Tomorrow, Tomorrow

I start work tomorrow.

It's only a day awa-a-a-a-y.

Yep. I got the call from the team leader this morning. The shift starts at 6:30am and goes until "fifteen hundred hours." (That's how they talk on base - cute!)

I added some freon to my 16 year-old car's faltering A/C system. I also started working on replacing the radio.

I took a "test run" out to the fort, so there'd be no early morning surprises.

Turns out it's an eight and a half mile commute.

Buh-bye hour-long, 83 mile round trip job trek.

Hello, contract job!

The Post-Pity-Party-Party

After boo-hoohing about my "special" 30 year anniversary (see previous entry) on July 22nd, I should also mention that I got a job offer that very same day.

Yep, that very same Friday I got the phone call that I have been offered that contract job at Fort Bragg! The lady at the contracting firm sent me an employment agreement to sign and fax back to her, which I did by lunch time.

"You will start on Monday, July 25th," I was told.

Whoo-Hoo! Christmas in July for Craiggy-boy!

The next step was for the on-base team leader to contact me so I would know where to go, who to see and what to do.

The phone rang at 3:00.

It was the lady from the contract company.

Seems there was a delay in processing one of the many forms I filled out and sent in.

I was told NOT to come in on Monday.

The team leader would (eventually) contact me once everything was processed.

Yarrgh!

Yet ANOTHER waiting game.

Deep breaths.

Think about puppies and rainbows.

Must resist the urge to pen a 1,500 page "manifesto" and then go on a holy rampage to right all the world's wrongs...

Sorry, Calvin

Thanks to a tip from one of my peeps at church, it looks like I might finally be rejoining the workforce.

Now, I'm probably counting my chickens before they've hatched, but I've filled out all the paperwork and did the physical today, so barring any unforeseen circumstances...

Looks like I'll be working at Fort Bragg as an "Electronics Helper."

My thirty-four year-old AAS degree in Electrical Technology is finally paying off!

From the job description I'll be doing things like preparing units for refurbishing, either by making/painting cabinets, installing name plates, tightening sockets, looking for obvious physical damage and what-not.

It's a one-year contract with Medical & Dental benefits. And it's a first shift gig, too.

Sounds like COTY and their promises of a three-to-six month second-shift gig is going to be filed under "thanks for screwing around with me all Summer."

Let's see what happens next.

Me And Calvin - Part II

Guess what?

I had a second interview at the Coty factory back on June 24th.

I got a call at about 12:45 from "the agency" that I had to be out at the factory by 2:00 for another interview, this time with a Ms. Burns.

I peeled off my shorts-n-tee shirt, slapped on the shirt-n-tie and made a bee-line for Sanford, NC.

Turns out that this was an interview for a different part of the plant. Whereas the previous session had involved incoming inspection for packaging components, this jobs is for final inspection of product at the enamel (i.e. fingernail polish) line.

Ms. Burns didn't know that I had been out there a few weeks prior and that I already had a cursory knowledge of the plant layout and product lines.

A couple of highlights:

1. The position is as an inspector on the second shift, so she was concerned that I would be able to handle some of the drama associated with telling people when product is not to spec and corrections are needed.

What luck!

I just happened to have a letter of recommendation from a previous boss at the dishrack factory that stated:

"[Craig's] diplomatic and genial approach is very successful with both customers and suppliers. He is particularly adept at calming difficult situations."

(Thanks, Colin - I owe ya!)

2. The interviewer played the old, "you seem to actually be OVERQUALIFIED for this position."

Aha - I was ready for her this time.

The main concern with "overqualified candidates" is that once you hire them and train them they will bolt for a better job, more in line with their experience level.

I pointed out that since this was to be a temporary contract position for "three to six months" then it is already acknowledged by both parties that there is a finite time period involved. Putting on an "overqualified" person in such an instance is actually buying the employer "more bang for their buck!"

This morning , my wife turned on my cell phone and noticed that there were two messages in queue. There weren't any messages the previous night when I hooked up the charger, so I knew these were fresh.

Yep, it was the job pimp once again ignoring my request NOT to call me on my cell.

