The temp tells all

Ever wondered how boring it must be to temp for a living? Wonder no more! Read my blog and share my pain- no snoozing at the back now!

Wednesday, May 31, 2006

Take a break

For the first time in years, I'm without an assignment. It's quite a weird feeling, but it's by choice. My agent had a really amazing one coming up for me that starts next week and I really wanted that one so have held out for it and as a result couldn't take anything on. My two weeks at the plastic hellhole got worse. My internet access caused boardroom clashes and internal enquiries the likes of which haven't been seen since Dallas was off the air, so I was disconnected a paltry 48 hours after first logging on. The rest of my miserable assignment was spent phoning my friends, meeting Rob for lunch(and hearing how since he went gay his weekends have been a whirl of bad clubs, shaven heads, sex parties, amyl nitrate and more Class A's than Jim Morrison would have known what to do with) sharpening pencils and generally being bored out of my tiny fucking mind.

Next assignment is in a top City law firm with an impossibly long name and very plush offices. It's pretty long term because it's for maternity leave and the money's lovely so I'll be doing my utmost to look like one efficient motherfuckin' Receptionista. I'm hoping for a bit of Square Mile legal glamour and that as well as the drop dead hot lawyers, there'll be loads of interesting crims who've been up to all sorts. Knowing my luck, I'll have got the details wrong and it'll be lawyers for a small claims court and they'll be dealing with old men who wave their cocks at schoolgirls or menopausal shoplifters.

Wednesday, May 17, 2006

Fantastic plastic

New job not going well so far. I'm in a reception that's air conditioned up to the eyeballs, meaning erection of nipples is a permanent fixture. People seem whingey and depressed and everybody has been here about 200 years. Girl I'm filling in for has trapped her arm in a car door, which has got to be the most ridiculous excuse for not being able to pick up a phone I've ever heard. Boss is a moron called Tush (?) who wear synthetic fibres and clicks and electric shocks his way around the carpeted entree- last decorated in 1954. I have no idea what the firm does but it looks boring. I had no internet access until this morning because the receptionist doesn't usually have that privilege. What the fuck does the usual receptionist do all day? Work? She must be mental- no wonder she's trapping limbs in the doors of range rovers.

Hopefully my stay in this pit will be brief. My agency called to see how it was going and for an email address where I could be contacted. I said "I'm lucky to have a phone, love- it's like a museum here. How long until I get parole?" May agent's fake laugh tinkled down the receiver like someone pouring broken glass down a drainpipe and she told me that hopefully the girl I was replacing- I say girl but judging by her desk ornaments she's more of a gran- was not to be off long.

Met my new gay best friend Rob for lunch yesterday and was pumping him for questions about why- all of a sudden- he turned out to be taking it for the team instead of living his idyllic life with his girlfriend. He told me that when he realised he wasn't just going to the sports centre with her brother for a game of squash but also for a glance at his dick something wasn't quite right. Fair enough. Apparently his girlfriend didn't take the news that he was leaving very well and so he has lost a few shirts, suits and ties to some scissors along the way. Poor Rob.

Well, lunchtime waits for no-one so it's time for me to get out my pathetic sandwiches and try not to get too many crumbs in the keyboard. I get the feeling that the girl I'm standing in for is a clean freak. I might just throw a bit of cucumber down there to spice things up.

Friday, May 12, 2006

That Friday feeling

Today is my last day in this office. It's been a thrilling couple of months- not. Sara the embittered blonde has been off sick for the past few days, so I've pretended that I didn't even notice she was gone and made sure that I've left lots of messages on her work phone saying things like "Sara, I'm just popping out to lunch with (insert name of one of guys she fancies here), so if you need anything, call X and she'll help you." That should keep her going for the next few days when she gets back.

Le Boss doesn't want me to go and offered me a longer contract with more money. I politely declined, but said any time they needed anyone in an emergency, I'd be here. Over lunch today, Le Boss asked for my mobile number and I really didn't know how to react. I had him down for a loving, dutiful husband but I noticed that now all-too-familiar glint in the eye and realised the awful truth- he's just a big fucking bastard like all the rest. What a shame. I gave him the number, but will never pick up when he calls.

Rob (I've mentioned him before) asked for my number too. As he's not my boss and I don't need a reference from him, I could say "Look love, you've got a girlfriend and I am not the mistress type so fuck right off. How dare you!" He then explained that he had actually finished with his girlfriend and was now seeing a GUY so could I please stop being such a hostile bitch and give him my number. Ha! I did. And I will pick up.

So what does Monday bring? More Receptionista fun in a firm making plastics. Ooh now that sounds exciting.

Tuesday, May 02, 2006

The wicked witch of reception

My head is hurting as I write this. Yet again I overdid it at the weekend and so am caked in Touche Eclat to help avoid making people who visit reception when they see my eyebags- they're like hammocks.

I feel my time at this job is coming to an end. The temp agency hasn't phoned me for a while- they probably think I'm getting settled- but there's a bit of bitching and sniping going on that I could do without. Rather than buy me stuff from the deli on Frday like they said they would to cheer me up, some colleagues took me out for lovely, long lunch in the afternoon, with one of the PAs from upstairs who I really get on with offering to cover. Unfortunately for me, Sara, the embittered blonde who's always scuttling past my desk, now turns out to be absolutely madly in love with my boss despite the fact he doesn't know what her name is half the time and he is extremely happily married to the most gorgeous creature I've ever seen in all my days of scrutinising boss wives for imperfections. That my boss was among those wining and dining me was obviously too much for Sara and she felt I needed a dressing down.

When we got back, Sara was sitting on reception, stating that she sent the PA away because she was rubbish at reception. She was smiling at me like a cat that had just eaten a bowl full of cream and then done a shit in a dog's bed and I couldn't help but wonder why. Today I do know why. She's screwed up loads of filing, changed numbers on contact sheets so it's taken me five times to get people through to the right person or am phoning lunch orders through to mechanics and she's also rejected important deliveries.

Splitting on the evil cow to a boss isn't an option- I need my Receptionista reputation as one capable bitch to remain intact and no self-respecting temp would admit they were having a problem with a permanent member of staff, but I cannot let her get away with it. I reckon I'm going to haul my arse out of here in a week or two, but I want to make sure I exact my revenge on that witch before I do.