Briefcases at 14 years-old

The summer after my freshman year in high school, I had reached a point where carrying a wallet filled with actual cash was necessary. Of course, it was necessary! I had things to do, people to see, and places to go. Simply stated, I was a broke teenager and had considered getting a job. But then again, I wanted a cool job. I didn’t want to work at any simple joint like the the ice cream shop or Burger World. C’mon now, you can’t take over the world serving burgers and smoothies. So I waited it out for a better “opportunity.”

It was a sunny Tuesday and I was enjoying my home-made Hi-C berry punch while lounging on the sofa. My brother had just came back from work and presented me with this flyer for a job. It read something like this:

So at 14 years old, that sounded pretty monster! Let’s evaluate: $250 dollars a week for a 14 year old is plenty. Hell, I would buy new pegs for my bike and some Timberlands. Maybe even have money left over to take Mary and Juan out. At 14, I fit the description perfectly. No experience. I was so qualified. Making my own hours. Well someone as busy as I was at 14 would definitely need some flexibility in work hours. As for the competency exam, no worries. I was an “A” student. What could they possibly throw at me that I couldn’t answer. Hell, I could do complex mathematical calculations in my head (addition and subtraction). It was time to put action into my master plan for world domination before the end of high school.

So I called immediately for an interview, just like the flyer stated (note: follows instructions). I spoke to the HR lady over the phone and she asked me all these professional questions about my career aspirations and people skills. Easy! Lady, I’m going to be a blogger one day, of course I got people skills. Shit! So she scheduled an in-person interview with the vice president. Wow! This was big! I would land this job and then quit high school and drink Martinis with big-dogs like Gates and Trump. I was pumped!

On the day of the interview, I wasn’t nervous. Being the cocky 14-year old I was, there was nothing that could get in the way of me and a fat wallet. I was prepared and all decked out in my spiffy little slacks with a white shirt and some funky tie (it was cool back then – at least my mom thought so). I walked to the interview in the heat, but I didn’t sweat. I was “cool.” Nothing could touch me today. Nothing!

As I walked into the corporate headquarters on some buys commercial block, I was feeling very optimistic. My shoes were bothering me because they had not been worn-in yet (sorry – had to mention that). Strolling into the pre-screening HR room with a stupid grin on my face, I realized the place was packed with applicants. No worries. A little competition would make it interesting. Besides none of these older joe schmoes had anything on me. I had a letter of recommendation from my little league baseball coach. You fools aint’ got that, do you? So I picked up the paperwork as I signed in at the receptionist’s desk, giving her the old one-two punch of charm. Let’s see: Name = easy one, Address = easy, Birthdate = know that one too. Done! Hey Lady, I’m done with my application. You guys ready for me now? 2 hours later……they were ready for me.

I walked into the VP’s office and he reviewed my carefully prepared resume. He was very impressed and said I wouldn’t even need to take the competency exam. Hell yeah! Of course, I wouldn’t. So then he directed me to another room. This room was where all the “accepted” candidates were sent for their new hire orientation. Everyone who didn’t make the cut was sent home. However, this waiting room had a good number of folks in there as well. I thought to myself – must be my new co-workers. Meanwhile, the question finally occurred to me while I was in the waiting room: What the hell was I going to be doing for this company anyway? I would soon find out.

After mingling with all the “accepted” candidates for twenty minutes (see, already networking), the VP finally came in and turned on the projection screen and dimmed the lights. We sat and listened to our new boss. He would begin introducing himself and the rest of the “executive” staff. Then, he begin giving his presentation on what the company was about and what our roles would be. I couldn’t wait. And then, it hit me! He pulled open a very large briefcase. At first, I thought he was retrieving some notes, but what I saw in there startled me. He had a collection of really-really-really fancy knives. Yes knives!!!!!!!!! Did you hear me? The guy had like 50 knives in his briefcase – what the hell! He started a demonstration. First he pulled one knife and cut a rope in half. Then, he pulled another knife and cut some aluminum in half. And then, he took a quarter and cut it up with the knife to make it look like a corkscrew. OK! Well, maybe I’m working for a knife company. Maybe I’ll be doing Accounting for them. Or some Financial Analysis. Something like that. I bet people that work at Colgate get a demonstration of their toothpaste. This is probably similar.

Nope! By the end of the hour-long charade, I realized that I had just been hired to sell knives to my friends and family. You mofos!!!!!! You waste my time to give me a job selling knives. I should strangle every one of you – - – - I thought to myself. Better yet, you had to BUY your own knife briefcase so you can perform the same demonstrations while you’re trying to sell these sharp instruments to your beloved acquaintances. Bastards!!!! I felt like they had brainwashed me during that whole presentation. And even worse, I was so thrown off by everything happening around me, I actually PAID them for the briefcase filled with knives. A whopping $200. So let’s evaluate: I paid someone to get a job where I would be selling knives to people I know and requesting them to provide referrals. Ummmmm…..for some odd reason, I did not feel like this was the best way to take over the world. I had been scammed…. brainwashed…… abused….. violated…..and worst of all, I had just achieved more humility than one person should ever encounter in a lifetime.

As I walked home carrying my new knife briefcase…feeling all trippy from my experience at the interview, I regained my composure and senses. I decided I wasn’t going to stand for this! So I went back to the office, and demanded my money back. After a half-hour of back-and-forth antics, they refunded my money and I tossed the briefcase back into their hands. Closure! That’s what I needed and it was over.

I eventually got home that day and decided it was best for me to spend my teenage years being broke. After all, another instance of being jacked and abused like that would lead to life-long therapy. I never got my Timberlands, and I never got pegs for my bike. I think I just drank more Hi-C Berry Juice after that. That was far more comforting to my wounded soul.

Lesson learned: Stay away from knives!

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Posted by Charlie P on Mar 7 2005. Filed under Entertainment, Headline, Lists, Live, Play, Sex + Women, Sports, Stories, Style, Travel + Places, Work. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0. You can leave a response or trackback to this entry