Trials and Tributions Ending?

I’ve struggled with the decision to write about my last two positions for the past 3 months because at least one of my audience still work there. The reason I post today? I’ve finally come to peace with the realization that they have already written their ending to my story. The rub? It may be completely different scenes than the ones I experienced. So here goes nothing…..

The Advertisement

I found the position for Document Production Specialist nestled in a multitude of job emails. I was flabbergasted; this sort of position is pretty specialized, and you don’t see them advertised much. It was for a large environmental engineering firm, a field I was desperately trying to get back to. I remember reading the job description off my phone to Kathi, who was absolutely supportive in her assertions that I apply immediately – now- and wait for the call. “You know you’re qualified for it. When they read your résumé, they’ll know it, too. Just do it. Don’t think about it; act on it.” (Indeed, Kathi had worked with them in Canada and enjoyed her time there immensely, which she sensed was a good omen.)

Of course, as fate would have it, my cell got turned off later that day (it was 3 days late) - thankfully, after I applied online. As a rule, I never checked my email at the shelter, but once I realized my phone was off for non-payment, I started having to check it there daily. Just 3 days later, I got an email; they had tried multiple times to call, but weren’t able to leave voicemails. The email directed me to call to set up an interview. I could not believe my good fortune. After I returned the call and the interview date was arranged, I went straightaway to tell Kathi – she was such a cheerleader and great friend to me.

The Interview

The shelter helped to bolster my confidence which I think reflected well on my recent illustriously hideous job history. As someone who had 6-, 7-, and 3‑year positions on my résumé, these little temporary positions – well, they weren’t easy on the eyes. I was brutally honest to interviewer Sharon and to Faith, an over-40 woman that I bonded with over shared 80s culture and a who’s who of the local environmental personalities we’d both worked with. In fact, I might have even teared up a bit, recalling the horror of the last few months of my life. I remember mentioning that I was looking forward to having insurance again, which took them a bit off-guard, I think.

I distinctly remember feeling “this is what it’s *supposed to* feel like in an interview” as everything I said was natural and unforced, honest, sometimes achingly close to home. I remember relaying how close I was to finishing school – at that point, I was just 5 classes shy of my Bachelors of Science in Communication. I remember that it just felt right. It’s an elusive feeling – one I’ve felt only a handful of times before and since – but difficult to describe. I knew I was hitting it out of the park, a home run. Further proof of how well I was doing was Sharon and Faith taking me into Sharon’s office and Sharon printing out the benefits package. Surely, they wouldn’t have taken the time or effort to show me that if I wasn’t doing well, right?!

I went back to the shelter and told Kathi how it had gone. She was in all-out cheering mode – relaying her positive experiences with the firm. I felt the timing of the job offer couldn’t have been more fortuitous – just over a week left of my short-term position, set to end December 31^st. Then came the wait. I knew it wouldn’t happen immediately – logistically, it was December and they were a large firm. Theoretically, I understood. But inside I was jello, doubting myself and my “feelings” for the next 4 days.

On the 5^th day, Faith called and asked to meet me to give me the paperwork for drug testing. Legally, she couldn’t say anything about whether or not I had the position until I had been drug tested. So I took the afternoon off and immediately tested. The testing facility assured me that the results would be back to the employer within 24 hours.

The very next day – 24 hours to the dot – Sharon called me to extend the job offer. The icing on the cake was the hourly rate – it would start me very close to the money I had made at my longest gig, Water & Air. After I accepted, Sharon said she would print out an offer letter which I would be expected to sign my first day of work, December 30^th. After the call ended, I did the Cabbage Patch dance at my desk in the Adoption Center, drawing raised eyebrows from browsing adopters. Kathi and Janet took me to dinner that night and we celebrated at Applebee’s.

This day last year – this exact date, actually! – I started working there. I was very excited because it was not only back in my realm of comfort – environmental engineering -– it was something I had found on my own, outside of the temporary world. It was a real position, listed as temp- to perm-, and I was going for it. The trials and tribulations of the past 8 months were coming to an end. 

Sooooo Not A Motorcycle.....

