Usually what seems like breaking news to me happened months ago for other people, gentle reader, though I believe I have a useful tidbit for you tonight. If you live in the Midwest, you should know your time has come.
Credit reports, were you to ask me about them last year, are trifles entertained by only your leasing agent and the local bank. I could never justify paying actual money to view my report, since I figured I could easily peer over the shoulder of my personal banker and discover, to my timely relief, no red marks on my record.
Apparently it’s much more important. I wouldn’t recommend requesting your report too many times, as they log each inquiry, but the occasional peek seems wise. And hey! You get a free one each year. A word of warning: the verification questions threw me for a loop. Example:
When you murdered your neighbor’s prize hog in January 2005, what weapon did you use?
A. Bare hands
B. Corn
C. Hoe
D. Ho’
E. Gumption
F. None of the above
How did you dispose of the carcass?
A. Magic
B. George Foreman Grill
C. Furtively
D. Ho’
E. Tossed it on my cat
F. None of the above
Now, even though these aren’t the exact questions I answered, the phrasing is very, very close. If a lawyer unleashed these in court, she would be shot down for leading the witness. Just remember to answer honestly. That’s all I can tell you.
Many of you caught in the working world may face the unenviable task of asking for a raise, especially at the start of a new year, and to that end I’ve decided to share my guide for negotiating these tricky financial waters.
We all love the fruits of salary negotiation–I don’t think this question will ever arise on Crossfire or somesuch–but the art, the very rub of the matter, is how to shake the tree. You can rattle the tree with ignorant hands and stare slackjawed as a leper dislodges himself from a branch, happily wrapping his legs around your neck, or you can watch speechlessly as a leprous hippopotamus falls on your head. The latter happens on bad days.
You ask, “Do you have the background to offer such advice?” Of course I do. Over the decades, I’ve helped thousands of people lose their jobs, sometimes within mere hours, and I owe this to my superior training. Your next incisive question goes, “From whence did you receive your training?” First of all, only people from the Middle Ages use the word “whence.” Second of all, I visited Monster.com once or twice. Or was it a Hotjobs.com ad I saw on a bus somewhere? I don’t remember.
Dress to Regress
Clothes can make the man, says the adage, and clothes can also make the man into a woman, but that’s irrelevant to today’s discussion. Fact is, your supervisor sees your accouterments as soon as you step through the door, using them to inform both character judgment and pay. Isn’t that terrifying? Eyes are the windows to the soul, says another stale adage, but the clothes? Those are the curtains, and I’m done with these stupid proverbs.
Your first instinct is to grab those newly washed slacks or that fetching cocktail dress, but wait a moment. Stuff those fine articles into the furnace and listen to me. The answer to your wardrobe insecurities is simplicity itself. Dress like a whore. Ideally you’d dress like a whore of Babylon or, even better, Gomorrah.
Why? Because those are what we are. Whores. Corporate whores. Dirty, dirty whores.
Let Your Head Be Hunted
Some recruiters insist on calling during office hours, which is fine. It’s not like you want your current gig anyway, so what better way to spend your “downtime”? Yes, I suppose “euchre” is a viable answer, but please work with me.
Having your headhunters ring your cellphone during the annual company meeting, while classy, is really a wasted opportunity. The smarter thing to do is schedule a call during your performance review, preferably right when you’re in the thick of it. There’s only one reason for doing this: it shows you’re important.
I’d recommend picking up your phone sometime after slapping your boss upside the head but not before sweeping his papers off his desk. Timing is critical, as it is with most things.
Just Cry
Nothing inspires confidence like outright weeping. I hope you don’t need me to walk you through the particulars of squeezing tears out of your ducts, because that would make me sniffle. Let’s focus on the rationalization, shall we?
Everyone needs a good cry now and then. That’s basically it.
For added drama, wipe your nose on your boss’s sleeve when you’re good and ready. That’s why it’s there, for crying out loud.
“Why are you angry?” asked Muse over a cup of coffee today. “Is it something I did, something I said?”
“No, of course not,” I replied, tired beyond words.
“Then what?”
This question, however direct and appropriate it seemed, only put me in a fouler mood.
“Today was fine,” I started to recount. “The weather was fine. Work was fine. Everything is fine.”
Muse, and bless her for this, found my throwaway answer simply insulting.
“So what is it? Are you sure it’s not me? Is it us?” came her pointed question.
“No, no. I’m glad this all happened. I’m glad we happened. And sometimes I’m made speechless.”
“Do you need anything?” she pressed.
“Time. I just want some time.”