So I blog posted before about not working as many Vikings Games this season as before because of the coronavirus, even though there was an outside chance I could have worked them all but I didn't because I was too late in replying to the crewer's e-mail. I was upset that I would not be able to work all of them, but I got over it by forgetting that I felt that way.
In the afternoon (and this was after my boss' boss surprised me by coming into our department while I was not working) work actually did taper off, and so I took the time to go through my personal e-mail -- you know, just in case something cropped up. I am still getting inundated with political fundraising appeals which I had time at work to clean out. And there was another e-mail that had to do with this ongoing issue I and others have with the college and the alumni association that I replied to. But there was an important e-mail dropped into my inbox -- someone from the network e-mailed me about Vikings Games ... specifically this Sunday's Game against Green Bay. "Something came up in the last minute and I need someone to run for the Game. Can you do it? Reply to me ASAP!!!" It was dated 12:54.
I had to have seen it at 1 o'clock because I replied, "Yes, I can!" and sent it with a timestamp of 1:01. Serendipity brought me face-to-face with that e-mail so soon after she sent it. And I learned my lesson back in the summer (even though there was no lesson to learn), so I pounced on that chance.
And she replied that same minute, 1:01, with, "Oops, just filled it! I'll keep you in the loop for Games later in the season if I need you!" To which I replied back with, "OK." Like a cuck.
By the way, I instinctively checked my phone to see if she also texted her request for someone to work the Game, like she did before. She did text -- at 12:53, a minute before she e-mailed me. So I guess it took me eight minutes to reply to her. And apparently when she reached out to me, she reached out to everybody because she was desperate. And although I tried replying to her ASAP (after I e-mailed her back I texted her back, and in turn she got back to me via both e-mail and text), the wide net she cast reeled in someone damn quick, quicker than yours truly. And I was stewing in my own fucking juices the rest of the damn day.
Please, don't give me the "early bird gets the worm" bullshit. First of all, it took me only seven or eight minutes this time around to reply to a last-minute request to fill a job. More importantly, I don't see this rejection as a failure (or worse, a, ick, "life lesson") to jump on an opportunity to work. Her spewing this cry for help to everyone, then making a game of it by only rewarding the quickest to reply to her, is instead something more like tossing a piece of cheese onto the floor and getting off on seeing all the rats chase that piece and push each other around just so they can get a nibble of it.
Or, try on this analogy from my life. Back when I returned from college, when I was just starting to realize I now needed to work to make a living, I decided I didn't know what I wanted to do but I wanted to keep my options open, so I began working as a temp. Well, I didn't have a cellphone when I started to strike out in The Real World, so I would call in from time to time to ask if they have a lead on a job. And then I would go out, leaving Grandmother to take any messages any temp agencies might leave for me. When she told me that someone from this number called, I would call back -- sometimes at home but sometimes I would, get this, find a payphone when I would be out and about.
Around this time I spent a lot of time at the University of Minnesota. Around the turn of the century there was a computer lab open to students in one of the halls, and I figured out that my student ID from when I took classes at the U. over the summers I was at college still got me in. That lab was in the basement, and there was a payphone on that same ground floor. So whenever I didn't feel the urgent need to call back the agency to jump at a job, I would go on Netscape, be on the Internet for a couple hours, and once I was done I would go up to the payphone, put in 50 cents and talk to the temp agency. And more often than not, when I ask about the job for which they left a massage, they would say, "Whoops, sorry -- already filled it." And I would be like, "Shoot!" and then I'd be like, "Whatever." Because I was young and didn't have a care in the world.
That was me in my early twenties. I am in my mid-forties now. Although age should not be the sole factor when it comes to deserving things, I am too old to dance like a monkey whenever someone has a need and doesn't offer it to me exclusively. I no longer want to participate in any type of Death Race where I have to worry whether I'm first to reply to a job. What I would prefer is if she would know about my seniority with the network and say to me, via e-mail or text or both, "Hey, someone dropped out of Sunday's Game. We need someone to fill in. I know you've worked with us for a long time. Can you do it? Please let me know as soon as you can; otherwise, I'll have to start asking other people from your area." That, honestly, would make me feel good. And it would make me feel appreciated that my tenure spent with this network is understood and not devalued. She may not know this, and she may not need to know it. But I have to be selfish here: I felt a bit disrespected by the way all this went down, which happened almost a month after I got burned over the same game of telephone tag. And, of course, I got bitter that I missed my chance, again, to work Vikings Games like I usually do. That's what made my bad day bad.
It has been a long time since I haven't been hired on to do all available Vikes homes Games for the two networks that do the bulk of their telecasts. I grew quickly to resent any date that I for some reason did not work. I haven't had to feel that way for at least half a decade. But the pandemic, shifting position needs and the ability or inability to respond to requests instantly has me sidelined for the opening Game of the season -- a season which, I still insist, won't go on as planned, which I think would save me a lot of agita that I'm feeling right now.
But today's Game will be played. And I will not be at the stadium. I actually don't think I'll be seeing much of the Game. I promised my parents I would mow the lawn at one of their properties. After that, I plan on eating some State Fair food on the far side of town that I've been meaning to eat all summer. Then, I think I'll try a Target or two to find some disinfecting wipes. Then I'll come home and probably catch the tail end of what I predict will be a Vikes loss. Probably for the best. 'Cause I still have my feelings of resentment and bitterness. So the less time I watch the Game on TV, the less time I'll be reminded that I should be there, and not on the other side of the television.
