Found in the newspaper--potential $15 per hour(more money than I have ever made). I quickly notice that they also take workers permits, which is essential to my unemployed status at 14 years old. I give then a very nervous call and request an interview--Bing! I get one the year is 1996. I did not realize at the time that everyone got jobs and the world was made of gold. I have to then convince my mother that it is not a waste of her time to take me to the interview. I accomplish this goal by letting her know that it is on the way to the grocery store. I am a shoe in at this point. I don't have the slightest idea as to what the job even is-- but I know I want it...
A job represents all that is good--not being poor. right?
The sweetest woman in the world has me sit at the only real desk in a gray painted cinder blocked room. She hands me a wrinkled but laminated sheet that spills out a diatribe of rushed information about The Belleville News Democrat---the worst paper maybe ever. I then look around the room at the people husslin' on the phones and become aware that I am going to be the best telemarketer ever.
I read the script to the woman with perfect clarity and even followed the given responses to her hesitation to wanting my beloved paper---but mam, we have made changes to the paper and the coupons found inside will more than pay for your subscription.
Bonnie is the queen on the telemarketing business. She runs the office alongside a real creepster named Kieth. Kieth had a mustache, the blond kind. He also had some questionable teeth that I will not go too much into detail about--scummy. Bonnie would motivate us with hostess snacks and playing cards--like we were all fat gamblers. Who ever makes the next sell would win the snacks or toy. It was like playing BINGO at the old folks home.
Sometimes I would wait on a dead line after being hung-up on and listen in on my fellow pioneers. Larry the old dude with the pedophile glasses was the hardest sales man--you could frequently find him yelling into the phone-mean style-almost threatening the potential Newsprint client. He was a crazy dude--life long newspaper sales guy--he had been with he outfit for the past 11 years and generally had the best sales of all of us. You could also find him talking on the phone completely out of script--but they let him because his lies worked. I would borrow from his technique occasionally.
Then there was Simon who's approach also worked wonders, but I had no way of replicating. He was a smooth talker and womanizer. He gave those housewives something to want. He was close to my age but let the ladies think he was a young 40 year old. I would catch him faking a southern cowboy style accent from time to time. He wasn't the bad looking but he rocked that 90's metal hair with the long black hair on top and the shaved underneath--kinda nasty. We got along really well and share cigarettes on our 15 minute breaks.
Life was good that summer.
