Call center (the revenge)
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Difference Between Mino And Ultra
Since I got off the taxi, not that I do expectations of any kind, I just imagined the worst. One of the great signs (already close I could see the second) had been the victim of graffiti "gang" and its faded colors could be read two things: that there was in and out people for those positions too often or it was a delusion of "inverted pyramid" or something similar (sorry for being so suspicious, but one with each fraud is ...).
first thing that surprised me is that the front door was ajar. In truth, the thought to cross the threshold was merely repeating: "You know what you are getting is safe and you do not like", but on the other hand, the need insisted: "From this to anything, what you to cover this month? "I rang the bell and a distant voice (which in no way resembled that of consciousness) could barely be distinguished:" Paaaasee. "
intonsa
A table, as rural public prosecutor, served as a record; I left my ID to a police woman and gave me the badge of rigor and sat in a sort of waiting room, where boys were waiting puzzled look and endless patience. I was given a complete work history sheet, where you are asked such practical things as: "Do you belong to a union, association or social club" (and where they want to respond: "Yes, very exclusive club Freelance ever: 37 million without labor rights can not be wrong. Unite! "). Each sign
added it to the application, increased my regret: "Apart from not going to hire me, I will call every day until the very hell because I'm giving up the name of the dog that I have not." Total: Maybe I rushed. Once I returned, I asked what since I had mentioned. I raised my shoulders in bewilderment and the young man who received papers, interviewing candidates and separate answer phone calls, had a moment of divine insight and said: "Ahhh ... you are correcting. " I felt relieved as few times in life, for I imagined at a computer and a telephone headset, saying, "Senorita Güena evenings, I speak of Amerikan Xpressssss ...". He left another young
(all came and went in a rugged and handled with tremendous care, almost bordering on insecurity). Said my name aloud and asked me to sit opposite him at a desk that was divided by two screens (I could not check if melamine were powerful, sorry): like one of those cubicles gringas see in movies when you visit a prisoner (just missing the phone and through the glass). She told me her name (I did not understand) and began reading aloud the book I wrote (making me feel more stupid than they look by themselves) gave me a "description of the activities of the company (whose name was not I could understand), and began issuing a litany without rhythm or pauses that I understood very little and I remember nothing. When he finished, he told me to wait again in the parlor. Young people who were waiting disappeared; in place and there were other (and more), which requests were filled hurriedly and almost everyone left the section of "experience" in white.
Again I heard my name. I went back to the table of confrontation. I repeated almost the same as last time (although now I caught a couple of things) and gave me some pointers (and three sheets of recycled paper). I took the foresight to bring my laptop in case the same day I performed some type of examination, but before I could ask if I could do on the computer, the guy was very specific to write by hand. Shawls. Apart from the erratic and disjointed phrases concocted in my hand book (which slow to figure out myself and usually end up in the trash), I long ago that only a flow of ideas via keyboard (not gamble).
supposedly I started writing my parcels: 1) a letter from a fictitious civil association that seeks to convince the court to make a donation to support street children, 2) a news story on the reforms to the electoral code, and 3) have my life in one page. (In one page!: No Pleistocene elephant!)
I started with what I considered "easier" means the letter pedinche (on which I could barely scribble a couple of ideas, who reviews all force retribution arming a together), then I went on the note COFIPE. This came to my aid Tamagotchi (yes, I am dependent on technology, and why) because I found it a couple of notes on the internet, I could make a synthesis (and incidentally to know about the constitutional controversy that the five parties, once called "bonsai" - brought before the full Congress.) Of course, I ordered a scrub over leaves, for the first three barely allowed me to draft. Then I wrote the letter with pure platitudes (what's made the whole campaign levantalana "but everything that people want to hear about something we do not want to get involved?). And in the end I told any bullshit about my life (for example, that I spent 4 months in high school or pint I was about to "aconchabarme" in Colombia).
I indicated to return to the waiting room, ie to give two steps back.
Until then I retracted what he had written, probably think: "This dude is misfit dysfunctional and a salamander in the desert. Tell us call you. "
Soon a man out exactly like Jean-Paul Sartre (only this very lively and smiling). This if it was up to the water tank water, or put more clearly: he walked the melon, then the first thing he did was criticize the prison enclosure and sat on the other hand, started asking for details on using editing software, among other specifics. I returned to the parlor
blah, blah, blah ... and soon too polite to leave a girl (with very long nails and painted in a traditional way, which made me think, "what time do you sleep?") gave me a leaflet with the documents to be submitted for the contract and asked "Could you come from tomorrow?"
I almost say yes, but argued that it had still deliver some outstanding in the editorial (the dirt biology book that someday there will chronicle: "The Rise and Fall of a book does not exist"), but mostly because that day was the Dylan concert, which announced later peda, sleeplessness and other necessities.
way out, once again confirmed what I have always done: all hope is torn apart by the weight of events. Although I try to get as Chesterton suggested ("... no wait, even / at dusk black beast "), soon infiltrated the prejudices and most of the time (unless it is essential to be entitled to obtain employment) I sabotage myself.
