BrewBlog

Mothership Journey (part 4)

The final installment...

Mothership Landing

My first day working at what I’ll affectionately call the “Mothership” was a half day class designed to introduce new employees to the company and show them the ropes.  First, we were given a bunch of paperwork to look through and sent on our way.  The admin for my department was supposed to meet me outside the classroom and show me to my desk.  No such luck.  All the other kids had an admin come get them but I was on my own in this gigantic mini-city comprised of many acres of buildings that all looked exactly alike.  The buildings are numbered and have names based on general location in accordance to the world.  We had five buildings and my present location was somewhere on the first floor of building number five.  I knew from my brief conversation with my new boss a few weeks prior that my desk was somewhere in building number one, on the second floor.  The other piece of information I had was my pole number, whatever the hell that was supposed to be.  The pole number looked to be some kind of code that needed deciphering, part of the class I probably slept through. 

A few days prior to my first day, I went to the Mothership to get some HR related paperwork with all my official benefits information and stuff.  I was also supposed to meet by new boss, Becky, in the cafeteria in building number two.  That was easy enough to find.  Naturally, based on what had been beaten into my head going through school, I dressed in professional attire.  Wearing one of my new suits, I was ready for whatever was coming in meeting my new manager.  We met in a big cafeteria and Becky easily found me because I stuck out like a sore thumb.  I stuck out like a sore thumb because I was the only person of the several thousands there that was wearing a suit and tie.  We introduced ourselves and sat down.  “There’s Andy”, Becky says to me knowing my story.  My meeting with her was my first official meeting at the Mothership and still among the most interesting ever.  She gave me an overview of what our department, Information Technology Marketing and Communications (IT MarComm), was and what we did.  Then she asked me what I wanted to do.  Hoping for some choices and not getting them, my answer was something along the lines of “Um, not sure.  I don’t know.”  How would I, anyway?  What was done day to day, I was wondering to myself, instead of asking.  She had some ideas of what my job function was going to be and attempted to explain it to me.  My title was “Marketing Specialist” and I was the first one of those.  Cherie created a brand new job and Becky was in charge of figuring out what it was going to be.  The other key conversation we had went like this:

“Don’t ever come to work in a suit again.”
“Okay, no Problem.”
“You’re making me nervous dressed like that.”

So now let’s get back to being stranded in building number five after my orientation.  For several minutes, I stood in the hallway thinking through my next move with my brand new work badge clipped to my casual clothing.  The badge was to be worn at all times, while on the premises, for the rest of my life.  The casual dress code was so very nice.  Not having to wear a suit and tie kicked ass and I liked my job already.  Also, I was making more money standing in the hall wondering where to go next than scooping beans, renting movies, flipping burgers or hosing down fiberboard particles with deadly, poisonous and contaminated pond water.  Stay in school kids.  Eventually, I decided to head to the general direction of building number one and try to figure out where my office was.  On the way, the admin that was supposed to come get me passed right on by, but I of course didn’t realize it because we had never met. 

After eventually finding where my cubicle was by deciphering the “pole number” code, I began to get settled in.  My 10’ X 10’ cubicle was ready for me.  I had two desks, two chairs and a big filing cabinet.  I had my fancy phone and of course, the all-important computer, where most of my important work would take place.  The computer was an IBM desktop PC.  They called them Express boxes and I don’t know why because they were in no hurry, that’s for sure.  The coolest thing of all though was my new office starter kit that was sitting on my desk.  This thing had a new stapler, scotch tape dispenser, pens and all kinds of new office supplies.  I love office supplies.  After sniffing everything in the box at least once, I neatly organized my desk about six different times.  Then I took my blank pad of paper that I brought and the binder from class and set them in the filing cabinet, causing an echo that could be heard throughout the building.  Putting two things into an otherwise empty and oversized file cabinet was ridiculous.  The cubical itself was old.  The fabric walls were a gross kind of orange and beige combination.  The cubical, carpet, desks and chairs had to be over ten years old, at least.  Of course, this didn’t matter to me in the slightest.

The department admin came back after finding that I had strayed from class and found me admiring my cubical.  She was out of breath and apologizing for leaving me abandoned.  She immediately gave me my network login information and temporary passwords as well as showed me how to use the complex voicemail system.  She quickly went elsewhere, off to do something else in a hurry.  Becky was out for the afternoon so I was more or less on my own. 

