The Even Greater Tokyo Region

The Non-Chronological Chronicled Misdeeds of an Immigrant Labourer: Part II

With it becoming clear that it might be far-fetched to find work until February, I signed up for a job for the duration of December. December, the month of Christmas. It is no coincidence then, that this job was for the postal service, sorting mail during this, the busiest time of year.

Fun fact: The actual job is even more boring than "Mail-sorting" sounds. You know, you picture a giant conveyorbelt with an endless amount of letters, and you put them onto other conveyorbelts. At least, that was the image that I had. But no, the job entails sitting at a computer, where the scanned picture of letters comes up, and you type in the post-code and house number. That's exactly all there is to it.

To see if I might be a viable candidate, I was immediately asked to do a practice excercise at a computer in the temping agency. The girl explained it to me, and 90 seconds later she left me alone to finish the excercise.

I finished, and the final time came up. I had completed it within 16 minutes. The target was 5 minutes 30 seconds. Okay, so speed was key. I tried again and completed it in 7 minutes. They agreed to allow me a trial day (unpaid) at a later stage, and sent me away with a CD with the post-sorting program. I sign up for a job, and I get a computer game to take home! Sweet! If I was fast enough on the trial day, I would get the job.

So, over the next few days, I practiced at home, reminding myself where the buttons are on the keyboard, and learning how to read people's handwriting in the process. My god, some people have awful handwriting. I don't understand. We postal sorters don't ask much. Only that you write about 10 digits neatly enough to be read. Writing an address messily is like a hot girl asking for your phone number, and you give her a false number. I suspect that these messy-writers are the same people who drive 60kmph on the highways and change lanes without warning.

So, I got well under the 5:30 for the same test, only I was a little bit worried because of some special code nuances. Hopefully I could work those out on the day. It would just be very very irritating if I failed, and had to try again before December.

So, I was told to wait for a bus outside a Metro station on the other side of Rotterdam. I wanted to leave a good impression, so I made sure I was early. I well overdid it, and was 45 minutes early. I bought a coffee and made it last the 45 minutes. Then I waited at the X where the temping agency had drawn on a map.

I waited for 20 minutes in the biting cold. My phone rang. The bus would be late. They didn't add details like how late. Never mind. I waited another 20 minutes. I called them. They told me to wait another 15 minutes, and then added a little detail that it was a small blue bus. Shit, I had seen an unmarked, small blue bus about 10 minutes earlier, but nowhere near the X. And noone had called me then. Great. So, in defeat, I retreated home. I would have to try again tomorrow.

I have become so good at failure, I failed even before I had a chance to fail. Now, that is talent. Obviously, I am not impressed by the temping agency or the postal service, so please, until further notice, do not send me any letters. Or if you really need to, write the address with your feet, while you are driving. That'll learn them.