By Steve Levandoski
Let's face it. If you are a musician you will probably never make enough money to pay the rent on that 2-bedroom apartment you share with 8 other people. IF you are lucky enough to get signed, the little money the record company doesn't screw you out of will be squandered on MC Hammer-type mansions (he's doing credit card commercials now), or tied up in some lawsuit. You will need to get a shitjob. I've enjoyed the privilege of having and losing about thirty different jobs in the four years since I dropped out of college. This is my guide for al you young bloods out there. Each issue will feature a different job I once had in chronological order,and how to take advantage of it while it takes advantage of you.
After moving to Philadelphia into a cockroach-ridden apartment in West Philly, I said to myself ‘Shit I need me a j-o-b’. So I looked into the City Paper and the first ad in the help wanted really spoke to me. It said that there was an opening for a motivated individual (fuck it I’ve lied before) to work for creating a better environment. Now, I’m by no means a hippy, but I like hippies in that they know how to party. Plus if you work with hippies, you know that you aren’t really working that hard. So I called the number for Clean Water Action, and was given directions to the interview at their office in Center City.
A little background information on Steve here. You see, I never was to any city other than the metropolis of Lancaster, and this was the first time I ever rode a subway. It was smelled bad. It still does. I got off at thirtieth and Market. I was amazed at the size of the buildings. Then I remembered the words of my roommate Mike. (He was from Long Island and more street wise than me.) ‘Steve”, said Mike,’ What ever you do don’t stand there and stare at the top of the buildings like a jackass. You’re gonna get mugged”. So I stopped staring and headed to the address at 13th and Walnut. I was interviewed by this older hippy dude, told him a bunch of bullshit about how I though recycling was were it was at, and he told me I was ready to go out on a training day.
I showed up and got into a van with all these tofu-eating bastards. They were weird. They would do all these chants and punch the roof of the van to psyche themselves up. I wasn’t into it. Its was creepy, man. (I made a mental note to myself. If they offer me Kool-Aid, I will remember not to drink the Kool-Aid. See ‘Jim Jones’). Then they did an exercise where they would quote a song lyric that they found to be inspirational. I forget if we had to punch the ceiling of the van after quoting it, but I think we did. They were all about punching that roof. Somehow all the songs they liked sucked ass. I quoted the Smiths with “I was looking for a job and then I found a job, and heaven knows I’m miserable now”. The hippies didn’t think that was funny. Not even a little bit. I sure did.
The van stopped at this rich suburb of Philly. I refuse to say which one, mostly because I don’t remember. Then I got paired up with this chick that was a trainer. She was nice enough. Then we went up to our first door. She knocked and no one was home. Someone was home at the second door. She then went into her speech. (I was supposed to memorize it the night before, but I decided that TV was way cooler.) “Hi I’m Janet from Clean Water Action. We were here to get you to sign a petition against the further pollution of our drinking water. Did you know that water (insert bodies of water here) contains (percents and math stuff), because of (insert name of Republican senator)? This needs to stop. Blah blah blah.” Then the dude signed the bill. I was like, this job is so cool, and I’m making a positive difference, and earning money. This has got to be too good to be true. There had to be a catch.
So here was the catch. After the dude signed the bill, she hit him up for a donation. She badgered him like a bum at a Wawa, until he caved. Then she tried to pry more out of him. After she was done soliciting him, we walked away. She said, “Cool I just made fifty bucks. Just another hundred and I make quota. You see, the scam was, if you make quota every day, you get to keep your job. You were basically just begging people for money. No wonder so many hippies worked there. (On the drive home I saw one of the guys who missed quota by a couple bucks looking like he was gonna have a nervous breakdown).
I knew the job was not for me right then and there, but I had to play along, since they were my ride home. I was sent off on my own to hit up a block. The first door I knocked on, an old lady with a walker answered, then screamed at me for making her come all the way downstairs. Most of the housed were owned by Republicans (go figure), and they told me to fuck off in not so many words. No wait, actually I do think someone told me to fuck off with those exact certain words. The only money I actually made was when I went to the house of someone who worked as a manager at Clean Water Action. I guess they do pretty well, since she lived on the same block as the rich republicans. I guess she felt guilty. Needless to say I didn’t go back, but since I was “training” they didn’t pay me. What a scam.
Here are the past issues, in case you missed them or need to review:
January 2006 Security Guard, Part Six (The Turf Club Final Installment.. )
September 2005 Security Guard, Part Five
July 2005 Security Guard, Part Four
April 2005 Security Guard, Part Three
February 2005 Security Guard, Part Two
January 2005 Security Guard, Part One
December 2004 Headhunter
November 2004 Christopher's Bakery
September 2004 Bike Messenger
June 2004 Hospitality Staffing
March 2004 A new Temp Agency for Steve!
February 2004 The Civil Service scam
January 2004 I Become a Trainer
December 2003 Clean Water Action
November 2003 More Office Bullshit
September 2003 The Office Job
June 2003 Brick Factory
March 2003 Carter's Children's Ware
February 2003 Isaac's
December 2002 The Conclusion of The Incinerator
October 2002 The Incinerator Three
August 2002 The Incinerator, part 2
July 2002 The Incinerator
June 2002 Data Entry Yoni Style
May 2002 The Microchip Factory
April 2002 The Demolition Man
March 2002 MXL-Safety Glass Sweatshop
February 2002 Flagging
January 2002 Temp Agencies
November 2001 Corporate Movie Theater
August 2001 K-mart
Don't miss Steve's other regular column: Steve's Not Having It