He said he had some good news for me and to please call him back.

I dialed his number at 8:45am and left a message on his voice mail.

Within fifteen minutes he called back to say that Coty was going to offer me the job.

HUZZAH!

I'll be getting more information about the particulars come Monday, or possibly Tuesday.

Oooh la-la!

A gig at a clean, air conditioned plant?

Come to Poppa!

Activate Tractor Beam...

So, one day I'm minding my own business and... what?

Huh? Oh. Yeah.

The Ghosts of Job Searches past have decreed that I write about yet another interview from heck. There. OK? Can I get on with it now? Thanks.

So, one day I'm minding my own business when the phone rings. It's from a company we'll call "ContractCo." They're a contractor who handles incoming parts quality for a tractor manufacturer that we'll call "Centipede Tractors" just so I don't get flack from the "Caterpillar" people!

Now, I'd been out to "Centipede" a while back to interview with a different contractor for a different contract position, so I had been there before. I also knew that this tractor company tends to contract out nearly every possible phase of their operation, so there seems to be a welter of different companies suckling off their corporate teat. That's really neither here nor there for the purposes of this tale, though.

I set up an interview with the ContractCo Quality guy. He gave me directions to the building where we were to meet that ended with, "we're right on the corner of Route 24 and Industrial Drive. Just park in the visitor section and tell the receptionist you want to see me, 'John Doe.'"

Comes the big day, I don my suit and tie and hit the road. Yeah, I had been out to this plant before, but I forgot what an inconvenient drive it was. Mile after mile on a Route 24 that went though small town after small town. I pulled into the specified parking lot about two minutes after the agreed-upon appointment time.

"No biggie, " I thought as I headed toward the reception area.

"Hello, " Itold the receptionist. "My name is Craig Davison; I have an appointment to see John Doe of ContractCo."

"Oh," she replied. "You're at the wrong building. This is just a warehouse"

"I am?" I asked. "He was pretty specific that I meet him at the corner of Route 24 and Industrial Drive."

"No, no, no. You need to turn right out of the parking lot and drive about two miles to the end of the road. Take another right onto Butternut and then a quick left on Malarky Drive." she instructed. "It's the big building at the end of the road."

Now, I'm starting to get worried. It is now five minutes past my arranged interview time and I'm not even at the right building? Shaking my head, I high-tailed it back to my car and started navigating the maze through the Industrial Park.

At about ten past the hour I had located the "main building" and was breathing heavily as I approached the reception desk.

"Hello," I panted. "I'm Craig Davison and I have an appointment with John Doe of ContractCo."

The receptionist buzzed an intercom, relayed the message and then indicated that I should have a seat. Gladly, sister! I need to catch my breath.

After about another ten minutes or so a fellow came out to see the receptionist. She pointed in my direction and he approached me with his hand extended.

"Craig Davison?" he asked in an East Indian accent.

"Nice to meet you Mr. Doe," I responded.

"Oh, no," he replied. "I'm not John Doe. He is back at building seventeen. What you need to do is turn left out the parking lot, take the street all the way to the end, turn left and then turn left again, just before you get to Route 24."

Exasperated, I fretted, "I am now a full half-hour late for my interview! What are the chances I'll make a good impression now?"

I followed the latest set of direction and I ended up right back where I started from!

Hmmmm. The receptionist already shooed me away once. What to do? What to do?

Oh, yeah! I have our crappy little TracPhone in the car! I'll call John Doe's cell phone number and explain what's been happening.

"Hello," said the voice on the phone. "This is John Doe."

"Hello, John," I blathered. "This is Craig Davison, the fellow you were going to interview today."

"Oh, yeah," he replied. "You went to the wrong building!"

"Well, here's the problem. I went to the building you directed me to about forty minutes ago. The receptionist had me drive over the the main building and another fellow had me drive right back to where I started from. All I want to know is, am I where I'm supposed to be?"

Chuckling, John asked, "Well, where are you now?"

"I'm in the parking lot at the corner of Route 24 and Industrial Drive."

"I don't see you," replied John.

