said he understood and I left the office to start my walk back to my parent's apartment. And I still didn't have any money to pay my mom the room and board I owed her. Awesome.

3 Boro Bike Failure

Hi. Remember when I said that I was going to do the TD Bank 5 Boro Bike Ride? Yea, apparently I lied. What I did was the 3 Boro Bike, Walk a Little, Take a Train While it Rains All Over You Ride. God, what a failure. Let's get into in shall we?

Ok, so I stupidly did zero training leading up to this ride. I haven't ridden my bike in ... let's just say it's been a while. And it, um, showed. Solh and I got to Dave's place on Saturday and after playing some video games and generally goofing off with Dave's fambly (hey there Brenda! Thanks for letting us stay in your house, eat your food and disrupt your household. Aren't you glad you don't have Solh stretching in your doorways anymore and me snoring so loud your dogs were afraid? Big hello to Ethan and Eva too [the little ones]! Sorry I don't know how to talk to kids...), we all went to sleep relatively early since we had to get up at butt-stupid 3 goddamn 30 on a Sunday morning. That's just not natural.

The next morning we drove down to the tip of Manhattan and parked Dave's truck over near the Brooklyn Bridge on Front St. After hooking up with the other peeps in our little group (Dave's brother Paul, his Uncle Bill, cousin Patty and friends Kerry and Michael) we made our way over to the start of the ride. We wanted to start just ahead of the bulk of the riders since I understand it's a bit of a clusterfuck at the official start in Battery Park. It was raining a little at this point, not terribly hard, just a light drizzle but it was chilly. Then all of a sudden we see the police motorcycles coming and we're off! Hooray! This is gonna be awesome.


this is our group waiting for the ride to begin. That's Paul pretending
to be "special".

And it was...for a while. The rain was annoying but tolerable, the Keystone Cops aspect of all those bikes was crazy and (at times) dangerous but we're here in New York riding in the middle of the street with no cars around! How cool is that? I was trying to pace myself because I knew that if I didn't, there was little chance of me having enough for the end of the ride. We had sort of agreed that if the rain continued we'd bail on the last portion of the ride and just take the Brooklyn Bridge back over to Manhattan and call it a day. That shortcut would chop off about 8 miles from the ride but it was still 27+ miles from where we started. Did I mention that I hadn't ridden a bike, any bike, in quite a while? Yea, I thought I had.

The first sign that things were not going to go as planned for me was in Central Park. There's a little hill in the park that kicked me squarely in the nuts. I'm not talking about a San Francisco style hill either. This hill is just slightly steeper than your average driveway but it made me get off my bike and start walking. I was so disappointed in myself that I could NOT get up this tiny grade. This is where Dave, Solh and I (they very nicely pulled over to wait for me) lost the rest of our group. We wouldn't see them again on the ride but I'm getting ahead of myself. This is also where the running joke of "The New Low" started out. Here I am walking my bike up this bunny slope of a hill and this tiny woman with daises sticking out of her helmet on a single speed, bright pink beach cruiser with tassels and a basket passed me by effortlessly. "A New Low!" I yelled over to Solh who immediately pointed out the 3 other women with similar bikes who were with the first woman. Sigh....stupid belly.

Our reduced group made our way along the route stopping periodically to get water and to allow my legs to stop cramping up. I had developed a small cramp in my left calf muscle but I worked through it and although I was tired, wet, and really, really slow (I was totally holding Solh and Dave back but they very nicely stayed with me), I was still enjoying the fact that I was out riding bikes with all these people and my friends in the NYC. It was totally cool. Then the 8-year-old kid on the BMX bike doing wheelies zipped past me. A New Low.

And then we hit the first real big bridge. The motherfucking Queensboro Bridge. We had been riding down FDR Drive (which is surreal) when the riders all came to a bottleneck at the entrance to the bridge. This gives you time to notice just how frickin' high up it is. I wish I had recorded this scene. We're standing on FDR looking up at the bridge and all you can see is a river of bikes going over it. It was pretty cool. But goddamn people, that bridge broke me. I started out ok once we got past the bottleneck part but then there was just a steady uphill bit. I got a major cramp in my right quad that just sapped all energy and power out of my leg. It turned into jelly and I could barely walk my bike up that bridge. The whole time I'm walking this thing up, Dave and Solh stuck right there with me. I know I'm a cranky bastard and stuff like that but goddamn I appreciated those guys. They're really great.

