That M’f’er tried to sell me life insurance!!

Posted: September 27, 2012 in Self-Deprecation
Tags: , , , ,

Why hello my little cans of digital spam, I promised you a new article– a new beginning if you will– and here I am delivering like a boss.  Well.  Maybe not like a boss, and more like a cubicle peon, but the delivery has been made.  That’ll be $19.98 plus tip.  Back to the task at hand…  catching you all up on where the hell I’ve been hiding.

Let’s see… oh yes, my brand spanking new career.  Now, before I let my brainwaves defecate into your corneas, I feel the need to preface this.  This is probably the first job I’ve had (in a very long time), where I haven’t felt compelled to make jokes about how I procure a paycheck.  Let’s see, when I was in college, I made jokes (as a waiter) that my English degree would make me extremely eloquent with “would you like fries with that?”  I worked at the Olive Garden, but hey– you get the picture, we’ve all told the jokes.  Don’t lie.

Then came the job at Rent-a-Center, which financially took care of me, but required a different approach.  I was no longer in school, and I didn’t have the textbook fall-back of “working through college” to circumvent the unsatisfying nature of the job.  Instead, when I was asked about what I did for a living– I merely retorted, “I’m a professional asshole.”  Seeing how I got promoted within my first year at the job there– apparently my friends were right when they described it as a typecast role.

Right back atcha, bastards.

I don’t know, it just seemed fitting.

Annnnyway, one thing led to your mother, then I dropped off the face of the planet, and then it got cold in Hell.  How, you ask?  I momentarily abandoned cynicism when I got a fateful phone call, and thought what they were describing sounded good.  The girl on the other end of the phone tossed a generalized pitch at me, and instead of wondering why I was getting an interview request from my monster.com resume posting (not even an application)–  well hell, I saw that pitch and took a big-ass swing at it.  After all, I’d been having relatively little luck on the job market, so that defense mechanism of “waaaaaaait a second” didn’t turn on.  Apparently defensive cynicism is a subscription service, and my broke ass must’ve been behind on the payments.  Who knew?

Fast forward– I got hired.  Or I should say, I got sold– which is a feat in and of itself.  As expected, there was a certain degree of misinformation involved in the initial process.  After I’d waded into the smoke and mirrors, I realized I had already invested a good deal of time/money/effort in getting licensed (unlike Wall Street, insurance is ridiculously regulated).  Not to mention, I’m working in an environment that is… disturbingly positive.

Savor this image for a moment: a dyed-in-the-wool cynic with a sarcastic streak a mile wide working in an office where positivity is slung around like a frat mattress among prospective pledges.  Needless to say, I had to drink the Kool Aid.  When I say drink the Kool Aid, I mean I had to do it Charlie Sheen style– because a major attitude adjustment was in order just to fit in.  Odds are I’ll joke on this later.

What do I do for a living?  I initially signed on board to handle the benefits for unions, like the cops, firefighters, teachers, boilermakers, operating engineers, etc. etc. etc.  I help people protect their families.   It seems an incongruous fit since I despise sales with a passion beyond hatred, and refuse to use traditional “life insurance agent tactics.”  My biggest hurdle?  This:


Can’t fix stupid.

Now for your moment of zen:  I get to look people dead in the eye, tell them they are going to die, and then profit.  I have, quite literally, become the merchant of death.  But I protect families.  Ow.  My head.  Ow.

Needless to say, my friends are facepalming.

Unplug.

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Comments
  1. Bonus points for the MTG reference

  2. […] metalhead, and they’re listening to a ton of club music, hip hop, and rap.  My love of the Kool Ade has allowed these blasphemies to my musical cannon bleed into my psyche, and I’ve found […]

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