In the afternoon (and this was after my boss' boss surprised me by coming into our department while I was not working) work actually did taper off, and so I took the time to go through my personal e-mail -- you know, just in case something cropped up. I am still getting inundated with political fundraising appeals which I had time at work to clean out. And there was another e-mail that had to do with this ongoing issue I and others have with the college and the alumni association that I replied to. But there was an important e-mail dropped into my inbox -- someone from the network e-mailed me about Vikings Games ... specifically this Sunday's Game against Green Bay. "Something came up in the last minute and I need someone to run for the Game. Can you do it? Reply to me ASAP!!!" It was dated 12:54.
I had to have seen it at 1 o'clock because I replied, "Yes, I can!" and sent it with a timestamp of 1:01. Serendipity brought me face-to-face with that e-mail so soon after she sent it. And I learned my lesson back in the summer (even though there was no lesson to learn), so I pounced on that chance.
And she replied that same minute, 1:01, with, "Oops, just filled it! I'll keep you in the loop for Games later in the season if I need you!" To which I replied back with, "OK." Like a cuck.
By the way, I instinctively checked my phone to see if she also texted her request for someone to work the Game, like she did before. She did text -- at 12:53, a minute before she e-mailed me. So I guess it took me eight minutes to reply to her. And apparently when she reached out to me, she reached out to everybody because she was desperate. And although I tried replying to her ASAP (after I e-mailed her back I texted her back, and in turn she got back to me via both e-mail and text), the wide net she cast reeled in someone damn quick, quicker than yours truly. And I was stewing in my own fucking juices the rest of the damn day.
Please, don't give me the "early bird gets the worm" bullshit. First of all, it took me only seven or eight minutes this time around to reply to a last-minute request to fill a job. More importantly, I don't see this rejection as a failure (or worse, a, ick, "life lesson") to jump on an opportunity to work. Her spewing this cry for help to everyone, then making a game of it by only rewarding the quickest to reply to her, is instead something more like tossing a piece of cheese onto the floor and getting off on seeing all the rats chase that piece and push each other around just so they can get a nibble of it.
Or, try on this analogy from my life. Back when I returned from college, when I was just starting to realize I now needed to work to make a living, I decided I didn't know what I wanted to do but I wanted to keep my options open, so I began working as a temp. Well, I didn't have a cellphone when I started to strike out in The Real World, so I would call in from time to time to ask if they have a lead on a job. And then I would go out, leaving Grandmother to take any messages any temp agencies might leave for me. When she told me that someone from this number called, I would call back -- sometimes at home but sometimes I would, get this, find a payphone when I would be out and about.
Around this time I spent a lot of time at the University of Minnesota. Around the turn of the century there was a computer lab open to students in one of the halls, and I figured out that my student ID from when I took classes at the U. over the summers I was at college still got me in. That lab was in the basement, and there was a payphone on that same ground floor. So whenever I didn't feel the urgent need to call back the agency to jump at a job, I would go on Netscape, be on the Internet for a couple hours, and once I was done I would go up to the payphone, put in 50 cents and talk to the temp agency. And more often than not, when I ask about the job for which they left a massage, they would say, "Whoops, sorry -- already filled it." And I would be like, "Shoot!" and then I'd be like, "Whatever." Because I was young and didn't have a care in the world.
That was me in my early twenties. I am in my mid-forties now. Although age should not be the sole factor when it comes to deserving things, I am too old to dance like a monkey whenever someone has a need and doesn't offer it to me exclusively. I no longer want to participate in any type of Death Race where I have to worry whether I'm first to reply to a job. What I would prefer is if she would know about my seniority with the network and say to me, via e-mail or text or both, "Hey, someone dropped out of Sunday's Game. We need someone to fill in. I know you've worked with us for a long time. Can you do it? Please let me know as soon as you can; otherwise, I'll have to start asking other people from your area." That, honestly, would make me feel good. And it would make me feel appreciated that my tenure spent with this network is understood and not devalued. She may not know this, and she may not need to know it. But I have to be selfish here: I felt a bit disrespected by the way all this went down, which happened almost a month after I got burned over the same game of telephone tag. And, of course, I got bitter that I missed my chance, again, to work Vikings Games like I usually do. That's what made my bad day bad.
It has been a long time since I haven't been hired on to do all available Vikes homes Games for the two networks that do the bulk of their telecasts. I grew quickly to resent any date that I for some reason did not work. I haven't had to feel that way for at least half a decade. But the pandemic, shifting position needs and the ability or inability to respond to requests instantly has me sidelined for the opening Game of the season -- a season which, I still insist, won't go on as planned, which I think would save me a lot of agita that I'm feeling right now.
But today's Game will be played. And I will not be at the stadium. I actually don't think I'll be seeing much of the Game. I promised my parents I would mow the lawn at one of their properties. After that, I plan on eating some State Fair food on the far side of town that I've been meaning to eat all summer. Then, I think I'll try a Target or two to find some disinfecting wipes. Then I'll come home and probably catch the tail end of what I predict will be a Vikes loss. Probably for the best. 'Cause I still have my feelings of resentment and bitterness. So the less time I watch the Game on TV, the less time I'll be reminded that I should be there, and not on the other side of the television.
No comments:
Post a Comment