You break out your brand new $150,000 degree and then they tell you – Humanities is more of a way of life than a qualification for a job. So you take a job in one of those personal assistance companies that are springing up everywhere. You’re a Fulfillment Specialist. You’re the genie in the bottle ready and waiting for client wishes to fulfill.
Clients call for theatre tickets, reservations at celebrated restaurants, an intense massage – no, not that kind. There are things you don’t like. The food orders. You’re not supposed to do food but company policy says if the client asks, you find a way. Sushi in Iowa? Consider it done.
You’re good at this. You’re promoted to the international division. Visions of exotic destinations dance in your head. Then you find out you will work from a “Quiet Room” in the building pretending to be in exotic places. Bummer. The client in Venezuela wants a Mushroom Swiss Burger. You find a way, thanks to fast fingers and Google. It really is like you’re down the street. Isn’t technology awesome?
One day your stupidity takes over and you decide that you’ll forward the office phone to your mobile. You’re not supposed to do that. But your boss is away. Someone calls from Dubai. Sure you’ll run out and grab him some happening ski gear for his trip to Dubai’s indoor ski hill. Your fingers fly across the keyboard. Then it happens.
Sirens fill the air. A huge fire is going on just across the street. The ruckus sounds like it’s right in the room with you. Your client on the phone panics. He thinks the fire is nearby and he has emotional baggage about fires. You’re supposed to be in Dubai, remember? He has an anxiety attack. Holy summit of Mount Washington, your life is so over. But this wasn’t you. This was just a learning experience on how not to be a fulfillment specialist.