Wanderings

I recently was offered and turned down a full time sales job, pooh-poohing the 10$ per hour salary.

“Me! A Wellesley graduate!” I huffed.

I told myself something better would soon come along, and sure enough, a few evenings later, a beacon of hope appeared on craigslist. The heading was in all capitals and a few of its words were misspelled, but the important part was the numbers it touted: 15-18$ per hour!

“Now that’s more like it,” I said, clicking on the link. Personable, outgoing salesperson? Desire to work flexible hours? Knack for customer service? Check, check, check. I hurried to scribble down the phone number, and call Brittany at reception.

It was a woman named Amy who answered, but she seemed duly impressed with my credentials. She repeated my first name a lot, and laughed at all of my jokes.

“Elizabeth, you seem like a great candidate,” she said. “I don’t usually do this, but I am going to pull my boss aside when I see him and give him your name. I’m also going to get you an interview tonight at 6:30.”

“Wow,” I said. “Thanks, Amy!”

She sent me a confirmation email, and I scrolled through it to verify the appropriate dress code. Curious, I then googled the name of the company, “Vector Marketing.”

Before I could even finish typing, the words “Vector Marketing Scam” had popped up as a suggested search.

“Uh oh,” I said. Twenty minutes later I had a cancelled interview, a broader perspective on the world, and was calling my mother at her office.

“How’d you like to have a daughter with a job selling knives?” I asked.

“Oh boy,” she said.

“You know, I actually had a student who did that a few years ago,” she went on, “so I bought one to help her out. Now it’s my favorite knife!”

That evening I went on a walk with some friends and neighbors, and it turned out everyone had had an experience with Vector Marketing and Cutco, which is basically a pyramid scheme where you solicit everyone you know for business.

“My daughter was doing that for a while,” said one neighbor, “she made about 4,000 bucks!”

“A good 1,000 of that was from me,” said another neighbor. “I was practically broke at the time but I wanted to help her out. So don’t come hitting me up, Lizzie, I’m still paying for the first set!”

I briefly considered hocking the knives at my college graduation. What with all the benevolence and champagne and charitable alumnae, I could probably make enough to pay off my student loans.

“I graduated from Wellesley,” a sign around my neck could read, “and look at me now!”

But instead, I turned back to scouring the depths of craigslist. It’s rather painfully amusing to see my web page history; “Call for Topless Waitresses,” “Armenian Translators Needed,” “Full Time Mechanic,” “Are You Qualified to be an Egg Donor?”

Oh, and a google search on “rational decision-making.” I think I might be beyond help.