As i lamented and you may have discovered, i was unemployed for much longer than i had planned. After being offered two jobs shortly after my arrival i was, perhaps, a bit too confident. Issues with social security cards did not help and my temporary intentions also did not assist. Nonetheless, i have now been working for four weeks and have something to share from my initial weeks.
There are always pressures when beginning a new job. Although I might handle it better than most, I am definitely not immune to it. There was also an added pressure seeing as my new boss was also my landlord and father of my girlfriend.
First off, before you begin laughing, yes, my position is in accounts. The industry which i promised myself i would never, under any circumstances, re-enter except to let some neat, clean-cut accountant with jelly beans on his desk assist me with my bulging finances due to future successes! At least, in this position, I am not taking care of other people's business or rude clients. Yet.
I was introduced to my supervisor, who fit the stereotype of accountant with aplomb and then given a tour of the factory. - half of which was off-site. It soon became apparent that my boss/landlord/father of my girlfriend had to go elsewhere to a meeting and i would be trust to drive his car back. I acted cool, put on a brave face. But this was make or break. I had driven a bit but was not overly confident in the land of the free right hand turn. We had not travelled far but i was not too sure how to get back...
As per the stereotype, everything in America is bigger and fatter. Cars are no exception. Depending how well you know me, you may recall that my previous car was a often described as "cute". It was a zippy little Rav4 and i could see the back and the front.
I jumped in the old, long, wide car and sank into the seat. I felt like a kid in his Dad's suit. Slowly, carefully, i crawled in reverse so as to not hit the cars on either side or the tree behind me. Hopefully this would just go quickly and without incident. It was the middle of the day so why would anyone be on the road?
I wanted to be cautious but Mum's words rang in my head. "The quick and the dead". She had received that instruction from her father when learning to drive and, essentially, it meant you need to make a decision and stick to it. Do not hesitate. I saw an opening and went for it. With ample time. The road was fraught with danger in the form of bikes, cars and trains so I kept a wide berth with my boat-like car and made sure to be smooth and slow. After five minutes that felt like an eternity, I made it back and parked with some success.
In my opinion, automatics are more difficult to drive. I do not ever feel in control and it feels like i am not doing anything at all. There is definitely more controlled practice required!
The job itself is a means to an end at the moment but hopefully grows into something I take more ownership with. Accounts does put me off (and to sleep). It is monotonous and methodical and leaves very little to creativity or the imagination. Irrespective, it feels great to be working, learning new skills and being paid! I am determined to not slack off, to do my best and ensure all my duties are performed to an exceptional level. After all, i am not just trying to impress my boss but the owner of the car i am driving, my landlord and my girlfriend's father as well!
Saturday, 20 July 2013
Friday, 12 July 2013
Gratuitous Service
Due to the US slave wage labour laws, gratuity is understandably a big deal. In the service industry, there is potential to earn a substantial amount of money in tips to complement the pittance of a wage. Such a pittance that it really only covers the taxes.
Accordingly, i have experienced very good service and have more easily noticed bad service. One customer has the potential to give you more than an hours pay simply because you were bubbly, passionate or smiling. Back home, we would probably say it was for doing your job. With this 'bonus' earning possibility, I cannot fathom how anyone would not provide spritely, sweet service in every situation. Amazingly this is not the case. I have experienced poor to awful service numerous times and i just do not know why. Depending on the industry, I will probably tip, at least a small amount, all the time. However, I refuse to reward rude employees or sour servers. Tips need to be a reward for going above and beyond and a lack of tips should be indicator that your work is not top shelf or that your moxie lacks a punch.
Whilst checking in to an airport, I noticed a "gratuities accepted" sign near the line up. It was an express line outside of the actual airport but the usual check-in was still an option. This seems awfully gratuitous to me for who, in their right mind, would refuse tips if they were offered? In the USA, this type of sign is akin to a homeless person with a sign saying "will accept change". I also believe that the proclamation places added pressure on the employee. In my case, I would tip if the service was acceptable. Heck it should be exceptional for gratuities to be suggested with such an easy job.
Alas, the man really did nothing to deserve it. There was limited eye contact, no small talk and he asked me "give me your ID" in an aggressive manner. The only small talk made was not with me but rather his colleague, complaining about their jobs. No doubt this would have been enough to put anyone off even considering tipping.
I understand the importance of tipping in America but do not believe that it should be treated as a given. Rather a reward for spreading happiness and doing a decent job. Treating every customer with respect and enthusiasm will ensure that karma congratulates you somewhere down the track. You may even luck out and be spoilt by a tequila soaked Australian cricket team on an end of season trip...
Accordingly, i have experienced very good service and have more easily noticed bad service. One customer has the potential to give you more than an hours pay simply because you were bubbly, passionate or smiling. Back home, we would probably say it was for doing your job. With this 'bonus' earning possibility, I cannot fathom how anyone would not provide spritely, sweet service in every situation. Amazingly this is not the case. I have experienced poor to awful service numerous times and i just do not know why. Depending on the industry, I will probably tip, at least a small amount, all the time. However, I refuse to reward rude employees or sour servers. Tips need to be a reward for going above and beyond and a lack of tips should be indicator that your work is not top shelf or that your moxie lacks a punch.