At the furniture showroom, during my first week, I met Harley. Harley was a distinguished gentleman....he had a hearing aid and had gray hair, had incredibly funny inappropriate jokes, and I just knew we were gonna be good friends.

Harley was an installer - that means he was one of the guys that loaded the furniture onto a truck, made sure he had all the tools to get the job done, got to the job site, greeted the clients, unloaded the furniture, put it all together, and made sure the clients were happy before he left. And Harley was no spring chicken - but he had amazing strength and a great manner with the clients. (Many of our return clients specifically requested him.) 

One of many things I learned at the showroom was that furniture came in pieces. (Silly me! I thought that chairs, desks, and tables came in assembled. OOO Lordy, was I wrong! A desk can have a dozen or so parts that, together, make it complete. Even chairs - who'da thunk it?! - come in unassembled.) Part of our job was making sure we had all the pieces to put it together (like Humpty Dumpty). ; - )

So my job, as an Administrative Sales Administrator, was to create quotes for clients. Then, if they approved the quote, I turned the quote into an order. Then, as part of the ordering process, I scheduled the delivery for the client. Lastly, I emailed the client to let them know when they could expect to see us on-site for delivery and setup. 

Once the parts were received on-site - generally a week ahead of our install date - they were checked for accuracy against our order. If there were any problems, like parts were missing, or something got damaged in shipment - that week's delay allowed us time to proactively "fix it" before it got to the client. 

Generally, the day of the install, Harley would place his calls to clients - letting them know what his schedule for the day looked like and juggling times if he could. 

I told you all that about the "biz" - so I could relate this. Harley came to see me every morning before he went out on the road and every evening when he came back (unless he was doing a late install). He did it in such a manner that I thought he was just checking with me and the other Admins to say hi.

I didn't think anything of it until one day Stephanie joked with him that he was "just checking on his girlfriend," and shot a look back at me. What? Huh?! The man was older, married, and we were just friends. Period. What was she talking about? Harley didn't bat an eyelash, just threw some attitude back to her. 

Lo and behold, later that same week, Harley asked me if I was on Facebook. I was - and I am - and so, after work we friended each other and that was when I really "met" Harley. Whoa! The guy was hysterical - private as all heck - but lonely. He and his wife had been married a long time - 25 years! I just want to stop this train right here: we were - and are - just friends. 

We talked on Facebook - after work - for hours, about anything and everything. I related my "sob story" as by then, I'd labeled it. He talked about his age in this industry (he was 68) - and the fact that he wasn't working because he "needed" the money - he had built he and his wife a comfortable nest egg. As an ADD/HD sufferer, Harley just needed to keep moving. He told me that he had quit before - all of a month! - but found himself going stir crazy at home so he went back to work. 'Nuff said.

In one of our discussions, Harley said that Stephanie had mentioned to him - more than once - that she knew he liked me and what was he gonna do about it? Harley told her that yes, we were friends, and essentially told her to back off (in a totally polite, yet irreverent way). He gave me a little backstory on Stephanie, too.

It seems our down-to-earth, God-fearing, yet tattooed Stephanie was a reformed "bad girl." In fact, it turns out that her oldest daughter is the product of a relationship with a jailed boyfriend. So Stephanie the bad girl projects her inner badness to Harley by thinking that he is going to throw away 25 years of marriage by having an affair with a much-younger Admin. (Stephanie, by the way, is now happily married to a fellow that she met in bible study.)

He goes on to tell me that he is also getting raised eyebrows, spoken comments, and written comments on his Facebook profile from the other admin - Cyndy - too. It seems that Cyndy is a born-again upstanding Christian woman and worries that he has ulterior motives for his daily visits to us. 

(You remember Cyndy from my earlier posts, right?) The woman who was "much too busy to help me" - *E*V*E*R*...... 

So we nipped them both in the bud. He unfriended Cyndy from his Facebook profile and began stopping by just once a day. We continued our discussions on Facebook, building a friendship - away from prying eyes. 

When I got fired, he was floored. He had no inkling of Stephanie's plan.

But Harley would turn out to be another great part of 2013; a true friend, one of a handful who truly came through for me when I was at my absolute lowest point.