Saturday, October 14, 2006

I read an article in a local paper here about the "passive solicitation of head hunters" in the super competitive (read as: ridiculously competitive) scene for professional talent that is this city. Apparently they're more cut throat and ambitious in real life than even those lovable vegetarian head hunting cannibals in the Monkey Island games.

The section I focused on was one of the last paragraphs in the article, it listed the most important factors that let head hunters catch your scent. I carefully read through the bulleted list and realized I was a Relatively young, without-loyalty, and so on. It seemed I met most of the criteria aside from the fact that I'm not a "new-hire" per say, but instead I am a "temp" or a student employee. Smiling from the slight confidence boost the article had provided me (I'm in demand!!), I folded the paper up and focused on my cheap coffee and poorly progressing project.

Thursday morning my phone rings. I hit the speaker phone and answered with the same overly-jovial greeting. "Hi, this is A_, I'm calling on behalf of Shell...." I listened on as she told me who she thought I was and asked for an interview..

My throat immediately constricted, my eyes darted to the door. I kicked one of the chairs on the other side of my desk, rolling it across the office and slamming the door closed as I picked up the receiver for enough privacy to ensure I wouldn't be fired.

I managed to clear my throat of surprise and begin my very poorly rehearsed professional blabber.

Moments later I was in the Clear with an interview scheduled for an "on the sly" lunch meeting deep inside enemy territory. I hung up the phone and grinned like an Imp, pumping my fist into the air like a madman in the privacy of my office.

Friday's lunch hour came and I scooted out of the office for an "external appointment". I darted across the street, my tie flapping in the cruelly bitter wind. Face flushed and with the flu setting in I nervously checked in through security, stuffing my company branded name tag deep in my pocket. 2 hours later (an hour over schedule) my confidence hugely inflated with the promise of a phone call in 2 weeks and the details as to why they're widely regarded as the best employer in the world I darted back out through the revolving door with my head swarming with Dreams of New Zealand.

As I returned to my desk half way through a work day I had never really mentally arrived to, my mind began to settle. My Ego, still burning from the rapid inflation had begun to cool. I looked at my new Waterbottle with my university's emblem on the front, the Seashell on the back. A swarm of yellow and orange colored pamphlets sat in my lap while I looked out the window of the "World's Biggest" to the "World's Best" while my supervisor's gossip about someone else from a month previous echoed in my ears, "...and of course, once you leave, you can't come back, not here... not anywhere.. not under this company's banner, and not under any of our affiliates... You're a marked man then."

Today is Saturday (already Sunday in a place I want to be) and I've turned down the invitation to go out (free wine or not) so I can think.

I remember when I was a kid, just an only child, more focused on misbehaving and crashing my giant tricycle (called a winky) then on money, stature, or any of that other crap.

Every Sunday I'd sit with my dad in our tiny Volkswagen Rabbit just behind the fence at the end of the airport's runway and watch the planes take off and land. I'd watch every space shuttle launch, hang inflatable airplane models from my bedroom ceiling and poster pictures of space walking astronauts to my wall.

Now I'm being drowned by greed and being berated by experts who know how to change my mind better than I do. I'll freely admit I have no allegiance to any company at this point, but I still hold tight to my idea of what I want to be.

I still want to be involved with what I always loved watching. I want to be a force that changes, not one that maintains. I surely don't want to fade into the obscurity of an oil field engineer, no matter how big my house could be or how fat my wallet would be.

No doubt I would be happy in one sense.. but I'd be a happy nobody.

Thing is, its the only readily available option.

I could really use a good friend's input now... Someone just willing to tell me to shut the fuck up and give me their spin....

4 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Where is the guy that always believed in following their dreams? The person who I never thought would ever take the easy way out?

Think about it!

2:34 PM  
Blogger Colum said...

You forgot to tell me to Shut the F--- up :)

But I'm thinkin'

3:12 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Shut the f--- up! How's that? :)

9:06 PM  
Blogger CT said...

readily available doesn't mean the only thing available..unfortunately the oil people have lots of money to blow on trying to get bright young people to come and work for them..and lots of money to impress them with too. But, all the money in the world won't change the fact that there's an awful lot of ethical stuff to choke down working for them..and a whole lifetime of dreams that wouldn't happen (but probably could eventually, if you put your mind to it.)

3:04 AM  

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