I have been working through a temp agency this summer, which has been really fun. Well, mostly fun. The beauty of temp work is that it changes every week, so you have some that are better than others, but I love every assignment being different. It also gives you the flexibility to take off a week here or there if you have planned vacations or anything (which is a main reason I’m doing it).
The one down side is that sometimes you get jobs that are difficult, strange, or just plain awkward. Yesterday was one such job. I won’t go into details of companies or names, but this may serve as a cautionary tale about the dangers of internet promises. The lady at the staffing agency told me they had a job for me yesterday afternoon, only for a few hours. She said she wanted me to tell her all about it, though, because they “don’t usually do jobs like this,” and she wasn’t sure how it would be. I was told it would be data entry type stuff, with other miscelaneous duties thrown in. It would be in a man’s basement.
I entered the room - a dim, wood-paneled room from the 70’s - and met an older gentleman. We’ll call him Dr. Robertson. He seemed very excited for me to be there, and proceded to tell me his plans to save the world. He was going to take people off the streets and give them homes and food, and fix the prison system, and put kids in schools, and demolish unemployment. His plan was very secretive because it was so revolutionary. He would raise the money for it by paying other people, through temp agencies, to make the money for him. Then he gave me a printed out webpage of Paid Survey Program, one of these databases for companies that will pay you to take online product surveys. I was supposed to do that. For him. And we were supposed to make $50-100 that day. This website charged him $40 to sign up, which he informed me he’d done previously, but I couldn’t find their login page anywhere, and as far as I could tell, there was no way to log in, and he’d just been robbed $40. I know there are places that will pay you for surveys, but this was not one of them - it was just a “database,” which, itself, wouldn’t pay you, and you’d have to still register with each individual company - and regardless,there’s no way we’d be making the kind of money he was expecting filling out surveys.
Since there was no login page, I spent the day searching for his login information that he said he printed out, which would have been possible - he printed out every page he went to online and stuck it in one of 50 binders - if there had even been a login account possible.
He had me get into his email to see if the login was emailed to him (which it wasn’t), but I made some more discoveries. On the left side of his inbox were file folders, like any normal emailer, but he had a million, and each was a different internet get-rich-quick scheme. The ones you see all over the internet and once you sign up for one, your spam mail builds up with the “offers” other eager scammers send you. It was really sad. I remember when he tried to get into Paid Survey Program, an ad popped up, “OWN YOUR OWN DOLLAR STORE, $30″, and he hurried to click on it, saying, “That’s too good to pass up!”
When he finally gave up on the Paid Survey Program, he had me look up the numbers for the biggest oil companies available. His calls would sound something like this:
Receptionist: Hello, this is Sinclair Oil
Dr. Robinson: Hello, may I speak to the president?
Receptionist: I’ll transfer you to his secretary.
One time he talked directly to the president of the company. I’ll never forget it.
President: Hello?
Dr. Robinson: Hello, I am Dr. Robinson and I am trying to get the word out about a wonderful new fuel additive. I’ll be in town tomorrow, will you have time to sit down and talk about it?
President: Well, I’m not the one who usually does anything about that. You really want our plant down in Texas -
Dr. Robinson: Well do you have time to talk about it tomorrow? How about 2:00?
President: Like I said, I really can’t do anything for you, but -
Dr. Robinson: Sir, I know that you will love this fuel. Can I come by tomorrow?
President: I guess so, yeah, that will work. 2:00 then.
Dr. Robinson: Thank you.
The most awkward conversation I’ve ever had to listen to. Then I listened to him call the governor. And the governor’s son, and make appointments with them, as well. If he couldn’t get appointments, he was just going to drop something by for them.
I asked him what it was he was selling. It was this chemical used to clean fuel and improve gas mileage that was designed by someone local, but who wasn’t a good marketer. He then explained to me that if you ever want to “move something” (i.e. a product), multi-level marketing was the way to go. It was a multi-level marketing deal, and he was targeting the big guys. Not a bad plan, but he had no idea how to go about it, poor man, and he believed implicitly in his product, as he did with all the other scams he bought into.
The last straw for me was not when he asked me to start calling presidents of companies, trying to sell this product that I knew nothing about and had my doubts as to its legitimacy, it was when he asked if he could put my picture in the email he was sending to his hopefuls. I was supposed to be his advertisement. I told him I was absolutely not comfortable with that and he asked if he could just take my picture and not send it. Nope. No way. He then opened a giant binder on the table, showing me dozens of pictures of other girls (he took their pictures at the mall — I asked), saying he might put one of their pictures in the email. “Now wouldn’t that just brighten an executive’s morning?” Creepy.
He really is a victim. These are the kinds of people scammers prey on. They’re generally older, haven’t been exposed to the internet as much, and are a little more vulnerable and gullible. It’s a horrible thing to do. I am writing this man a friendly, anonymous letter to try to kindly tell him that he’s losing money, but I am quite happy to be done with that assignment. I informed the staffing agency that they might want to terminate their part in this poor man’s downfall.