When you are at the bottom of the corporate hierarchy, you don’t always get the most glamorous jobs. Though my main task is inputting, every now and again a colleague will have work they don’t want to do and drop by my cubicle.
As a result, I’ve become somewhat of a jack-of-all-trades in the office because I do odd jobs for different departments within the company.
The first in my series of unfortunate tasks was resumé collecting from past contacts. I was charged with phoning a list of candidates to collect their updated CVs. On the surface, this job did not entail much, but apparently first impressions are as meaningless as K-Fed’s rap career.
While I personally don’t have the most easy-to-pronounce name, the names on this list challenged the laws of language. I attempted to sound out names which had no vowels and consisted mostly of the last few letters of the alphabet.
After I finally finished stuttering through the list of phone calls and inputting all the incoming resumés, I discovered I had missed one crucial detail: I had to include each candidate’s title.
I was able to determine the gender of the majority of the clients based on their names, but there still remained the select puzzling few. This meant that I had to figure out a polite and professional way to ask the candidates their gender. I consulted with my other colleagues. We decided the stealthiest way to determine someone’s gender without sparking any lawsuits was to call and judge their voices.
The men who were cursed with high speech and the women who were afflicted with deep voices were victims in our scheme, but the successes outweighed the casualties.
After numerous awkward phone calls, I finally finished the job. I never thought that I’d be excited to do data input, but after completing the list, I happily returned to the monotony of the company database.