Whilst checking in to an airport, I noticed a "gratuities accepted" sign near the line up. It was an express line outside of the actual airport but the usual check-in was still an option. This seems awfully gratuitous to me for who, in their right mind, would refuse tips if they were offered? In the USA, this type of sign is akin to a homeless person with a sign saying "will accept change". I also believe that the proclamation places added pressure on the employee. In my case, I would tip if the service was acceptable. Heck it should be exceptional for gratuities to be suggested with such an easy job.
Alas, the man really did nothing to deserve it. There was limited eye contact, no small talk and he asked me "give me your ID" in an aggressive manner. The only small talk made was not with me but rather his colleague, complaining about their jobs. No doubt this would have been enough to put anyone off even considering tipping.
I understand the importance of tipping in America but do not believe that it should be treated as a given. Rather a reward for spreading happiness and doing a decent job. Treating every customer with respect and enthusiasm will ensure that karma congratulates you somewhere down the track. You may even luck out and be spoilt by a tequila soaked Australian cricket team on an end of season trip...
Tuesday, 9 July 2013
Are You Being Served?
Well, no actually. Unfortunately, there was no Mr Humphries or Captain Peacock to keep me entertained as i tried to acquire a social security card but i suppose i should have predicted the troubles at US Citizen & Immigration Services given the experiences i had at the various other offices and departments of redundancy which i had visited.
I am not one to generalise but staff in these departments are unfriendly, petty and authoritarian. Why can we not have mobile phones on? It is not like we are going to fall out of the sky. Self important looking people in ties and lanyards wander aimlessly saying hello to each other and security. Without a doubt there would be a coffee machine involved there somewhere too.
Waiting in a large room with phones off limits and no form of entertainment, you find yourself almost aggressively people watching. Alas, there is nothing to watch as everyone is in the same situation as you. Eyes flickering from side to side searching for movement, color or something out of the ordinary. Please! Please!! Anything out of the ordinary!
The security guards are not overly impressive. Especially when compared to the rough Pacific Islanders stationed outside of Justin Hemmes' establishments back home. These guys are smaller, not muscly and quite old. To be frank, you wonder how much use they would be in any sort of security breach. Then you remember. Guns. These people would be trigger-trained, trigger-happy and champing at the bit to be able to brandish their second amendment rights. No, i will not be making any smart alec responses to their cold, unsympathetic statements. The only tish to follow the boom from my joke would be from the sound of my lifeless body hitting the floor.
Finally mu number flashed up on the screen. It is certainly inefficient to have such a big waiting room, beginning to fill up, and only two windows in operation. Unfortunately waiting goes hand in hand with government departments everywhere in the world. The man serving me confirmed my worries that he could not fix my issue in any way, shape or form but he did give me the name of a new department to make an appointment with. He repeatedly asked me if i was sure i was here on a work visa. He asked me enough times that i almost wanted to change my answer and say "No, i just like waiting in lines." But i am afraid he would have shot me.
This epic journey to acquire a social security number is beginning to be a bit too much for me. Perhaps if i went straight to the top of the food chain and sent an email to the POTUS, stating my case, he would rectify things and maybe even come out for a beer. "Dear Barry Obama..."
**Writer's Note: Since this blog was drafted, i visited another department which was not very friendly, but a little helpful. They gave me a private government number which i was lambasted for calling and then finally i just applied again for my number with my new entry card. And it arrived within a week. Simple as that... there you go.
I am not one to generalise but staff in these departments are unfriendly, petty and authoritarian. Why can we not have mobile phones on? It is not like we are going to fall out of the sky. Self important looking people in ties and lanyards wander aimlessly saying hello to each other and security. Without a doubt there would be a coffee machine involved there somewhere too.
Waiting in a large room with phones off limits and no form of entertainment, you find yourself almost aggressively people watching. Alas, there is nothing to watch as everyone is in the same situation as you. Eyes flickering from side to side searching for movement, color or something out of the ordinary. Please! Please!! Anything out of the ordinary!
The security guards are not overly impressive. Especially when compared to the rough Pacific Islanders stationed outside of Justin Hemmes' establishments back home. These guys are smaller, not muscly and quite old. To be frank, you wonder how much use they would be in any sort of security breach. Then you remember. Guns. These people would be trigger-trained, trigger-happy and champing at the bit to be able to brandish their second amendment rights. No, i will not be making any smart alec responses to their cold, unsympathetic statements. The only tish to follow the boom from my joke would be from the sound of my lifeless body hitting the floor.
Finally mu number flashed up on the screen. It is certainly inefficient to have such a big waiting room, beginning to fill up, and only two windows in operation. Unfortunately waiting goes hand in hand with government departments everywhere in the world. The man serving me confirmed my worries that he could not fix my issue in any way, shape or form but he did give me the name of a new department to make an appointment with. He repeatedly asked me if i was sure i was here on a work visa. He asked me enough times that i almost wanted to change my answer and say "No, i just like waiting in lines." But i am afraid he would have shot me.
This epic journey to acquire a social security number is beginning to be a bit too much for me. Perhaps if i went straight to the top of the food chain and sent an email to the POTUS, stating my case, he would rectify things and maybe even come out for a beer. "Dear Barry Obama..."
**Writer's Note: Since this blog was drafted, i visited another department which was not very friendly, but a little helpful. They gave me a private government number which i was lambasted for calling and then finally i just applied again for my number with my new entry card. And it arrived within a week. Simple as that... there you go.
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