Bogus Jobs

'Earn $10,000!'

Door to door on the east coast

Stacey Anderson
Ebbtide Coorespondent

Maybe you’ve seen the ads on a flier on campus or in the school newspaper: “Earn $10,000 this summer and earn college credit!” “Want to travel and meet new people? Join us for an informational meeting!” “No experience necessary – we’ll not only train you, but we’ll be with you every step of the way!” You probably thought it sounded pretty exciting; I certainly did. Little did I know that my short-lived stint as a door-to-door salesperson would enable me to create my own definition for, “a character-building experience.”

Trust me; I had no idea what I was getting myself into when I first committed myself to the Southwestern Company and its veritable army of “educational consultants.” There were only three things that I knew before I left Seattle. First, I was to car caravan across the country, final destination unknown; second, we were to stop in Nashville, Tenn., for a one-week boot camp in selling techniques and surviving in the battlefield, i.e., the town we were assigned to sell in during the summer; and finally, instead of relaxing with friends that I hadn’t seen throughout my freshman year of college, I was to be selling books (on foot no less- I didn’t have a car), 80 hours a week for 10 long weeks.

My team leader and veterans of this unconventional program were all adamant about one thing: This will be the hardest job you’ll ever have. This became a mantra that played over and over in my head like a broken record each time something went wrong. Looking back, I must have been some kind of sadist to accept this punishment with such naively open arms. The more they talked up the adversities that I might encounter, the more I wanted to rise to the challenge. Little did I know that I wouldn’t meet my roommate for the summer until my caravanning group picked her up in Spokane, Wash. Nor did I realize that I would not only be trying to hawk my wares around the town of Johnston, R.I. but I would also be selling myself as a potential live-in college student/entrepreneur. Imagine the exchanges that occurred at many a door:

Knock-knock: Door opens slowly; a head suspiciously peers out into the sunlight.
(Me): “Hi! How’re you today?”
(Them): “Ummm…okaayyy…What’re you trying to sell?”
(Me): “Oh yeah-(smile nervously)-“My name is Stacey Anderson and actually I’m a college student all the way from Seattle, Wash.
(Them): “You’re from where?! What are you doing here?!”
(Me): “Well, that’s exactly what I was about to tell you, you see, I’m going around to all the houses in the neighborhood, showing everyone these great educational materials and study guides…By the way, do you have an extra bedroom for me and my roommate?”

Wasn’t it dangerous? You might be asking right about now. Didn’t it worry your poor mother and father? Not knowing where I was, whose houses I’d be walking into, especially with all those psychos I was sure to meet. To tell you the truth, it wasn’t as scary as the evening news would lead you to believe. In fact, it was just very, very lonely. I was on the opposite end of the country without a friend in sight. Only terse replies of “No thank you, not today” and countless doors slammed in my face. I won’t lie – I spent a lot of my days alone, crying out of homesickness for my family, my friends, or just a welcoming face. It was awful.

Somehow, I survived that summer. Not only did I leave Rhode Island unscathed, but I also came back a much stronger, confident, and more dedicated individual than when I left Seattle that June. The Southwestern experience prepared me for the following semester I spent in France, mainly because it made living abroad a piece of cake compared to my summer in hell back East.

Looking back, it’s funny to think that one customer in particular stands out in my memory of the book trail. As we sat in her den, she asked me what I was studying in college and what I planned on pursuing as a career. When I told her I was considering teaching, she then proceeded to give me such a look of utter disgust as she exclaimed “But you’re not going to make any money! Why don’t you become a lawyer or something? My 13-year-old daughter already wants to be a doctor…” At first it made me sad to think that all this woman cared about was money, but then I realized that money was a huge deciding factor for me in joining Southwestern. I have to smile now however, because here I am continuing my original choice of becoming a teacher. And I remember that I made nowhere near $10,000 that summer.

Your Worst Jobs

Here at the Ebbtide we have plenty of horror stories about the jobs we’ve hated. Our staff was curious about your employment nightmares, so we asked around. Here are a few of the jobs that SCC students and staff have hated, and why they were so terrible.

Geoffrey Reuther
McDonalds was my worst job. I love getting yelled at, having sodas thrown at my head, and constantly being given toilet-scrubbing duty. Really, I do.

Travis Locking
I parked cars at Evergreen State Fair. I was 15 and I just stood in the rain for two weeks for $400. I was happy at the time.

Kyle Clark
Inglewood Country Club in Bothell; I had to be there at about 5 a.m. to cut the greens and approaches on the golf course.

Christine Shafner – SCC Design Instructor
The worst job I ever had was when I worked as a veterinarian’s assistant from age 12 to 17. At first I was the clean-up person. I cleaned poopy kennels. I would also help in surgery castrating, declawing and taking pieces of animal parts for disposal. I would take dead cats and dogs and throw them in the freezer. The worst part was cleaning out the freezer which contained unclaimed animals that had been in there for a year.

Joe Ryan
Two years ago I worked for a business that had high school and college students painting houses during the summer. We worked long hours, and made almost minimum wage. The job itself wasn’t that bad, but my boss would steal money from me. I made about $3,000, but it should have been $4,300. I look at it as a learning experience: just being young and dumb. Whatever.

James S.
After being out of work for what seemed like forever and with Thanksgiving coming. I sent out applications right and left, then Wal-Mart called.

I was going through Department of Vocational Rehabilitation (DVR) which was helping me with contacts and special accommodations. DVR went with me to Wal-Mart to make sure they understood my limitations and that it takes me longer to learn new jobs. I was hired for the night crew. DVR went again to make sure that I knew what my job was and to help me with get off to a good start.

After a few days, I was on my own without DVR support. That night Wal-Mart gave me a new job to do. This went on every few days or so; I would just get the idea of what I needed to do and they would change it on me again. I did the best I could, but after three weeks Wal-Mart fired me because I was too slow!

Why did they hire me in the first place?

Carol Brocker
Have you ever worked at a retail store where it seems every one of the long-time employees is on Prozac? I have! The longer I worked at Wal-Mart, the more I began to understand why.

Different members of management would override your supervisor and give you things to do that interrupted your regular duties; you couldn’t finish what you were supposed to get done by quitting time. Management wanted everything done and you had to be clocked out on time without exception and overtime wasn’t OK. This would go on and on and on.

It seems to be the normal mode of business at that store. It would be enough to drive anyone crazy. It seems to me that most people who work there must be on Prozac! It is the only to put up with that kind of behavior and still keep your job.