I looked up and saw a man at the far end of the parking lot with a cell phone.

"Do you see a guy frantically waving his arms?" I asked. "That's me!"

He came over, we shook hands and went back into the reception area. The receptionist had been made aware of her mistake and just kept repeating "Oh, I'm so sorry!" over and over.

Yeah, I didn't get the gig...

Turned Back At The Gates

Yeah, yeah. Ghosts of Job Searches Past. Gotta blog about it. Yadda yadda yadda...

One time there was an ad for some sort of a position that sounded like a half-step above vacuuming the farts out of the cushions at the local Greyhound Station. Let's call the company in question SwillTekInc.

It was 35 miles away, in Lillington, NC, but I had applied (twice, unsuccessfully) to a business out there so I knew where it was.

I put on my suit and tie and went down to the staffing agency to apply.

I walked in the front door to find a reception area with one of those "office windows" in the wall.

I walked up to me window, and ventured a meek, "Hello?"

A young woman, who was standing near a desk in the rear of the area behind the window replied with a frosty, "Can I help you?"

Me: Yes, I'd to apply for that SwillTekInc position.

Her (not bothering to come to the window): Huh. That's in Lillington, you know.

Me: Oh, yes, I know. It said so in the newspaper ad.

Her: That's kinda far away. Do you have a car?

Me: Oh, yes I do. In fact I drove it here!

Her: Because it's kind of far.

Me: I've been out to Lillington before. Believe me, I've had longer commutes.

Her: Well, you'd have to fill out an application and watch a video. It's usually a three hour process.

Me: That's fine. I'm unemployed and I was expecting to have to fill out some sort of paperwork.

Her (still not coming to the window): Well, that job's been filled.

Me: Oh. Well, my unemployment benefits are contingent on applying to at least two employers a week. Could I maybe fill out one of your applications for you to keep on file. That would really help me out.

Her: Yeah, that would help you, but not us. Sorry.

Me: Oh. Well, thanks any way.

---

Could she have been any more dismissive?

If the job had truly been filled, then what was all that BS about needing a car and spending 3-1/2 hours filling out an application?

What is it about me that inspires such hatred amongst the nation's employment gate-keepers?

I can only hope Ms. MegaFarce ended up with that gig down at the bus station.

Hosed in Erie, PA

The Ghosts of Job Searches Past apparently have not been appeased, so I'll relate a magical trip I took to Erie, PA.

It all started with an on-line job application to an agency that was representing a company that manufactures fire hoses. They needed a Quality Assurance guy, so I figured, "What the heck - maybe this'll be our ticket back North!"

Now, I forget the name of the company, so let's call it HoseCo. (How many fire hose manufacturers could there be in Erie, PA?) Let's call the agency WarmBodiez Services.

I also forget the names of the people involved, so I'll make them up, as well.

---

"Nancy" called from WarmBodiez one day to let me know that they received my application and resume for the HoseCo Quality position.

She was pleasant enough and we had a little chat about my employment history and my desire to move from NC to PA. "Nancy" said she'd forward my information to the HoseCo rep and someone would be in touch shortly.

---

True to her word, "Herbert" from HoseCo called. He was the Quality Manager and was eager to set up a formal speaker phone teleconference interview.

Swell! We set a time and date.

Of course, all I knew about fire hoses were what I had gleaned off of certain bumper stickers over the years, i.e. "Firemen have giant hoses that squirt all night long!"

I was pleased to find there was enough info available on ye olde internette so that I could at least get a cursory knowledge of the manufacturing process, buzz words and associated specifications.

---

Came the day of the phone interview I was prepped and ready to roll.

The phone rang and "Herbert" was there with two other guys who I'll call "Larry" and "Jeff." We chatted for about 45 minutes and I gave the performance of my life!

I batted around specs and materials as if I invented vulcanizing. I painted such a glowing picture of my previous work experience that I was ready to go shopping for an expensive frame.

By the end of our call, "Herbert" said he get back in touch with me shortly.

I'm usually pretty skeptical about these things, but I had a good feeling about this one.

---

An hour later, the telephone rang again.

