100 Love Letters I'll Never Send (What was your fall from Grace?) Experience not required temporary employment...(C) 2017
He needed money desperately after getting fired from his job. He hasn't heard from his girl in three days that seem like a month.
I showed up there at the Labor Needs (24 hour waged) job facility at five thirty in the morning. There were about thirty people there. I filled out the job application. From some of the questions asked I thought this was the bottom of the barrel (this is where you go to get money when you have no place else to go). The chances of pay are probably more favorable then panhandling or begging for money. In a distance I heard some one talking about how they get $50. dollars a day from donating blood at the plasma center. The questions supported my thoughts that this was the bottom of the barrel. Questions like "Have you ever committed a felony?" "Have you ever stolen from an employer?""How many days a week do you take recreational drugs?"-that one had a scale of 0 to 7 days a week. "Do you have any nicknames?"-then in small print underneath the questions it read "These factors don't disqualify you from employment.""Do you have dependable transportation?" "How many days are you available to work?"
After I finished filling it out I handed it back to the lady behind a glass case.
"We need an identification car. Don't worry if you don't have it today..." she says so assumingly and then gives me what sounds like selling points from a script about how great it is to work here.
"I got it." I dig through my wallet. My driver's liscence is slightly dented in from my recovery chip being on top of it.
"Great. I'll be calling out assignments over the speaker."
"Thanks."
I slowly walk back to the front of the building trying not to make direct contact with other people. Terrified and trembling when I think I hear someone say, "Fresh meat."
I stop and stare at a corner in the room. I have been here before.
"Hey kid," I turn around to an older gentleman. He's got on a pair of faded blue jean overalls, a plaid shirt, and a wool knit cap. Long strands of gray hair are underneath.
"Hey," I reply trying to sound tough.
"Come over here," I figured it out this used to be the billboards hall I went to as a teenager.
Reluctantly, I sit by him.
"So what are you doing here?"
"I got fired from my job."
"Yea, there's a lot of that going around. What you have to remember is this is just a job. Most of these folks don't try there best. If you try your best you can get a good job. With that being said, what was your fall from grace?"
"So what was your fall from grace?"
I showed up there at the Labor Needs (24 hour waged) job facility at five thirty in the morning. There were about thirty people there. I filled out the job application. From some of the questions asked I thought this was the bottom of the barrel (this is where you go to get money when you have no place else to go). The chances of pay are probably more favorable then panhandling or begging for money. In a distance I heard some one talking about how they get $50. dollars a day from donating blood at the plasma center. The questions supported my thoughts that this was the bottom of the barrel. Questions like "Have you ever committed a felony?" "Have you ever stolen from an employer?""How many days a week do you take recreational drugs?"-that one had a scale of 0 to 7 days a week. "Do you have any nicknames?"-then in small print underneath the questions it read "These factors don't disqualify you from employment.""Do you have dependable transportation?" "How many days are you available to work?"
After I finished filling it out I handed it back to the lady behind a glass case.
"We need an identification car. Don't worry if you don't have it today..." she says so assumingly and then gives me what sounds like selling points from a script about how great it is to work here.
"I got it." I dig through my wallet. My driver's liscence is slightly dented in from my recovery chip being on top of it.
"Great. I'll be calling out assignments over the speaker."
"Thanks."
I slowly walk back to the front of the building trying not to make direct contact with other people. Terrified and trembling when I think I hear someone say, "Fresh meat."
I stop and stare at a corner in the room. I have been here before.
"Hey kid," I turn around to an older gentleman. He's got on a pair of faded blue jean overalls, a plaid shirt, and a wool knit cap. Long strands of gray hair are underneath.
"Hey," I reply trying to sound tough.
"Come over here," I figured it out this used to be the billboards hall I went to as a teenager.
Reluctantly, I sit by him.
"So what are you doing here?"
"I got fired from my job."
"Yea, there's a lot of that going around. What you have to remember is this is just a job. Most of these folks don't try there best. If you try your best you can get a good job. With that being said, what was your fall from grace?"
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