Posts Tagged ‘DATING’

The Subtle Pressure of Men

September 23, 2010

For pity sake, I am not a teenager. I haven’t been naive in a number of decades. I was fairly sure I have heard every come on and pick up line known to woman. And it just irritates the crap out of me when some guy assumes he can tiptoe past my bullshit meter to get in my panties. I much prefer the direct approach.

If it seems too good to be true…I don’t even have to finish that old maxim, because everyone knows how it ends.

I needed a second job (still do), so I replied to an ad in the paper to be a proofreader for a court reporter. What could be better than a job reading? Reading from home! Yesssssss! It didn’t take long to get a response. (Each of the screen shots you’ll see below are of actual mail exchanges. Identifying information has been blanked out, but it in no way alters the meaning. ) Here’s the reply I received:

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I think it’s reasonable to want to meet the person you’re going to work with, so I agreed to lunch, and we talked about where to eat.  I got this reply:

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Nice classic Italian place, a Memphis tradition. It was fine with me. I asked more about the job.

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Note that he said he would have the transcripts picked up or delivered back into his hands (at lunch, he said he would have his son pick them up at my house.)

On the morning of the day we were to have lunch, I received this change of plans:

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Fine, whatever. I don’t care about the place, I care about the job. I agreed. An hour before I need to leave, I received this mail:

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A few hours my ass. Try two, one of which I needed to shower and get ready, and three quarters of the other to drive to the restaurant. See the page count of the transcript below?

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I wrote back and told him I would need more time to get that much printed out. He replied:

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We don’t need it for lunch? There went my first alarm bell. Isn’t that what this lunch meeting is for? To learn what he needs me to do?  And if we don’t need it, then why send it to be printed out at the last minute?

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Last week? He means two days before. Nevertheless … The page count that MS Word in my computer gave was the correct count. However, it needs to be divided in half because there was a blank page between every printed page that I had to go through and remove.  Still, 240 is a far cry from “70-something.” What do you want to bet that he pays me for 70? (The answer comes at the end)

The Eurostyle restaurant was closed that day (thank goodness, as I looked up the menu online and it didn’t really appeal to me), so we ended up at Grisanti’s after all.  He requested a “quiet, secluded” table, where we talked for at least an hour before ordering. He seemed nice enough. It’s always good to be able to talk about books with someone, so I can’t say I didn’t enjoy it, and lunch was eventually delicious. When I got home, I wrote and thanked him again for lunch. And he said:

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So nothing is wrong? Good. The next day, I began printing out the work, but couldn’t get Word to place four pages of the transcript on one page to print, so I wrote and asked for instructions.

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The next day:

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He seemed like a nice guy, but that’s just wishful thinking on his part.  He’s not ugly, he’s not…I don’t know…he’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with him per se, but I wasn’t that attracted to him. And it sounds a little …desperate. Nothing is less attractive than desperation or neediness. And the breakup of my marriage is so fresh, that I’m still kind of reeling. Also, I’ve been married my entire adult life. I don’t want to get involved with anyone! Another relationship is the absolute last thing on my mind right now. I need to concentrate on getting my life on track so I can take care of myself. So his timing couldn’t be worse.

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This is where I began to think he wasn’t as interested in having a proofreader as he was  in having a date. I wrote back:

Don’t be silly. I am going to love this job. I’m about halfway done with it. I’m sorry I had a couple of urgent errands I had to take care of today and did not complete as much of it as I would have liked. I did have a lot of problems printing it out though. I just couldn’t get the four page thing to work … and he replied:
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I didn’t know where the Dean Martin reference came from. It was never mentioned at lunch. I followed that with questions about taxes and 1099’s.  The next day, I sent him a note to let him know the transcript was complete. And he said he’d be in court, so we would have to hook up the day after. The day in question, I sent him a note to let him know I would be sleeping and he should call to wake me when he needed to get his transcript. I hoped his day was good and his case interesting.  The next day, I got this:
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Darling? At a minimum? What does that mean?
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Funny thing. He never once mentioned me having to drive anywhere to deliver the work, nor reimbursing me for gas. I did not have a good feeling about it. He was either trying to get me in his house, or he wanted me to see it. I saw it all right. It’s huge (which makes me think something else must be very small). It has a long drive with a big fountain centered in front of it. Very, very nice, but I would have been a lot more impressed if he hadn’t contrived and connived to get me there to see it. And the feeling that he was trying to “buy” me by impressing me with all that money gave me an icky feeling.
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Then came this:
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“Let’s hook up for social stuff between now and the next transcript?” Is this not beginning to sound like I have to date him to get more work? I ignored it, and told him I had to sleep. I am now working two jobs–when exactly, does he think I have time to socialize?
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*eyeroll* That’s when I busted him for it. Maybe I could have been a little nicer about it, but I had just had a run-in with another prick in the form of my landlord, so I let loose, and while I wish I still had the job, I don’t regret telling him how it is. I’m colorful that way.
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Today, I got a check for $96. Hello? He thinks I can’t count and divide?  Let’s review the page count: 481. Half of those were blank pages, leaving 240. At fifty cents a page, which is what he agreed to pay me, I get $120. Plus my paper and ink, and now my gas.  Forget it. Good riddance.