Job Quest
Today's been one hell of a day. The 3 musketeers went on a job quest, quite desperately but not seemingly so in appearance. We got ourselves to Recruit Express and 'malu' ourselves. There was a crowd. People wearing formally. People looking serious. We looked out of place. Kev was wearing smart casual. dPx was wearing smart casual with not-so-casual slippers. JH was wearing 'kopi-thiam' smart-casual. Everyone was interviewed one by one. Everyone had a resume. Except us. We were interviewed at the same time, with the interviewer firing quick questions at breakneck speed. "I sell CDs one," said JH proudly. And then we were gone. "We blew it!"
Next up, Adecco. Smart sources had told us this is the place to go. So on we trod, excitedly, anticipating what to say and what not to say. "Say I'm a retailer 10 times," reminding JH not to screw things up again. We got there. Hell, there's a lot of agencies in this freaking building alone. Upon reaching Adecco, we found ourselves in good company. More people looking 'lok kok'. Greeted by a sweet smile from a sweet receiptionist, we were asked to complete a form. And then we were asked to f**k off as soon as we handed in the form. Implicitly though, by the same sweet girl. Sigh.
"It's ok. Just leave our names with 10 more agencies and I don't believe we won't get one call." I supposed the contary would happen though. Times are hard. I am starting to use this phrase. Hell, I have grew up. Give me a break!
Last stop. Kelly Services. I was engaged by this agency during some school canvassing and some of their faces look familar. I was eager to pull the strings attached but I failed apparently. We were as usual asked to fill a form. "Do you consume alcohol?" the form asked blatantly. "No, we're halal," we wrote plainly. "Please take the typing test," requested the old lady. "No, we are looking for some tough jobs. We can do security, escorting and weight lifting," replied us coherently. The old lady simply ignored us. Kev and JH were first up. They weren't even typing. Backspace happened to be their favourite button. With their two index fingers, they were going at the equivalent rate of 0.2 km/hr. Basically I could break down their typing into 4 steps.
1. Look at the paper.
2. Look at the keyboard.
3. Look at the monitor.
4. If you had typed the wrong word, go back to step 1 (If you hadn't, also go back to step 1).
At least we got to know our typing speeds. JH got 30wpm, while Kev got 27wpm. dPx, being dPx, got himself 60wpm. "You won yourself our name card, my dear," said the old lady nicely as she handed me Kelly Services namecard. JH and Kev were distraughted. "That's it for today!"
We walked our way back to the MRT station, seeing ourselves possibly taking the same route everyday in the near future. "Not bad lar, a lot of good-looking girls in corporate wear," we consoled ourselves. The train came, we rushed for it, along with an ang moh. The train was not full, only its seats were full. But we couldn't get in. There's sort of like a road block at every entrance. As expected, the train closed its door and off went the half-empty train. We (including the ang moh) were pissed. "Aunty, cannot go in huh?" The aunty looked at us as if we were aliens. "Inside got ghost meh?" We were getting ourselves outnumbered, for every entrance blocker were now staring at us. Not willing to be outdone, we talked among ourselves. Loudly.
"Why ar, how come like tat one?"
"Dunno leh, got ghost lor. Kiasu lor. Singaporeans leh."
Sigh. This is the first time I am seeing such a scene. "They deserve the seats lar. They deserve it more than anybody lor. They stand the whole day liao leh. The pregnant and handicapped should give up their seats to reward their hard day lor," was our only explanation.
Signing off.
Next up, Adecco. Smart sources had told us this is the place to go. So on we trod, excitedly, anticipating what to say and what not to say. "Say I'm a retailer 10 times," reminding JH not to screw things up again. We got there. Hell, there's a lot of agencies in this freaking building alone. Upon reaching Adecco, we found ourselves in good company. More people looking 'lok kok'. Greeted by a sweet smile from a sweet receiptionist, we were asked to complete a form. And then we were asked to f**k off as soon as we handed in the form. Implicitly though, by the same sweet girl. Sigh.
"It's ok. Just leave our names with 10 more agencies and I don't believe we won't get one call." I supposed the contary would happen though. Times are hard. I am starting to use this phrase. Hell, I have grew up. Give me a break!
Last stop. Kelly Services. I was engaged by this agency during some school canvassing and some of their faces look familar. I was eager to pull the strings attached but I failed apparently. We were as usual asked to fill a form. "Do you consume alcohol?" the form asked blatantly. "No, we're halal," we wrote plainly. "Please take the typing test," requested the old lady. "No, we are looking for some tough jobs. We can do security, escorting and weight lifting," replied us coherently. The old lady simply ignored us. Kev and JH were first up. They weren't even typing. Backspace happened to be their favourite button. With their two index fingers, they were going at the equivalent rate of 0.2 km/hr. Basically I could break down their typing into 4 steps.
1. Look at the paper.
2. Look at the keyboard.
3. Look at the monitor.
4. If you had typed the wrong word, go back to step 1 (If you hadn't, also go back to step 1).
At least we got to know our typing speeds. JH got 30wpm, while Kev got 27wpm. dPx, being dPx, got himself 60wpm. "You won yourself our name card, my dear," said the old lady nicely as she handed me Kelly Services namecard. JH and Kev were distraughted. "That's it for today!"
We walked our way back to the MRT station, seeing ourselves possibly taking the same route everyday in the near future. "Not bad lar, a lot of good-looking girls in corporate wear," we consoled ourselves. The train came, we rushed for it, along with an ang moh. The train was not full, only its seats were full. But we couldn't get in. There's sort of like a road block at every entrance. As expected, the train closed its door and off went the half-empty train. We (including the ang moh) were pissed. "Aunty, cannot go in huh?" The aunty looked at us as if we were aliens. "Inside got ghost meh?" We were getting ourselves outnumbered, for every entrance blocker were now staring at us. Not willing to be outdone, we talked among ourselves. Loudly.
"Why ar, how come like tat one?"
"Dunno leh, got ghost lor. Kiasu lor. Singaporeans leh."
Sigh. This is the first time I am seeing such a scene. "They deserve the seats lar. They deserve it more than anybody lor. They stand the whole day liao leh. The pregnant and handicapped should give up their seats to reward their hard day lor," was our only explanation.
Signing off.
posted by dPx at 1:13 AM
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