Since then I wake up at 5:30 am (Come on: the first discipline to a dickhead night), yet only came skidding at 9.
I left the staff (although there are days when the foot hurts like I just spraining again) and I went back to retrieve one of the greatest pleasures of this life long and hard to read while traveling on public transport. My new chamba
therapy helps me: check or draft texts of signs, letters or advertising campaigns, my proposals were adopted almost the first (few times no changes) and otherwise occur. See something concrete I will restore confidence, because the publisher (after battling for nearly a year of science books and make corrections endless ending, for some strange reason, such which as originally proposed) I got to the point of not seeing the obvious in a text blunders (mostly meaningless).
I could not find a better option: those who are now my co-workers of blown me into and are well alleviated, no one questioned me for what I do and are comfortable with the results and, most amazing of all: no outstanding leave for another day: everything is resolved, whether at 9 pm, right there.
What else I can ask of life? (NO suggestions: I enjoy it I always thought was a myth and that some call "stability.")
Note With Welcome Gifts
Ciclopista
(or how a dimensional bridge leads to the happy nature)
As I mentioned a few days ago, here is the evidence (I hope Maussan not detected in any shape diffuse an alien took the opportunity to materialize in our dimension fleetingly) how was this street:
What I wonder is where to enter the cars are parked there, if the whole street is full of holes (for a week a drain foul bubbling , smelly) and meters before the car is another mound of rubble like this (there are four along the street). That is a mystery of the millennium and not "approach" (alternative word to avoid being rude and say "sucks").
Later, it seems the bike path bridge, bridge is actually a dimensional ...
... well just change the cross not only the streets but to nature.
As shown, a botonzazo:
Do not tell me it's not like suddenly entering the voice-over by Bob Ross saying: "Here lives a happy bush? There might also be interpreted thus:
(Dialogue between shrubs):
Bush smilingly
"No mames wey, what do you assume you are, a cactus with a mutation? Bush
amorphous:
"I'm not kidding you, that you left you by the hair of Don King.
too well is to reiterate that, as one version or another, the bush ...
.... happy. 
(or how a dimensional bridge leads to the happy nature)
As I mentioned a few days ago, here is the evidence (I hope Maussan not detected in any shape diffuse an alien took the opportunity to materialize in our dimension fleetingly) how was this street:
What I wonder is where to enter the cars are parked there, if the whole street is full of holes (for a week a drain foul bubbling , smelly) and meters before the car is another mound of rubble like this (there are four along the street). That is a mystery of the millennium and not "approach" (alternative word to avoid being rude and say "sucks"). 
Later, it seems the bike path bridge, bridge is actually a dimensional ...
... well just change the cross not only the streets but to nature.
As shown, a botonzazo:
Do not tell me it's not like suddenly entering the voice-over by Bob Ross saying: "Here lives a happy bush? There might also be interpreted thus:
(Dialogue between shrubs):
Bush smilingly
"No mames wey, what do you assume you are, a cactus with a mutation? Bush
amorphous:
"I'm not kidding you, that you left you by the hair of Don King.
too well is to reiterate that, as one version or another, the bush ...
.... happy.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
What To Write In A Congratulations, New Job Card
call center
Part of who knows how many.
Before resigning from the publisher, I recall that I mentioned in a firm way to my buddy Abi (who works looking for people to hire in Chamba from the widest variety) who was willing to radically change work:
(Dramatization )
"So be it in a call center, but I never want to publish books for a while.
"Do not imagine a job like this," said Abi with all the common sense that has distinguished it from teenagers.
"You'll see that yes," answered the stupid pride ... with some dark fear.
was true, I do not imagine me doing what I hate as much or more than most politicians in this country: poor telephone call to hoodwink unsuspecting credit card, aphorisms, and other crap that only increase the already overloaded loans.
more than a week passed that officially no longer belonged to the editorial, but I still called to attend meetings (the latter does not let down on all of fools and cowards) and there was no alternative source of income for any side. So: ad that appeared on the network, it was miserable pay, the clicked (is that how you write it?) immediately fell expecting anything. I think it was funny Nateras (?) Who said playing "Caro" Quintero: "For a desperate, any hole is lifesaving." Although, on reflection, the Ayatollah of the many statements made Mota shit (like that of foreign debt payments if they left it open), it is likely that if it were hers.
One day before the Dylan concert called me to arrange an interview. I do not remember if it was raw, asleep, awake or a mixture of all three, but only if coordinate work to write down the address and time of the above. Until the next day I realized I never asked what it was called or what the company would post the interview. And here I go: at 8 am way Olivar de los Padres (St. Jerome and beyond!), Looking for a street that until more tusked taxi drivers were unaware of their existence. Fortunately, the GPS service tamagochi (Tamagotchi want you, we love you!) Told me that Avenida Toluca could access the dimensional hole that did not appear either in the Guia Roji (the holy book has responded promptly to all my existential doubts since childhood) and how it would appear if the street was literally "wiped off the map", to accommodate the bike path that egg inserted between streets, parks and even homes (soon I will put pictures, I swear).
