"Would you like to save a child for only one dollar a day?" Part 1

I've told to many of my experiences as a door-to-door salesperson helping organizations like World Vision and the Foster Parent's Plan to get sponsors. I've never completely told anyone about the story from beginning to end, however. It was always snippets of what I thought was really interesting, but in reality, the entire experience was less than anything of exciting.

It was a hard job, but it wasn't a tedious job (mostly), and it requires quite a bit of cunning. And I miss it.

I started working for Top Notch Advertizing Inc in the beginning of this summer, when I was in the middle of looking for summer employment. I scoured the internet of ads and postings hoping I would be able to find a quality, if not, well paid position. It was extremely difficult. Government offices were not accepting my resumes and applications and I was feeling the pressures of getting a job as by this point, my father had been out of work for a year and a half.

My parents kept our financial struggles away from me, but I'm not an idiot, and I've always been good at calculating finances. We've all been tightening our belts, but if better news didn't come soon, my dad would lose his EI in the next little while. So I felt the pressures of at least finding *a job* towering over and raining down on me like the erupting Mount Vesuvius.

One day, I took interest in an ad on Kijiji -- "performance based pay... hourly wage, not commissions based." I was skeptical as to what kind of a job this could be and gave a call as that was the only source of contact.

"Hello, Top Notch Advertizing, how can I help you?" Answered a man who spoke with the speed of greased lightning.

"Uh, just responding to an ad you posted on Kijiji, I would like to apply for said position" (and I thought to myself, whatever the position maybe)

"Do you think you have what it takes to be Top Notch?"

"Yep!"

"Cool, come in tomorrow at 11am for an interview, dress to impress."

"okay..."(that was easy)

Of course, for the rest of the day, I thought I had just stumbled upon some big scam. What kind of company would offer an interview just like that? I decided to follow through - it says it is not commissions based, so what have I got to lose?

I went to the interview the next day, dressed in a suit-and-tie. Followed the directions and drove to a sketchy industrial neighbourhood just off of Carling Ave. I was sketching out a bit at this moment, and was contemplating on whether if I should step into the door, and if I do, whether if I will see my family or livers again.

I pull open the dusty door, which looks like an emergency exit more than an entrance. I see a narrow staircase, with light shining at the end. I climb up. *thump thump thump*

"Hello, are you here for the interview?"

In front of me sat the receptionist. It probably because the office had huge windows and the sun outside was as bright as Einstein, but I swear her face glowed. She was beautiful. She had blond hair, a blue dress, and a stud in her nose, right under the bridge. The office looked nice enough, a few meeting rooms, a huge fish tank, and an empty room behind me with whiteboards. Haven't I seen offices like these before on TV? The ones telling us how they lie about their operations, take our down payments, then disappear the next day?

If they asked for down payment for anything, I will leave. Not worth leaving now, plus, there's a hot girl here asking me to fill out my name, address, and personal information, what could possibly go wrong, right? She could be asking for my number so she could call it in the future, right? ;)

I took the board, and asked to fill it out in a green waiting room with 5 or 6 framed motivational posters on the walls. It seems like they are trying way too hard to seem like a professional working environment.

There were also 3 other people here with me: a white guy with a beard, suit jacket, dress pants, and... leather boots? 2 black girls filling out one form talking in a very secretive manner. Soon a white girl came in, she was speaking in French... damn, not bad looking. I fill out my sheet, and by this time, another guy came in. Geez, high traffic eh? Well, I guess they didn't really have any screening process pre-interview. In this job economy, anyone will take anything.

A loud short man in a white suit comes up the stairs. The receptionist, we will call her Shaw (last name Tee), greeted the strange little man in the cheeriest way... shit this must be the boss. They have some inane conversation about the new fish he had just put into the tank, and the man disappears into the back. I just realize how quiet the waiting room had been the entire time. No one was saying anything, and it was really awkward. I guess everyone had the same questions in mind "What the fuck am I doing here? When do the interview begin?"

I looked at the time - 11:30. Cool. Punctuality is not an issue in this office. That's reassuring.

Another 15 minutes passed. Okay, this is getting ridiculous, when are they going to star-

A mulatto dressed in a full greysuit walked into the room with a clipboard, called out a name. It was one of the people before me, shook the guy's hand, introduces his name (we'll call him Machine Gun Max), brought the man out of the room and they disappeared around the corner. Shit -- will we ever see that man again? If I wanted to run, now's the time...

Another mulatto came around, introduced his name (Sureshot Steve), and brought one of the black girls away for an interview. Apparently the other girl was just there to accompany her friend.

This went on for a bit, with the two men alternating. My interview happened to be with Max. We get past the cordialities, and I follow him to an office, at the end of the snaking hallway. This next part became hazy because the guy started to talk. This guy talks like he's driving on the Autobahn. If there were a speed limit to talking, the vocation police would have called out the entire fleet to chase this man, helicopters and everything. Hardly grasping what he said, he'd always end each segment with a question, and I'd be stunned for a second, retrace the memory of what he'd just said and agree.

But basically, he explains that this job is very much like a door-to-door job (I think he called it "a performance based job with a lot of opportunities to work outdoors -- you like working outdoors right?"). He explained that his company was working with quite a few big name clients, showed me the list. I saw Red Cross, Planned Canada, World Vision, and a few others on the list (placing a mental note that I would never donate to this places again). He explained that it was not commissions based, and that I will be paid for every dollar worked. Except, my wage will go up if I performed well, and I am given 2 weeks of paid training. Not all bad.

We concluded the interview with him informing me that tomorrow I will have a second interview on the field - my day of observation. I will be working with another employee and it will be determined whether if I am suitable for the job. I thanked him for his time (and silently thanking him for allowing me to leave with my organs). Upon my way out, I took another look at the beautiful receptionist, another look into the green waiting room where even more people now sat, and I took a look into the empty room with a lot of white-boards wondering what secrets this mystical shrine possessed.

I left dazed and confused, and with a lot of unanswered questions. "What kind of people will I be working with?" "What kind of door-to-door will I have to do? What is door-to-door like?" "Should I even keep this job? I mean, door to door is quite a transgression of my morals..."

"Where in the world is Carmen San Diego?"

Too many unanswered questions, my head hurts. Just drive home for now, forget about tomorrow, and have a good night's rest. Because tomorrow will be a fucking long day.

-Wayne