Not long ago, I was working for a company that I am going to refrain from calling out by its actual name, but for the sake of this blog, let's call it "Ass Salon." It was fairly embarrassing to be working for a company of a similar name that I couldn't even share with my Grandma, but at first, the opportunity was not only attractive, it appeared to be a dream job with tons of potential. My bosses seemed to be nice, young, cool individuals who appreciated talent. (I went through five interviews and quite a few tests just to get hired).
Sadly, I couldn't have been more mistaken about the role.
Unfortunately, these people were wolves in sheep's clothing. After the requisite "honeymoon" phase, everything changed. Despite the fact that I was working around the clock, (the red flashing light on the Blackberry a constant reminder that I was on call 24/7), I inevitably wound up being underpaid, under-appreciated, manipulated and lied to on a fairly regular basis.
I was warned by fellow colleagues, but I chose to believe otherwise. I figured that with hard work and determination, I could turn it all around. I would rise to the challenge! I would negate the crappy office environment with a healthy dose of positivity and good cheer! I went so far as to attend a lecture by a "Gen Y Self-Help Guru" (who happened to be a burnt-out publicist herself), at the request of my former boss, who also attended. This was shortly after I had requested a well-deserved raise which I didn't receive. Call it kismet, but at this very lecture, the topic of which was "Knowing Your Worth," my boss leaned over and asked me if I hated her, (after a few nervous giggles).
A month or so later, I was taking 1/4 of a Xanax every morning to prevent the heart palpitations I was having at my desk on a daily basis. I had also started packing on the pounds. After spending nearly a year dropping 40 lbs., I managed to heap 20 back on. Rather than being a
Operations at the Ass Salon company were a total joke. They had hired a team of talented people and wouldn't let anyone actually do their jobs! A meeting spawned a meeting, that spawned a meeting, that spawned a plan, that spawned a meeting, that spawned another plan, that spawned a few more meetings, and so-on-and-so-forth. It was no wonder that I was literally losing my mind. It was also telling that I had discovered they had gone through 5 or so design firms and 5 or so PR agencies, among other roles in as many years as they had been in business. Clearly nobody was up to snuff.
As a publicist, I am supposed to maintain a certain code of ethics... and refrain from badmouthing clients or colleagues, but for months now, I have needed to get this off of my chest. The bottom line is that I have never, ever been treated as poorly as I was during this time. I've had my fair share of less-than-sensational bosses, but this situation truly resided in a league of its own.
The egomaniacal husband-and-wife team of trolls at Ass Salon literally sucked the life out of me, (along with many others who I grew to respect). After promises that "the hard work would pay off," and frequent reminders that I, "...had a home there," I was essentially laid off. The best part? Those jerkoffs didn't even let me take home my personal belongings, or acquire the massive contact database I'd spent the better part of a year forming relationships with. I was treated like a common criminal, despite the fact that I had kicked serious ass, (no pun intended), in my role there. They determined what they deemed to be my personal belongings and brought them to me in boxes at a local Starbucks. I wasn't even permitted to say goodbye to my coworkers. It was as if I was working for Apple or Cisco, but certainly not the Ass Salon.
I spent a long time second-guessing myself, but came to terms with the fact that I was working for lunatics who were desperately grasping at straws to save their own hides.
Fortunately, I wasn't around for their annual convention of sales reps peddling sex toys clad in all white. That must've been something.
You're probably wondering what on earth this has to do with having children?
Well, one of my then-bosses was evidently pregnant nearly the entire time I was there. Let me just say, I am thrilled that I will not go through that bullshit nine month phase where I blame all of my bitchiness, mood swings and generally shitty attitude on pregnancy and assume I can get away with it.
So, yay me!!! I win! Oh, and I have a kick-ass new gig as well.
(Enjoy the picture of the insanely pregnant Octomom, courtesty of TMZ)
