Tuesday, June 18, 2013

From the History Books (Working Expos)

One of my jobs included working at Expos. I only did a few, but by doing them I got to go to Denver and to Portland. I learned a lot in the process. The biggest thing I learned was that my boss at the time made my job a lot harder than it had to be.

He was often totally unrealistic and demanding, and so not in a good way.

When I went to Portland, I flew out on a Friday, spending all day travelling. That night I had to set things up in the booth. By the time the day was over I was exhausted, and not to mention, my body clock was on east coast time. I spent the next day working the expo, and then had to pack up everything before getting myself to the airport to catch a red-eye home. I think I could have spent another night, but I wanted to be as rested as possible before going back to work on Monday.

I got home Sunday morning, and the day was mostly a waste.

Monday morning I went into work and I was looking at the mail - which included some trade materials - and my boss comes in and tells me I should get to work. Of course he might have been kidding, but the conversation that ensued tells me probably not.

It was a job that began with a huge lie, "occasional late nights." What he really meant to say was an occasional night that I would actually get out of work at a decent hour. He also told me that he would give me a raise once I proved myself. Once I proved myself, he had no money to give anyone in the company raises, and that included me - even though my raise wasn't a "typical" yearly raise. On top of everything else, I saw many personal things. He had me return a powered dog brush that was 200-300 dollars and an itemized list of furniture for his home in the amount of $10,000 came through on the fax machine.

It was his right to spend his money however he saw fit, but the least he could have done was not to flaunt in front of the person he told he couldn't pay what she was worth.

After a while, I knew I had to leave. It was next to impossible. I never had to dress up for work, so I would have to go to someone else's office, change into interview clothes, go on the interview, come back, change clothes and go back to work. I can't even remember the countless numbers of times I did that. When I finally got to the point that I gave notice, I gave 2 weeks.  Within a day, or two, he told me I had to wrap things up within the week, leaving me with an unexpected, unpaid, hiatus between jobs.

I'll never forget him, but probably for all the "wrong" reasons.

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