...only I didn't. Or at least I couldn't. Or at least I cancelled it.
"But why, Alice?" I hear you cry. "You who are desperate for full time employment and hate your current job with a passion: why would you do that??'
Simple. Long winded. But simple.
I applied for a position.
Administrative Assistant with responsibilities in data entry and record maintaining. Great. Full time. Also great. Within 30 minute walk of Birmingham station (which is a 45 minute train ride away). Less great, but it figures that no matter what job I find, I will have to commute to it as there is nothing locally.
Two days after that, the company responded.
A-Z Interpreting and Translation Services Ltd emailed and asked: "could I please call to arrange an interview?" Fantastic! I called, immediately. Arranged an interview for Tuesday 7th May (today) at 3pm. Then, as per my usual routine on (the rare occasion of) being asked to attend an interview, I decided to travel there a few days prior to learn the way and check that the journey was practical. As it was a Saturday and she had nothing else to do, mother agreed to come with me provided that I paid for the fare and brought her lunch, conditions I agreed to readily. So off we went; hightailed it to Kidderminster station, caught a train to Birmingham Moor Street, and using the directions from Google Maps and help from passers by to get us on the right track; started walking.
And that is where the trouble began.
For upon arriving at my supposed destination we found ourselves in a street that contained private houses. And only private houses. And the address I was supposed to report to was also a private residence. A very very small private residence that had only just been sold (the FOR SALE/SOLD sign was still there) and judging by our furtive glance in through the sitting room window was devoid of furniture with the exception of one long desk, two chairs and two computers.
Dodgy. Very.
My heart sank.
On the journey home again after a super healthy lunch at a deep fried chicken eatery, I tried very hard not to get upset - and didn't succeed very well - as mother tried - a little more successfully - to comfort me, and I tried very hard to keep an open mind. After all; businesses did sometimes use private addresses to practice in rather than office buildings, and not every business was very large. There could be a perfectly simple and honest explanation as to why a translation company purporting to be large and extremely successful was operating from the unfurnished sitting room of an incredibly small looking and apparently only just purchased bungalow.
Unfortunately, when we got home and I began researching into the company more thoroughly, my suspicions weren't quashed; but rather confirmed. Two more addresses were listed on various websites as the head office of this translation company, all three of them using the same telephone and fax number and website address and all three of them small private addresses. The company's own website - which was admittedly impressive looking - waxed lyrical about how brilliant they were but gave no reference to how long they had been trading. In fact, I found no proof online at all that the company had traded at all for any length of time. They were mentioned here and there on various business lists as a company trading out of central Birmingham, but were missing from every one of the main lists of officially registered translation companies.
Upon contacting the governmental job centre via email about this (as I had found the advert for the job on their online job search site), I was given the helpful generic response that they gave information regarding vacancies as drafted to them by the recruiting employers and that it was up to me whether or not I attended any interview or meeting arranged.
I talked to everyone I could think of and they all (for varying reasons) said the same thing: DON'T GO.
I slept on it for 24 hours.
Then I made the decision I mentioned at the beginning of the post and cancelled it. Any tiny niggles I had about letting an opportunity pass me by were drowned out by the screaming of my gut: this was a trick of some kind. I wasn't sure how or why, exactly - the popular opinion is it was a scam of some kind to gain access to my bank details. Although according to The Grandmama there was every probability that it was; "a trap laid by a serial killer" - but it was something that wasn't to be trusted in. One thing I was definitely certain of was that the administrative post advertised simply did not exist. No way ho-say.
So I cancelled it. And though on that Saturday I felt terrible and the disappointment is still raw inside of me four days later (I know; you tell yourself not to get your hopes up, but...), I know I made the right choice. I know I did.
Still feel shit about it though.
I know it will pass.
But right now... ugh. *sighs*
Bedtime, I think.
Goodnight, Blog.
xxx xxx xxx
No comments:
Post a Comment