Once I got near the center span of the bridge I got back on the bike and took full advantage of my ability to use gravity. I just coasted down the other side of the bridge and into Queens. This was the 15th mile of what was supposed to be a reduced 27+ mile ride. I realized that I wasn't going to make it. My calf was sore and my right quad was on fire. Plus, bike butt. Holy crap bike butt. All that rain was making the bike butt worse...I'll let you figure out the details. I was totally unprepared for rain. Especially this much rain. By this point it had given up the charade of drizzle and mist and had gone completely over to a steady, cold rain. Solh was the only one of us who had real bike-ready rain gear. I had to make a decision and I had to make it quick. Was I going to push through the next 11+ miles to the Brooklyn Bridge shortcut (and then UP and OVER the bridge itself by the way. That in of itself was not a fun thought) or was I going to throw in the towel early? My stupid pride was telling me to push on...but then the guy on the unicycle passed me and I had my newest "New Low".

We cruised into Astoria Park in Queens for a pee break and while sitting on a soaking wet bench under the Triborough Bridge I came to the decision that I cannot go any further. I told the guys that I had to quit the ride and I'll tell ya something...they so could have made this a big thing where I have to apologize a hundred times and they berate me with insults or whatever but they didn't. They just said "Ok" and that was that. We just stopped the ride. Fortunately I had bailed on the ride at a really convenient place. Astoria Park is not that far from a train station so after getting directions from one of the marshalls, we made our way over to the train station a few blocks away.



ok, so they gave me a little grief about quitting..

I was so torn at this point. Once I had admitted that I could not finish even the shortened ride I felt this huge relief (especially since the guys didn't give me a hard time about it) but I also felt like I had let everybody down. Those guys could have easily finished the ride if I hadn't bailed. Ah well. We got on the train and before long we were right at the Brooklyn Bridge. All we had to do was ride a few blocks over to where the truck was parked and that was the end of it. I was so relieved. We got to the truck, crammed the bikes into the back and then walked over to Jeremy's Ale House on Front St. where we got some beers and food while we waited for the rest of our extended group to show up.

Now Dave's uncle Bill is a tri-athlete and an ex-New York State Police Captain. His brother Paul is in great shape himself (he'd completed this ride with Uncle Bill last year) as well as his cousin Patty. Kerry, it turns out had done this 4 times previously. Oh, and although Michael hadn't ridden a bike in almost 5 years, he's a firefighter in Yonkers. So, yeah, I was a bit outclassed. When we got to the bar, Dave sent a text message to his brother taunting him that we had finished the ride already and were enjoying a beer. Now, this was technically the truth but it did lend itself to interpretation. Paul must have assumed that we not only finished the ride as scheduled but had blasted past the rest of them without anyone noticing us. Silly Paul.

Kerry and Michael were the first ones to show up at the bar and our fake story lasted approximately 5 minutes before we confessed that we had failed to complete the ride. Kerry and Michael convinced us to try to keep the story going and make the rest of them believe that we had finished the whole ride. However, it was not long after Uncle Bill gave me the "atta boy" punch on the arm that Dave spilled that we had quit the ride early. Everyone laughed and we had a great time telling stories from the day (Uncle Bill had shredded a tire on the route and this had greatly delayed them so that's why they thought that maybe we had passed them by without noticing).

So, what did I learn? Hmm. Well, I learned that sitting around for extended periods of time does not help you complete a 42 mile bike ride...rain or no rain. I learned that this kind of event deserves some respect. It is not just a leisurely ride on a Sunday morning. Would I do it again? I'm not sure. My butt is still too sore for me to answer that question accurately. And I learned that my friends are really great guys who will stand behind me and help me out when I need it. They will make fun of me ONLY when they know that I'm not actually going to die. How sweet of them. Thanks guys.