Most of the day was spent sitting in my chair and staring at my surroundings.  After making sure it was possible to spin all the way around in my chair, which was cool, I discovered that I could sit on my desk and freely swing my legs back and forth.  Pacing is a serious habit of mine when on the phone so I was pleased to see that I had plenty of phone cord.  There was half dozen feet or so to walk before I had to turn around and head the other direction.  My initial assessment was that I was going to be okay confined to this space for an ungodly number of hours, possibly forever.  Then I rearranged my office supplies a few more times.  I think I moved my trash can around a few times as well.  Intimidation began to set in, as there was nothing productive for me to do right off the bat.  The bigness of the whole thing was a trip.  I sat there the rest of the afternoon, unsure about what to do next.  Everybody that walked by my cubicle peered in out of curiosity, checking out the new person.  Everybody around me was older, too. 

I knew nothing about information technology but I still had all the stupid Remanco numbers in my head from Chevy’s.  I did not know anything about HTML but I knew that 111 was a beef fajita.  I had no clue about configuring secure I.D.’s and remote access connectoids but was certain that 42 was a Reynosa dinner combo.  Could I make sense of the cc:Mail architecture and instance design?  Nope.  But I could list all eight Mexican beers and their respective Remanco codes from memory.  This was an enormous change for me and my life was going to be different from here on out.  Things were not only going to be more interesting and challenging but I also had my own, real benefits finally.  Salary and a retirement plan were a new part of my life, like a grown up.  A consistent paycheck was not something you got as a waiter or hourly wage employee so it was nice to be able have predictable income. 

Fortunately, friends were easy to make at work, being a new member of a particularly social group.  My immediate department only had about ten people in it, although hundreds of others in my building, and thousands across the campus surrounded me.  Becky told me that I would be primarily working with someone named Celeste.  When she introduced us, I was surprised to see that Celeste was not a black woman with a phony, although cool accent, working for Stefano.  Then I remembered that “Days of Our Lives” was not real, nor was I in Salem.  Celeste was very cool and quickly became my mentor.  She explained things to me in detail and taught me a lot during my early days.  She was easy to work and talk with.  Celeste became my friend and even ended up being my manager for quite a while. 

The last day of my first week at work, a group of us from the Mothership went out for happy hour.  An engineering named Neil was nice enough to welcome me to the group by inviting me out for a few beers.  Actually, it was more than a few beers.  Neil was great and we quickly became friends.  Luckily, I was beginning to fit in and get comfortable.  Ann was someone else whom I became friends with quickly.  Ann, like Neil, was around my age so we had several things in common.  Neil, Ann and Celeste made my early days at the Mothership tolerable and it was lucky for me to be in such a fun group.

Mothership Journey (part 3)

The next chapter of my journey...

Who Moved My Beans?

The call I had been anxiously awaiting for finally came.  The rush when the human resources person called me was extraordinary.  They woke me up one morning, calling to deliver my offer over the phone.  I could not accept fast enough.  An enormous weight lifted and the idea of being a professional was very exciting indeed.  What a huge and life changing opportunity.  The smile from my face was not removable. 

This great opportunity also meant that my days of scooping beans were very much numbered.  After immediately putting in my two weeks notice at Chevy’s, I completed my final shifts and it was all over in a flash.  Each bean scooped had more significance than those before because the train was finally here to take me to the next town.  My last day at Chevy’s was special; I received two cards signed by everyone in the restaurant as well as several gifts.  My last day at work consisted of sipping a margarita at the bar.  After six and a half years at Chevy’s, I was done. 

My time at Chevy’s was a very important one.  I developed many good friendships and several relationships as well as supported myself through my entire college life.  My reason for leaving was perhaps among the most significant benefits I received from my time at Chevy’s.  My connection to Cherie because of the restaurant was huge and the direct link to the start of my new career.  That first job and first step past college can be so hard and everybody’s experience with it is a little different.  Some have no problem at all and some never overcome it, ever.  My struggle only lasted six months and it was over because someone gave me a chance. 

Mothership Journey (part 2)

More about my mothership journey...

Thank You!  Thank You!  Thank You!

Among all the fun of that time in my life, the "get a job you loser" feeling was nagging me.  After several pointless interviews and failed, futile attempts to land a decent job, a great opportunity presented itself.  We had some regulars at Chevy's that came in at least once a week and religiously sat, by request, in either Lesley, Eric or my section.  Andy and Cherie were a great married couple we always looked forward to coming into Chevy's because they were a pleasure to serve.  They had a little girl and around that time, a newborn baby.  They had been coming in for years and all three of us gave them special attention because we liked them and they treated us well.  We knew what they wanted and how they wanted it.  The little girl knew us and was always excited to see us. 

