I have never had a job that I enjoyed for more than sixteen months. Sixteen Months seems to be the magic number and after that point my job satisfaction always takes a precipitous dive off a cliff into thoughts of, “For the love of God if I don’t get a raise or a new job I’m going to have to find an oven to stick my head in.” I have no idea what is about that mark. Much like babies after sixteen months a personality starts to develop and it’s a cross roads. That kid is either going to be a nice functioning member of the community or is a budding asshole. Jobs and babies are one in the same. The reason for this may come from the newness of the job finally wearing off and you realize the majority of the people around you fit into a few categories: normal, douche bag, or incompetent. You can put up with and enjoy yourself at work for far less money if the normal far out weigh the douches and incompetence. That is just never case.
Almost immediately after graduating college (College, another mistake for another time.) I took a job working for a local Fox affiliate in Columbia, South Carolina. I didn’t get this job through the skills I had amassed during my years at the University of South Carolina. No, I got the job because the production manager at the time saw me and thought, “That dude can probably carry a lot of shit.” No qualifications whatsoever, I looked like a human pack mule. Sadly, this is true and he was also correct. The mantra of this television was basically “Incompetence will reign supreme!”
There were some bright spots on staff and I can name them by name. The rest were an astounding mix of douche baggery and incompetence. The entire station was doing nothing else besides playing a giant game of Cover My Ass; It’s Not My Fault. The Station manager is a drunk. The highest-ranking sales manager, she was sleeping with the station manager (He being married.) and she is a self involved youth dying hard who was, I’d venture a guess to say, 10 years beyond fuckable. The two most senior female sales people were drug addicts (prescription pills and blow) and drunks who hated everyone and tried to use their feminine wiles to get whatever they wanted. Except no one was buying what they were selling. The newest sales person was a young girl, directly out school who thought she was hot stuff. Just because you put on a skirt and tight blouse doesn’t mean you’re a catch. Walk down to the far side of the cubicles and look at Roly and Poly, there’s your future sweetheart. Oh, did the Thing One and Thing Two hate her. Some of my favorite days were the days the three would come out of the station managers office crying because they didn’t get exactly what they wanted. It’s too bad they didn’t know all their problems were just a hummer and a vodka tonic away from being solved.
Of course shit rolls downhill. Being at the bottom of that hill, I was covered in it. I did this job for 18 months. Eighteen months of constantly being yelled because of people’s inability to communicate and me knowing the proper use of the word “NO.” I was branded difficult to work with by all by the sales people and the sales manager banging the GM. Saying no was never the acceptable answer for these people even, if it was the right one. The more time would go on the gruffer and curter I would become. I would make up projects that weren’t even real so I could sneak down and have cup coffee at the now defunct Paul’s Philadelphia Eatery with my buddy Wade.
I enjoyed that Job for a total of three months. Finally in December of 2008 I had enough. I would quit my job. I said the hell with this and I quit. My last day was my birthday. I turned 25. The next day I packed a bag, got in my car, drove to Key West, and was fishing by Sunday morning.
Almost immediately after graduating college (College, another mistake for another time.) I took a job working for a local Fox affiliate in Columbia, South Carolina. I didn’t get this job through the skills I had amassed during my years at the University of South Carolina. No, I got the job because the production manager at the time saw me and thought, “That dude can probably carry a lot of shit.” No qualifications whatsoever, I looked like a human pack mule. Sadly, this is true and he was also correct. The mantra of this television was basically “Incompetence will reign supreme!”
There were some bright spots on staff and I can name them by name. The rest were an astounding mix of douche baggery and incompetence. The entire station was doing nothing else besides playing a giant game of Cover My Ass; It’s Not My Fault. The Station manager is a drunk. The highest-ranking sales manager, she was sleeping with the station manager (He being married.) and she is a self involved youth dying hard who was, I’d venture a guess to say, 10 years beyond fuckable. The two most senior female sales people were drug addicts (prescription pills and blow) and drunks who hated everyone and tried to use their feminine wiles to get whatever they wanted. Except no one was buying what they were selling. The newest sales person was a young girl, directly out school who thought she was hot stuff. Just because you put on a skirt and tight blouse doesn’t mean you’re a catch. Walk down to the far side of the cubicles and look at Roly and Poly, there’s your future sweetheart. Oh, did the Thing One and Thing Two hate her. Some of my favorite days were the days the three would come out of the station managers office crying because they didn’t get exactly what they wanted. It’s too bad they didn’t know all their problems were just a hummer and a vodka tonic away from being solved.
Of course shit rolls downhill. Being at the bottom of that hill, I was covered in it. I did this job for 18 months. Eighteen months of constantly being yelled because of people’s inability to communicate and me knowing the proper use of the word “NO.” I was branded difficult to work with by all by the sales people and the sales manager banging the GM. Saying no was never the acceptable answer for these people even, if it was the right one. The more time would go on the gruffer and curter I would become. I would make up projects that weren’t even real so I could sneak down and have cup coffee at the now defunct Paul’s Philadelphia Eatery with my buddy Wade.
I enjoyed that Job for a total of three months. Finally in December of 2008 I had enough. I would quit my job. I said the hell with this and I quit. My last day was my birthday. I turned 25. The next day I packed a bag, got in my car, drove to Key West, and was fishing by Sunday morning.
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