It was "Herbert."

He wanted to know if I could fly in for an in-person interview with the VP of Operations. We'd do a tour of the plant and then go out for lunch, so we could all get better acquainted. They'd have a check waiting for me at the plant so I could be reimbursed for the airline ticket.

I told him I'd book a flight and get back to him with the day, time and ticket price.

Wahoo! Am I a player, or what?

---

A quick word about flying out of Fayetteville, NC.

I can be done, there is a municipal airport here. It is very difficult to co-ordinate a "sensible" flight plan out of Fayetteville, NC.

The other option is the Raleigh-Durham Airport (RDU). That is a ninety minute drive from Fayetetteville, but the Park-n-Ride lots are convenient and, overall it's not all that bad.

Of course, to get to Erie, PA so as to attend a morning meeting meant booking a 6:00AM flight.

The math on this works out as:

• 90 minutes to drive to RDU to arrive...
• 60 minutes before boarding time, plus...
• 30 minutes allowance for shuttle to the airport, plus...
  
• 60 minutes to eat, shower, shave, get dressed.

So I'd better plan on getting up four hours before my flight leaves. That's 2:00AM!

---

I arrived at the ERIE INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT and was met by "Herbert." He was an older gentleman, complete with hearing aid.

"Craig, there's been a glitch with the reimbursement for for ticket," he explained. "I had hoped to have a check here for you but the accounting guys say I'll have to submit the paperwork after our meeting today. I guess they got tired of cutting checks for people who dodn't show up, or something."

A minor matter, but that old spider sense was beginning to tingle.

The trip to the plant was brief and I was soon in a meeting room with "Larry" and "Jeff."

Yep, these were the guys I had "wowed" during the phone interview.

"We'll get started once 'Bill' gets here," said "Herbert.

---

In the door strode the Executive Vice President, who I call "Bill" in honor of his body bouble, Bill Lumberg.

"Well," quipped "Bill", "Let's get this show on the road!"

What followed was a 45 minute, nearly word-for-word replay of the earlier teleconference. I was getting the feeling I flew in and was going through the exact same paces for the pleasure of this "Bill" character. I guess it would've been too inconvenient for him to have been part of the first phone interview.

The meeting broke up and "Herbert" took me down the plant's break room for a cup of coffee, while the power-brokers went over their notes in the star chamber. I sat there, reading a discarded copy of the local paper and drinking tepid, watery coffee for an indeterminate period of time.

---

"Herbert" finally came back for me.

"Let's go get your suit coat and notebook," he said.

We returned to the now-empty meeting room and I retrieved my jacket and executive binder. "Herbert" escorted me to the parking lot and we got into his car.

"Hmmm, it's a little early for lunch," I thought to myself. "And what about that plant tour?"

"Well, you didn't do too bad," he said none-too-cryptically, as we pulled into the airport parking lot. "We'll see that you get that check to pay for your ticket."

Yep, there I was, back at the ERIE INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT with only seven hours to kill before my scheduled flight back to Fayetteville.

No Lunch.

No plant tour.

Just a forty-five minute non-meeting and a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach.

I arrived back home at 11:00PM that night. Ah, I just love putting in a grueling twenty-one hour day for nothing!

---

PROLOGUE: The reimbursement check did come in the mail, as well as one of those form-letter rejections.

"Nancy" from the WarmBodiez Agency started calling my house and leaving urgent messages on my answering machine. I needed to call her back!

My window for calling anybody back was very limited, but I managed to collar her on the phone.

"Listen, Craig, we have another opportunity opening up here in Erie," she said. "Would you like me to submit your resume to them, as well?"

"Gosh, that sounds great, 'Nancy'," I replied. "But what happened with that HoseCo job? I bought airline tickets, flew in for the interview and they gave me the bum's rush out the door without the promised plant tour or business lunch."

"Oh," she replied. "They said you came across differently in person than you did on the phone."

Now, what the heck does that mean? The meeting was nearly a verbatim replay of the phone interview! Was I too old? Too fat? Too bald? What kind of friggin' code words am I dealing with here?

