Bad Job

I thought I was going to get this good job? But then I didn't get it? And I need to get home, which involves having a job? So now, I am doing it. I am taking... the bad job.
Telemarketing.
I am actually sitting here right now, supposed to be taking notes on these dudes' sales pitches. I'll set the scene a little bit. Often offices are described as "dingy" but all those people who are describing offices as "dingy" better shut the fuck up right now because ain't no office dingy like this office is dingy. If people don't CURRENTLY smoke in the building, they must have in the recent past. The only other people in the room are two middle-aged men who appear to be blatant steroid users. There are motivational posters hung dead seriously around the room and, even more insanely, in fact totally, unbelievably, insanely, one of the guys has this poster on his cubicle wall of a junkie about to shoot up, but JESUS is standing behind him, and Jesus is thrusting his arm out and his face is all like "aaauuggghhh!" and he is taking the evil drug for the junkie and saving one of his lambs! Oh my god that is crazy. That is a crazy thing for crazy people. Holy shit I found it online! LOOOK! I need you to understand that he is NOT MAKING A JOKE WITH THIS! HE IS 4 REALZ!
So, I'm listening to the pitches and one thing I am learning is yes, telemarketers are flat-out lying to you all the time. But for some reason, they aren't big lies. They aren't lies about how much something costs (advertising space, in this case), or when you have to pay, or what they are going to do with your information. No, they lie about other, seemingly less important things, to get you to trust them. First of all, we don't say the office is in Orlando, we say it's in Boca Raton, which is where we're calling. By the way, Boca Raton is supposed to be all fancy or whatever? But the name means "rat's mouth". Yuck. Anyway, back on topic. Lies. Telling potential buyers that they have been "referred" to us rather than "we found your name in the newspaper", which is the truth. I heard one guy say that the advertising booklet was "like Vogue magazine" which I'm sure made Anna Wintour roll over in the hyperbaric coffin she most likely sleeps in.
OK, keep your eyes on the prize, girl! The prize being $8 an hour and a flight back home! It's all I need in the world.
Now I'm in another room. It's not as dingy (how could it be?), but it's still only dudes and the motivational posters are still in place. This room seems to be more for the junior staff or something. The guys are definitely not as slick. Also, I heard someone fart.
As far as FUCKING INSANE cubicle decor goes, there is nothing quite like heroin Jesus (is there anything like heroin Jesus?). But one guy does just have a full page print out of a snap shot of himself. Who does that? Oh my god he just farted again. I hope you guys understand the EXTREME SACRIFICE I am making here! I am about to sign on and get paid to do the devil's work!
I've caught people checking facebook several times. And they're finding people to call off of craigslist. So you know what that means. Talking to friends and looking for better jobs while getting paid!
No, but seriously, folks. I plan to do pretty good at this job. I'm at talker, it's in my nature.
(Hold on, STOP FARTING, YOU FREAK! DO YOU THINK NO ONE IS NOTICING?)
OK, back to what I was saying. I am both communicative and unscrupulous, making me an ideal telemarketer. Oh no, what if I'm like, REALLY good at this? What if it's like my CALLING? (Hey! That was a pun! haaaaaa)
That would be pretty depressing. Alright, need not get ahead of ourselves. For now I am sitting in a smelly, muscle-filled office, sneakily writing snarky bloggage, keeping strict records of all farting activity, and preparing for a job I will most likely hate but still gladly do because I am a grown-up. A grown-up who misses her friends and needs some motha fuckin' ca$$$$h.