I was up at the crack of dawn this morning (well, eight, but it is school holidays), raring to go and ready for my interview. My job as English teacher is safe but my Head Master encourages us young teachers to look around and see if we can get anything better. It is slightly last minute, given that school starts in two weeks, but nevertheless, I have a few interviews lined up this week.
Eagerly, I put on my obligatory 'sensible' black trousers and black high heels and scraped my hair back. I felt confident but not cocky. My previous interview had been a real trial, as the interviewer kept on asking me the same question, just phrased in different ways 'til even my legendary patience started to crack. I was sure that today would be different.
Anyone who knows Dublin, knows how patchy the 48A bus service is. I caught one on time and got my favourite spot on the top deck. For some reason, the top deck was awash with about three inches of water which kept swirling around my feet, thus sullying my good interview shoes. Typical. The whole bus had the look of a gutter by a burst watermain, but as far as I know, buses don't have water pipes?!?!
I made it to the office on time and was ushered in by a frazzled looking secretary. After waiting for twenty minutes, the boss of the operation took me into the interview room. He looks like an oily salesman, I thought, while smiling sweetly at him. I answered his questions fluidly and we chatted about behaviour management. This is in the bag, I thought smugly. 'Any questions, Amy?' he grinned. I mooted the point of wages. He told me the expected salary. My jaw must have fallen open. My eyes definitely glazed over in shock.
The wage pa he was suggesting might barely cover the cost of a second hand volkswagen. Barely. Put it another way, if you had to pay rent out of that wage, you would barely be able to feed yourself, never mind do anything else, and that would be shopping at asda or dunnes. I'm certainly not a millionaire as it is, but last time I checked, Ireland isn't a third world country. I'd make more money sewing trainers for nike.
My facial expression spoke volumes. He icily promised that he would 'be in touch'.
'In your dreams, fella' I silently answered.
On the way home, I wondered if I was being a diva about the whole money issue. I don't think so. What amuses me the most is how some employers attempt to get skilled and experienced workers at 'bargain basement' prices. The thing is: you get what you pay for. It is the teenagers who will suffer when confronted with some half-ass graduate who doesn't know what they're doing. The cost of living keeps rising and the average wage stays eerily low. No wonder the rich stay rich.
Back to the drawing board. At least I have an excuse to get a new pair of interview shoes...
Aims
17 Comments
Was just so pissed off when I left that interview I had to say something. How do these middle management guys get away with offering slave labour wages? Especially as he probably lives in a big semi-d in the suburbs.
I've actually never seen that movie, just that clip, but I liked it;)
Still doesn't solve the problem though- now- doesn't it make you wonder what the guy would have offered a man for the same position? That might be a consideration in all this as well when you look at it from the social perspective.
but you're right- qualty vs. quantity always has the trade off!
Once while interviewing for a theatre teaching position, I made an awkward comment that cost me the job. The host/interviewer was showing me around, including physical facilities, and describing what this small college was doing and hoped to do. At my college post at the time, I had barely managed to move us along from a D-grade high school level that included borrowing furniture from a retail store _ and the begging and grousing that entailed _ to beginning to having our own equipment and our own stuff for sets, etc. Achieving this had requiring much knuckling of forehead and then going my own way anyway. And I said to the interviewer, "Looks like I'll have to be coming up to your level."
Not exactly what I meant, durn it, but: Uh oh. Bye bye.
But take a section of any mainstream office , most folks on the front line are women without real ambition, but worker bees(more involved with soap opera, babies and other mundane crap). Inject a man , then they will be no-one to upset the worker bee hive mind. Inoffensive , quiet and a hard worker. Probably gay.
Tell me I'm wrong, but my previous job in an office had 85% women to men, all worker bees without ambition. I was contracting and questioned this, 5 days later after a management meeting......contract terminated.
Is independant thought now a crime in the corporate world??
Inject a man , then they will be no-one to upset the worker bee hive mind. Inoffensive , quiet and a hard worker. Probably gay.
I do find gays inoffensive and hard working, now you mention it. Not always quiet, though.
I feel as irritated by people who take extra long maternity leave as anyone else. If I'm in a job I know I'm just as good as any red blooded male and probably better and I want paying for it. Sorry to be blunt but that's how it goes.
Hey you know AdGuy always gets the last word! ;)