Think I’ll write an actual blog before James kills me…
The disappointment I inflict upon my friends is just horrible…
Off work this week, how excellent! This week has proven to be a turning point in the ever evolving life of Emma, all for good I think. In realisation of how okay my life is now, I think back to a time of illusion, 12 hours of walking a day and the most brainwashed/ brainwashing group of people I have ever had the chance to meet (bar the religious zombieland that I grew up in.) This will be a rant about a previous job that has been long over due.
On Saturday night I received a phone call from my old friend Ray. Even though he was more than slightly intoxicated, we got onto the topic that brought us together, as always; Skye Marketing. Hatred seeps out of every pore when I even think that I spent so much time actually believing this utter pile of shite.
Skye Marketing is a “company” that advertises products/ other companies by going door to door and pitching to people in the comfort of their own home. Oh sorry, not pitching, it’s a “conversation”. Aye fucking right. ”The most effective form of advertising”… yeah, because we basically just annoy people until they pay us to shut up and leave. Now, as everyone does, I already have an existing hatred towards these types, but after having been brainwashed to think that it is okay, you would think that I would be more sympathetic towards them. Instead, I have developed so much resentment that I almost transform into a firey ball of hatred at the thought of one appearing at my door and would find myself in a sticky situation, pleading insanity in court, after having a “bite the curb, bitch” moment with the next one the approaches me. That and an addiction to American History X. I would like to say I was only joking, that this is but exaggerated for effect but I don’t even really think that I am.
What these people do, and what they do very well, is lure you in with the promise of huge sums of money, travel and a chance to own your own business within 12 months of working there. What was sold to me even more, because I do charity work, was the fact that I would be making money for the British Red Cross through signing people up for ongoing donations of £6.50/ £8.50 a month. Sounds excellent right? Perfect? What you need to rememberis that these people are here to sell things to you. They want nothing from you apart from the larger half of the sum that you have earned by walking about for 12 hours whilst they sit on their cushy chairs at their executive desks and watch their bank ballance rise. Of course they had me sold on this vision of flashy cars and a huge appartment whilst you help people in need get real support for themselves. They are sales people. This is their job.
You might say, well, after a few days of walking around for 12 hours and getting nothing, would you not realise that it was all a lie? A farce? A scam? Nono, nonono, you all don’t realise how easily you are drawn into this. They convince you that, give yourself time, you’ll get good, so good you’ll be making a million quid a day. At the beginning my superior who took me out for the day, basically said at the end that I was perfect for this job, and that he had such high expectations for me. This was the beginning of the trap. High expectations= hard work. Hard work= more money. More money= more power. More power= more women. You get where I’m going. Of course I was perfect for it, and just needed to work. That way I’ll stay long enough to get good.
I’ll describe a normal day, completely average normal day. I start by travelling 19 miles to work, but it would be worth it, because eventually I’ll be earning £100 a day. So I get into my little car, pump it full of petrol, and set out at 9 o’clock to arrive at work for ten. Get out of the car with my little notebook and walk into “atmosphere”. Now, this obviously sounds like a magical place where dreams are reality and I eat clouds for breakfast. Nono, this is where we were all fed lies from the supreme leader of all of this shite. Imagine pigs just eating slop. Actually, not even eating, there is no mastication involved in this process. No time to chew, you swallow or you die.
“Work with the systems and the systems will work for you”. The “systems” are little teachings on the methods which are most helpful in this line of work, the first being “The Law of Averages”. Now, for every 100 doors knocked, 80 people should answer, you will talk to 60, you will “close” 45, and sign 3-5 people up. This is only a mechanism to make sure we aren’t all being lazy shites and are advertising as much as possible. Say for example, there is a massive hill with one house at the top, and a whole estate full of houses on the bottom. Now, I could do 50 houses in the time that it would take for me to do that one, but that is against the rules because that house could be the house that you could sign up. The laws of probability are surely evident here. If I knock 50 more doors, I’m far more likely to get a sale then if I do one. Ugh, I could never put “faith” in such a pile of shite.
Other small topics were learning your pitch and overturning negatives, basically meaning when someone says no you have to turn into a persistent bastard, and say if they don’t have any money you have to say the classic line of “Some of your neighbours have said the same thing…” This has turned into a joke for Ray and I, our little bit of joy that has came from this car crash.
So, after atmosphere we all set out to our assigned areas to begin. 100 houses, 3 laps at different times of the day, so there’s no escape unless you are in a different country. Try to deal with this- deciding whether it was moral or not to sell this to the elderly, or whether to just give them a card and say that the Red Cross will be there to help when they need them, which is obviously rubbish. Or the amount of freaks that you came across, one that complained because I interrupted her taking her pill, another that tried to kidnap me. I’ll also admit that I was a right dick to a few people, one of told me to “fuck off” and in response I shouted “have a nice day” through the letter box and ran down the street. They were the good old days. But I genuinley felt horrible sometimes. People that are horribly ill, trying to get peace and comfort in their own homes, and then us bastards come up and knock the door with a smile the size of a crescent moon waving a pitch card in their face. Where do we all draw the line on how important advertising is and how important privacy is?
This is the real shit. Mid lap, someone is rude to you, you are constantly taking rejection and slammed doors, you’re walking around for 8 hours and no one signs up, you’ve made no money, you’re hungy, you’re tired and you have to face this again tomorrow and it’s now time to get you thinking that it is your fault that you feel like this. Attitude= sales, sales= money, money= power, power= women. “You must maintain a positive attitude all day long and give 100% to every customer, or else you won’t sell anything. Okay Skye, here is the beef. It does not matter if I am positive or not, people are either interested or they are not. I could tell them the British Red Cross would live in their attic, pay their bills, make their food, drive them to the Box every Thursday, wipe their backsides and comb their golden locks but it would not make one tiny bit of a fucking difference. These people are at home, doing home stuff, and if they wanted to sign up to anything, they do not need idiots like us telling them how much of a difference their money is going to make, when most of it probably goes into the “pre-allocated fundraising budget” which eventually goes into your fucking pockets, paying for your swanky cars and houses, because you were sly and crafty enough to take the initiative to exploit people who really need help. Have you wondered why you haven’t slept in 5 years? I bet it’s not because your memory foam matress in your massive double bed isn’t comfy enough. Maybe, just maybe, it’s because your conscience is having a little bit of trouble dealing with the fact that whilst you lie in your swanky appartment there are people out there who don’t even have a bed who you claim to support.
Average daily spend- £15 petrol, £10 food, £6 smokes.
Average daily earnings- ….£5
Worth it? I think not.
Bastards.