"Well, by all means, go ahead a submit my resume to that other company," I replied.

"OK," she said, "now before I go ahead and start that process, I'm going to have to have you take an on-line personality test."

"An on-line personality test?!?!?" I moaned.

My resume and twenty-seven years of Quality / Engineering work experience aren't enough?

I have to pass some sort of personality test?!?!?

The HELL with this!!!

"Look, 'Nancy', I'll have to get back to you on this," I said. "Thanks for your time."

---

I immediately went to near-by a tattoo parlor and had the word "LOSER" written on my forehead.

I figured it would save time on my next interview. (It has also come in handy for many other life experiences, as well!)

Cattle Call

I've been visited by the Ghosts Of Job Hunts Past recently, and they have commanded me to blog about them. Anything to silence their rattling chains!

Here are some notes that I made to kill time during one of the lowest points of my unemployment.

It is dated 11/29/05...

---

It is 5:25PM and I am sitting in a "training room" at the Danaher Controls plant in Elizabethown, NC. There are twenty other hopefuls waiting here with me. We have filled out our Youngblood Staffing applications in anticipation of being interviewed for a handful of "assembly and test jobs" that have opened up in the plant.

This is, by far, the most ineptly executed cattle call I have yet seen. You would think a staffing agency would solicit resumes, review them and the arrange for scheduled interviews. Oh well, I guess that's my [own] personal fantasy.

I can't believe the dress of some of my fellow applicants. While no one is wearing swim fins or a propeller beanie, there are lots of T-shirts, shorts, sandals and "bling-bling" in evidence. Maybe I shouldn't have bothered with a shirt and tie. [Actually a business suit!]

I can only imagine the $6.00/hr w/no benefits jobs they'll be offering. "We'll expect you to work 6PM - 6AM, 10 days on, one day off, weekends and holidays included."

Well, theoretically, I'm next [to be called], so we'll see.

Best of all, it's my daughter's birthday. She turns two today, and Daddy is sitting in some fluorescent-lit waiting room for a job he probably won't get instead of watching her open birthday presents. Oh well. At least my in-laws are in town to share the joy.

---

It is now 5:40PM and several others have been called ahead of me. So much for being "next!"

Who knows? This could be the job I've been praying for. Danaher might just be the most enlightened employer of the 21st century! Flex time! Child Care! Full Medical benefits with no co-pays!! Periodic reviews with pay increases pegged to your actual job performance!! Management and supervision that actually understand and care about their products and processes!!! Maybe I'll get a free perpetual motion / anti-gravity machine just for coming in!!!

There's a reason why DILBERT is so popular. The "Office Space" movie has sold millions of units for this same reason.

Perhaps I shouldn't have aspired to mediocrity. I thought that would ensure my acceptance into the mainstream...

---

Well, it's after 6:00PM and I have just had a brief meeting with a Jamey Robbins, Value Stream Manager [WTF?]. He feels the 2nd shift assembly job they're offering isn't a good fit for me. I appreciate his candor.

He has shunted me to another office, so I can meet with someone named "Liz" who has something to do with "EVM." I wonder if that is anything like "EVA", i.e. "Economic Value Added?" I notice that the rooms all have automatic ON/OFF switches for the lighting. That smacks of EVA.

If they do have such a program one hopes it is being used to affect actual process improvements and to increase profits.

---

I just talked, informally, with the HR Manager and the Plant Manager. They asked for my resume.

Maybe they can help me?

They have an electronics position open.

Maybe I'll get to talk to the mysterious "Liz?"

---

I never did get to see Liz. The Plant Manager, instead, decided to talk to me.

"I'm a straight shooter," he growled, "So I gotta ask. You've been out of work for seven months. Why hasn't anyone hired you?"

Taken aback, all I could muster was, "You tell me!"

What I wanted to say was, "Because straight-shooters, such as yourself, would rather hire people with no experience, who may or may not speak English and who wear cut-offs and T-Shirts to Job interviews! That's why, Mr. People-Skills!"

---

Postscript: My resume was left for the apocryphal "Liz" to review, but, of course nothing was ever heard from them.