...for Boston College. It is maybe the worst job on campus. I would rather clean every single bathroom in Walsh with a toothbrush and spray bottle. I would rather cook dinner for the entire football team. I would rather work BC Catering again. To give you an idea of my misery - it begins in the morning, when I realize "Oh shizzlesticks" I have phone center tonight, my day is going to suck. Honestly I would rather go stay in a homeless shelter (no, really I would). Then I struggle with the idea of calling in with a rare African jungle disease (Ebola perhaps). Then I decide that I might as well go instead of watching another political documentary on Netflix. I make it down to the center at 5:59 and start calling at 6.
What follows is 3 hours of hell. Angry old men who graduated in 1948 and don't even remember how to wipe their own asses proceed to tell me off for trying to finagle money out of them. When I apologize and mention, "Well, sir, I'm really sorry to bother you, but this is what I do for my on-campus employment. Maybe if jackasses like yourself gave more money I would get some financial aid and not have to pay for my own books" (ok, I know I don't pay for my own books, but that's besides the point).
Next call is a Class of '11 grad. Their mom answers and tells me that the kid has moved out. "Oh sorry to bother you then, do you have a forwarding number I can reach her at?" Um. No. Great so now your kid is no longer in the BC directory because I had to mark them as "Whereabouts unknown". Success.
I love calling the Law School grads though. They pick up and ask me "You want money?" Yes. "Fine send me an email" For how much? "Whatever. I'll pay you to stop calling me".
Once in awhile you get really awesome prospects though. I called a dude in my long shift (6 freaking hours on Sundays) who graduated in '61 and went to Vietnam. He was a civil planner. He graduated with a degree in PoliSci, which is basically what I'm doing. We chatted about Afghanistan and Iraq and Vietnam and their similarities for 15 minutes before I got around to asking him for money (No). Then he told me not to join the army, not to major in Political Science, to marry rich, and live in New York City. Valid advice I suppose, considering I'm never going to get a job.
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