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Since my proper job doesn’t start until August 1, I’ve still been working with the temp agency. The elementary school gig ended and they’ve sent me to a local cable channel’s office to answer their phones. I’ve got my own access card to enter the building, because NO ONE bothers to come in to work. Literally. I’m the ONLY person here.

The place is super silent, with the only sounds coming from the air conditioning and muffled flushing from the restrooms down the hall. There wouldn’t even be any flushing if there weren’t people from a different company working on the other side of the building.

Over half the calls I take are wrong numbers. The other half are people asking if they can get copies of shows that have aired, because they couldn’t be arsed to set their VCRs in advance. I give the requests to the person who uses this office whenever they show up. Or, more precisely, I leave the requests on their desk because I’ve never actually SEEN who it is.

The only person I’ve seen on a regular basis works in this office with the lights out. I’m surprised he hasn’t blocked out the windows with aluminum foil.

The girl I’m filling in for left me a list of things to do each day. It’s the same list, no matter the day. #1 is to turn off the voice mail and take down any messages. #2 is to go get the mail and distribute it. That’s it. There’s no #3. As to the mail, the instructions say that anything addressed to The Manager should be opened and placed in “the brown envelope” marked MAIL on her desk. The first day I went in to her office to look for this alleged envelope and was unable to locate it. I couldn’t find the desk, either.

I looked behind where I thought the desk might be, but still couldn’t find the envelope. I found some empty boxes that previously held cans of root beer, though.

Finally, I checked behind the door. While I found a lot of stuff, no brown Mail envelope came to the surface. I just placed the mail in her chair, in the hopes that she’d notice it before she sat down.

The best part of the job is that I’m the only one here. Which translates in to non-stop, paid-for loafing.

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