Trying Times of Temping

The last two days I have spent eight hours date stamping. Being a temp is not a glamorous job, now is it mind boggling. It's numbing in fact. You're given the worlds most mundane tasks and are expected to do them for hours at a time. I have been stamping thousands of papers over and over again with the date Jun 29, 2009. Over and over again.

It gets me out of the house and gives me a little spending money. It's not my life's calling, but I am doing it because it seems that no real jobs will hire me to do work that involves, you know. What's it called? Oh, yes. Thought.

A week ago when I came into this company and was asked to sort junk (or as they call it there BAD) mail for 8 hours. Stamping in a room full of about nine other temps seemed like a blessing. When I first started date stamping I apparently sucked because I would mess up a stamp every thousand pages. You'll be happy to know that after 16+ hours of practice I can stamp for without messing up one stamp. That may go on my resume. I have also perfectly a way of stamping so many palm does not get sore so quickly. For the other temps who pound viciously on their stamp will wake tomorrow with a mild case of carpal tunnel syndrome. Yet, they laughed at me because I took my time when stamping and rested my hands every now and then.

Here's the secret other temps. Listen to me closely . . . You listening? We have 270,000 pieces of papers to stamp. Did you hear that? You're not getting paid by the sheet, you're getting paid for accuracy. You finish 9000 pages in one day they won't care if some of the dates are smudged or redone. That's why at the end of the day. I was asked to stay and work a little later and the rest of you when home exactly at 5.

I'm taking the simple triumphs and making them my own. Because when you're a temp, the simple wars have the greatest victories. Especially at the end of this day . . .

It was a group of about 12 of us Temps in one room. ALL date stamping. Some people listening to music and two temps talking. Two talking temps who chat and talk and gab and never shut up. They talk about anything they can think of. You simply would need to open your mouth and say a word. They would jump on it and it was gone!

Michael Jackson, VHS Tapes, 9/11, the blackout of 2003. This one temp had the uncanny ability to link a personal story to each and every topic someone brought up. It wasn't just a comment, it was the truth as he told it. And the voice he had was loud, his volume control seemed to be broken and he could only speak in a deep booming voice about everything. Thank God we were all date stamping, or it would've carried across the office. This man's life story is told through a series of stamps and clamps made while he spoke.

I saw there before lunch enthralled with his complete lack of awareness of how far into the office he could be heard. He had to have an idea that the President of the companies office shared a sliding door with ours. HE HAD TO!? He kept openly saying, "How can a 6-8 week job suddenly change to a 3 day job?" He boomed this out loud and to no one in particularly. Every other temp merely shrugged. We'd all been told various things. I was told it would only take 2 weeks, others told 3-4 weeks. The loud temp was told the job would last from here to eternity. . .

All of this drama playing out amongst the drumming sounds of stamps hitting a table. There's no beat that's formed because people move at different speeds, they stop at different times. It's a John Cage wet dream. The day wears to an end and the supervisors enter the room.

When these Latina women walk onto the stage a transformation should be made. The gabbing goes and the sudden interest in date stamping commences. That should happen when anyone who is not a temp enters the room. Yet, the loud temp (in his age) doesn't seem to understand this rule yet. He keeps talking and talking and talking.

We're all a bit antsy. It's ten minutes to 5, but I have been asked to work later. I agree, because it means they like me and know I am dedicated to working. My ethics are in place and I'm not annoying.

A different temp offers to stay later too. She is an annoying on and is quickly brushed away, but not before they take the loud temp in the hall way and tell him he is fired. He walks back in and loudly declares to all the other temps (packing their bags to go home and intent on hopefully returning tomorrow), "We'll that's it. I'm a goner. It's been real."

There's some panic in the room. The Latin renters the room and says, "You can pack up and leave for tonight. Don't forget to fill out the time sheet." I stand up to ask her if she wants me to stay late and she points a finger and says, "You're not going anywhere!"

This causes more panic in the room. I have obviously been selected amongst others. It's A Chorus Line all over again and I feel just like Cassie. The ones leaving are nervous and manic. "Am I returning tomorrow?" I hear them whispering, "I stamped well enough. . ." And the loud Temp simply ponders, "I don't know what I did wrong." How about being annoying? That may have tipped the scale.

I feel nervous that they will not return to this office again. I feel secure that I will be returning to work. For more date stamping. Did I really win out in this power struggle?