Wednesday, August 12, 2009

Division of Labor and the Origins of the Switchboard Girl

In a mega-office such as mine whose aesthetic provides all the visual interest of a North Dakota landscape, people are by far the most interesting thing to watch. And approaching this microcosm with an understanding of how society divides and people based on gender, race, and sexuality (among myriad other factors), it has become painfully clear to me how labor is assigned, and how people are treated, accordingly.

Office workers are divided into 3 categories:

1) Head Honchos- people with the most power, decision making and otherwise, in the office. They get paid the most for doing the least- delegate, delegate, delegate! They are, not surprisingly, almost all white dudes.

2) Regular Office-folk. They do the actual money making for the company. Some people sell things and some people market things. I'm not entirely sure what those things are, but knowing what the company does seems irrelevant to actually working here so I don't care.

3) Support staff- assistants, facilities staff, temps and me. The assistants are all women, gay or both (ME!); most likely because most straight guys are steered toward higher-paying entry-level jobs. Occupying this category has made me realized that holding a low-level job actually causes people to care less about you. Depressing, huh? People are rude; they demand instead of ask. They talk in front of me like I’m not there; however, this behavior has turned into one of the more interesting aspects of my job as people will stand near me to hate on their boss or tell the story of a one-night stand without regard to my presence. What I cannot stand, however, is when people refer to me by something other than my name. Just because I don’t get paid very much does NOT mean you don't have to learn my name and call me by it.

List of Names People Have Called Me...
sweetheart
kidd-o
Janice (not my name)
Melanie (also not my name)
missy
doll [seriously- I'm beginning to think I'm in a gangster flick]
the switchboard girl

I am NOT joking. An older man called, and when unsatisfied with my ability to produce an individual who was not in the office, asked if he was speaking with "the switchboard girl". I became indignant and tried to inflate my meager job title as much as possible, "No you are not. I am the receptionist for the corporate office in New York."

Yeah, way to show 'em kidd-o.

What I meant was "I’m the switchboard girl WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU??"

1 comment:

  1. haha, oh, sweetie! Makes me just want to give you a piece of candy, like a Werther's Original to make you feel allll better!

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