Interview With the Vampires
After the corner, I saw a long hallway leading to another corner. I kept walking and turned the corner. Another long hallway- this time followed by a lonely metal door with “Suite 204″ posted with nondescript engraving. I stepped through the metal door and entered a lobby of sorts… basically a widened version of the hallway with three doors on my left hand side. There was a tarp banner that said “Combined,” with little wall decor, and no receptionist behind what was probably supposed to be a counter, but looked more like a half-wall.I heard people screaming in a meeting room, and a hurried man rushed to greet me with half a smile. He said: “You must be here for the interview.”
“Of course I am.” I told the man.
“Quick, fill out this paperwork, I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
I was thrown a job application that looked very much like the one I would fill out to work in a restaurant or a supermarket. I filled it out and waited patiently for the man to come back.
When I was finally rejoined, the man (without telling me his name) wisked me away to his office where he proceeded to interview me. He asked me a few generic questions about myself and made his pitch about the company.
Combined Life Insurance is yet another pyramid marketing company in the spirit of the Vector Marketing company, which as we all know is that shady marketing corporation that attempts to persuade college students to push knives door-to-door on unsuspecting housewives. You start as a trainee, move up to a junior sales rep, then up further to a sales rep, before you can even think about being promoted to management. There is no steady salary, there is no base income. A college degree is not only unrequired, but highly unexpected. There is three months of training in another city, there is a mandatory trip to chicago, and there are fees upon fees. There is no HR department, no IT department, no third-party consulting group, nothing. Just salesmen bossing around other salesmen.
I politely allowed this man to continue pitching me his company, telling me that there was not just comission, but four other ways to earn income. All 4 were different euphemisms for the term “residual commission,” which if you ask me, is like trying to sugar-coat Anchovies. I had enough. I politely thanked the man for his time and acted interested. I picked up the phone later that night and respectfully declined the sales oppurtunity.
I would like the chance to do more rewarding work with my college degree, perhaps in the field of Organizational Planning. Maybe if you’re reading this you can help me find that kind of job. Or maybe I should just give up and write more enthralling tales of mysterious corporations.
