For the past 6 or 7 years, I have spent a lot of time around people who work for temp agencies. For a couple of those years, I worked for one myself, so I was surrounded by other people who did too. At my current job, we’ve taken on so much side work that we actually have more people from temp agencies than people who actually work for us.
In my time with these people, I’ve come to realize that everyone that works for a temp agency falls into one of two categories: Those who rarely talk, or those who never shut up.
Out of the two, I certainly prefer the former. Out of the two, I was the former.
When I meet people for the first time, it usually takes me a while before I feel comfortable enough around them to open up. Of course, some of that is also because I tend to say inappropriate things and I need to guage whether or not someone will go running to my bosses if I say inappropriate things.
I’ve also found that I almost always come to dislike the people who never shut up. And, it’s not just that they don’t shut up that I don’t like them. It’s because most of them are full of shit too. Let me give you a few examples:
One guy said he ran his own business so successfully that a competitor overpaid to buy his company from him. If that was true, why is he working for a temp agency instead of starting a new business?
Another guy said that he had a summer home in Puerto Rico, yet he couldn’t afford a car.
The newest one is a girl who has told me her life story against my will. She apparently has two kids by two different dads. She’s on probation after spending some time in jail and when she meets with her probation officer she has to have her fingernails tested for drugs (which I didn’t know was a thing).
Now, I’m not saying she’s full of shit like the other two are, but if she’s telling the truth it kind of scares me. I’m all for giving people second chances and everything, but if she had a drug problem so bad that it required jail time and fingernail drug tests, I would think (and hope) that she wouldn’t have custody of her kids. It makes me wonder how bad the fathers are if she’s considered the better choice. Regardless, it is all information she shouldn’t be telling me that I didn’t want to hear in the first place.
Take today, for example. She’s in the room with me and another temp. For the first half of my day, I had to listen to her tell her story again (this time to the other guy) and the rest of the time those two were nonstop talking about life on the farm. My ears were decimated by crap from their noise holes about chickens, horses, ducks, and cows. I don’t give a shit about any of that.
If it had been a normal length conversation, I still would’ve been annoyed, but I would’ve tolerated it better. This talk, however, went on for almost 4 hours. When I was finally able to escape that room, my brain felt so violated that I considered going to the police and pressing charges.
I think I need a drink…