As in all Guadalajara (especially Mariano Otero), Avenida Vallejo and every street that you talk about the chaos, the numbering was not continuous, so from 4320, the following "building, lot, cellar ...? I played the 312, and the next "school, factory, home ...? held a painted nearly 528 madrasas.
finally found the 427 y. .. What is the first thing that catches my attention?: A big sign which announces that hire "Telemarketing executive" full time.
"Take for hocicón" I said quietly. The taxi driver asked me with concern (we took almost two hours looking for dirt direction and the taximeter already marked almost 200 bucks): "Nor is it, sir?" (Long since ceased to say "young", but I trauma ; least since I bring a cane.) I was about to say that we returned, but I also said, "You are here (late, but finally came), and what can you lose except swallowing a bit of shit that the vague chance has seasoned especially for you? " 
Part of who knows how many.
Before resigning from the publisher, I recall that I mentioned in a firm way to my buddy Abi (who works looking for people to hire in Chamba from the widest variety) who was willing to radically change work:
(Dramatization )
"So be it in a call center, but I never want to publish books for a while.
"Do not imagine a job like this," said Abi with all the common sense that has distinguished it from teenagers.
"You'll see that yes," answered the stupid pride ... with some dark fear.
was true, I do not imagine me doing what I hate as much or more than most politicians in this country: poor telephone call to hoodwink unsuspecting credit card, aphorisms, and other crap that only increase the already overloaded loans.
more than a week passed that officially no longer belonged to the editorial, but I still called to attend meetings (the latter does not let down on all of fools and cowards) and there was no alternative source of income for any side. So: ad that appeared on the network, it was miserable pay, the clicked (is that how you write it?) immediately fell expecting anything. I think it was funny Nateras (?) Who said playing "Caro" Quintero: "For a desperate, any hole is lifesaving." Although, on reflection, the Ayatollah of the many statements made Mota shit (like that of foreign debt payments if they left it open), it is likely that if it were hers.
One day before the Dylan concert called me to arrange an interview. I do not remember if it was raw, asleep, awake or a mixture of all three, but only if coordinate work to write down the address and time of the above. Until the next day I realized I never asked what it was called or what the company would post the interview. And here I go: at 8 am way Olivar de los Padres (St. Jerome and beyond!), Looking for a street that until more tusked taxi drivers were unaware of their existence. Fortunately, the GPS service tamagochi (Tamagotchi want you, we love you!) Told me that Avenida Toluca could access the dimensional hole that did not appear either in the Guia Roji (the holy book has responded promptly to all my existential doubts since childhood) and how it would appear if the street was literally "wiped off the map", to accommodate the bike path that egg inserted between streets, parks and even homes (soon I will put pictures, I swear).
As in all Guadalajara (especially Mariano Otero), Avenida Vallejo and every street that you talk about the chaos, the numbering was not continuous, so from 4320, the following "building, lot, cellar ...? I played the 312, and the next "school, factory, home ...? held a painted nearly 528 madrasas.
finally found the 427 y. .. What is the first thing that catches my attention?: A big sign which announces that hire "Telemarketing executive" full time.
"Take for hocicón" I said quietly. The taxi driver asked me with concern (we took almost two hours looking for dirt direction and the taximeter already marked almost 200 bucks): "Nor is it, sir?" (Long since ceased to say "young", but I trauma ; least since I bring a cane.) I was about to say that we returned, but I also said, "You are here (late, but finally came), and what can you lose except swallowing a bit of shit that the vague chance has seasoned especially for you? "
Sunday, March 9, 2008
Aetna Dmo V Aetna Ppo
parenthetical way to
Who has not seen situations, funny posters or blobs on the subway. Well, I found this on Tuesday:
I showed (of course: the image, I begin to sap from the first post opening) to a colleague (who entered this week which soon will the point as there occurs Chronicles: whatever), and said, "the other day on line 2 I saw one that said 'Poponte' and was a little heart instead invested in the tree" (note the property my buddy). Of course, I figured it was a visual approach to a design student or drawing ("line 3? Course: a university). So I gave the googlezaso (or as you type) and the only results were a page of Argentina, a user of Hi5 and several messages in a gay women's site (still is pejorative to say "lesbian").
Anyway, if anyone knows the author (s) of these pictures, my sincere congratulations and hopefully soon see the symbols on the subway (the Metro Bus would take him, does anyone remember what Tabacalera drawings or Felix Cuevas?) Of stations that everybody says and use a long walk: patriotism, Chimpanzee, Mixiote, Miaducto, Return, Freak, Chavanac, Mortals, Termite, General Canalla, Cerdon Achilles, among others whose name I can not remember (accepting suggestions).
For example, it would be a delight to find in the San Lazaro station (instead of a small train) the outline of a deputy making the sign Roque (do not tell me I do not remember?). Here is a picture of the famous (Footage courtesy of the mind):
http://secuencias-de-mente.blogspot.com/2006/05/la-roqueseal.html
In my quest to find more signs shit (yes, I know: the origin and are quite horrific and unintentionally funny, especially the most recent seasons), I found this review Designer:
http://blog.rancdesign.com/index.php?id=8
Well, here we stop ... I'm going to the metro!
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