One night, while talking with them, I candidly asked if they had any suggestions about where I may look for a job.  Cherie asked me what I wanted to do and I explained my recent graduation with a business degree and wasn't sure yet as to what I wanted to do.  She asked me to bring in my resume and she would give me some pointers.  They were predictable with their coming in so I was ready the next time they stopped by for dinner.  I gave her my resume and then she brought it back on another visit, marked up with suggestions.  Then, she asked me if I was at all interested in marketing.  She worked in the Information Technology Marketing department in a big company in the nearby city.  My eyes lit up and an enthusiastic answer of "I'm definitely interested" flew out of my mouth without even thinking too much about it.  She replied with the words of everlasting encouragement and joy of "I may be able work something out for you", or something like that.  The words themselves weren't what was important, rather the meaning behind them.  I was looking at the possibility of getting a real job at a great company.  Holy shit!  At that moment, it was as if a ray of hope had penetrated the seemingly permanent and hopeless black cloud of the dreaded “job hunt”.  My lack of skills and zero experience was not going to limit me to beans and salsa as feared.

A few days later, a call woke me up at around noon on a beautiful December Sunday.  Pretending as though I had already been up for hours, I tried to put an alert tone in my voice when I heard Cherie’s voice on the other end.  She was in the process of drafting a new position in her IT Marketing group and wanted to run the job description by me.  Of course, the description sounded fantastic and things were getting exciting.  The only caveats were that they were in a hiring freeze that was supposed to be coming to an end and that Cherie and her family were moving to take a new job within the company.  This meant that the job requisition would need to be approved and dispositioned before she made her move.  Weeks could go by before I knew anything for sure.  I could only hope and pray that I could get this opportunity.  Time would tell.

Mothership Journey (part 1)

Beginning today, I thought I would share my journey to the Mothership in a series of posts directly referencing excepts from my autobiography, "Thanks for Coming In".  The Mothership is my generic reference to a corporate type job.  I've been with the Mothership for almost ten years now and times have never been more difficult than they are now.  Pending layoffs have people worried and feeling uneasy.  Anyway, let's go back in time ten years and take a walk down memory lane....

A Guy Can Only Scoop So Many Beans

As summer winded down I was facing the pressures of getting a career going.  Everybody always insists that the sooner you get a "real" job after getting a degree the better.  Otherwise, you look unmotivated and slackish.  Facing the whole "getting a job" thing really, really sucked for me as I'm sure it does for most.  Scooping beans was getting on my nerves but I absolutely dreaded the idea of suiting up and going job hunting.  All I had managed up to that point was doing my stupid resume.  I really felt like I was just another jackass college graduate with no real, marketable skills.  I could just hear myself in all the interviews I was facing.

“I can scoop bean real well.  My strengths include discerning red from green sauce, pronouncing 'chili rellano' properly and doing a rollup so well.  You could throw it against the wall as hard as you could and all the silverware would remain intact within the napkin.  Oh yeah, I can kick the plastic window out of the swingy door and deliver a devastating palm thrust to a helpless drink tray, rendering it permanently bent and unusable.  Plus, I'm very comfortable hiding margaritas from the management while working.  Finally, blatant and direct insubordination is my specialty.  You can count on me to do whatever I want, whenever I want, no matter what.  Certainly you have a high paying job, strong benefits package included, with my name written all over it".

Almost everybody else was in the same boat, though.  I was enjoying just working 20 or so hours a week and not having to deal with school.  Growing up you always hear about how things get a lot more difficult and to enjoy life now, while it’s easy.  That's a bunch of bullshit since nothing seemed more difficult than working and going to school full time for several years, with no real break.  Just working without going to school was much, much easier.

Looking for a job was as unfulfilling and unrewarding as anticipated.  Since I had no real plan or solid concept of what I wanted to do, I began at the school career center, which I had access to for several months after graduating.  That seemed to turn up many low paying, sales type jobs.  The idea of selling something was truly awful to me.  Sales were definitely not my forte.  A sale would likely go as follows:   

“Well sir, I definitely think this product is definitely right for you.” 
“I don't think so.”
“Okay, whatever, asshole.”

Interviewing sucked.  Some of the prospective jobs didn't appeal to me at all and a few of them paid less than my current job at Chevy's.  The two or three I liked didn't grant me follow up interviews.  I did have an interview for a job working at the corporate office for a retail clothing establishment doing something along the lines of product selection.  I had to go to San Francisco for a daylong orientation followed by a solid day of interviewing.  People from all over the country flew in for this thing.  The night after orientation and before the day of interviews, I drove some of the out of town interviewees into the downtown area of San Francisco for some bar hopping.  A few others took a bus and we all met at a bar on Broadway, which was the highlight of the whole experience.  The interviews the next day were long, boring and draining.  About one in three were going to get called back.  One of the three wasn’t me. 

The job thing sucked and the sucking weighed heavily on me.  Chevy's was losing its appeal since the job pressure was building and I was more and more feeling like a loser.  At this point, my degree was already five months old and there was still no solid strategy or budding interest in anything at all.  Grown up life was waiting for me but I was running late.