· local – this outfit was a 6 minute drive,
· modest commitment of time - two mornings a week (8hrs max) ,
· some physical activity – 70% of the job was not sitting in front of a computer,
· A decent hourly rate – $15 which is a few bucks above the min. wage.
During the interview, I learned that the job involved
entering transactions on the database the picking packing and shipping. I have always been a fan of the fulfillment
process. At various times in my career I
have worked at big companies, helping to design and implement optimal processes
for order entry, through the distribution cycle to billing and receipt. On my resume I used to claim to be an IT fulfillment
expert.
But those high flying glory days are long ago and far away. These days I swing on low hanging branches. This opportunity appeared to be
an easy way to get a paid workout and lend some structure to my distinctly
unstructured week. The two women who
interviewed me apparently saw that I was a trustworthy guy who would show up
and get things done. So I accepted the
offer with a modicum of hope and enthusiasm.
However after two weeks of training it became clear that
this was not turning out to be what I had expected. It was a very small operation, with only 2
full timers and only one other part timer ( the Accountant). The physical part of the job – schlepping
boxes of books, packing and filling orders – was relatively easy to learn and
well within my strength and endurance capabilities. After several weeks I had established a
fairly good routine for getting the shipping and stocking work done.
But the job also involved key-entry of order data into a MAC
Filemaker Pro database. This was a customized system that was probably
considered "state of the art" in 1991. It was clunky, and I was slow. The gal who I was reporting to was impatient
with my tedious keyboarding skills and several times during the training, she
would exasperatedly reach over and hit the key that I was searching for. When I told her not to do that, she developed
a scowl that became ever-present when she and I were in the same room.
I have never been very good at labor intensive activities
myself. Perhaps this realization was the motivation for the
role that I enjoyed most in my professional life: helping other people work more efficiently.
Since retiring and entering the world of part-time work, I have had to come
to terms with the realization that employers were not looking for their
part-timers to be problem solvers or major contributors; they just wanted an
efficient, interchangeable part - An easily replaceable working unit who does
not ask questions or offer suggestions for improvement. Ideally, they’d prefer a robot.
I admit that I am not always patient or compliant. Like most adults, I dislike supervision. I can be stubborn – a tendency which I blame
on my Irish and Dutch genes. There was a
lot of supervision and not much congeniality.
I expected a laid-back atmosphere, but was disappointed to find the
chill of no-nonsense efficiency to be the prevailing wind.
This may sound like a self-serving rationalization for my
decision to quit the job, but after a few weeks, I just did not see things
getting better. One of the chief
reasons I quit my last job (at AAA), was because they would not even discuss the possibility of
improving the process (too costly), and yet they blamed the hapless counter
people for making errors on a system that was neither logical or intuitive. This was pretty much the same situation.
At my age, I feel that I should not endure anything that I
dislike if I can help it. So, it is with little regret
that I say sayonara and good
luck. Every experience is an education;
even if it is not always fun.
Have I given-up on my quest to become usefully employed? No. My
daughter has encouraged me to follow her interests in mediation training. She seems to think that I would enjoy helping
people find solutions to conflicts. I am
giving it serious consideration. I demur,
because the cynical part of my ego suspects that it is too late -- that I have
become a hopelessly grumpy old fart who will never be satisfied with any job.
Hope still lives – I am starting Yoga lessons next
week. Flexibility and inner peace, here
I come!
