I've always liked P ever since I discovered him online. He's hot, sexy, got a good head on his shoulders, open-minded, and is sex-positive. Before I thought he was out of my league (he's tweeted about the hot guys he's hooked up with), but when I found out that he also liked daddy-types, I took a chance. Happily, it was also good of him to give me a chance, too.
Since it was his birthday recently, I wanted to give P something that meant stripping down to our birthday suits again. Unfortunately he was free only on a weekend. But that Saturday I was also invited to a "group fun" session in a hotel in QC. I've been with these guys before, and they're a safe, fun group. So I took a chance and invited P to go with me to this group fun thing. He agreed, saying it had been a while since his last orgy. Happy f*cking birthday, indeed.
When we got to the place, one of our hosts/sponsors (the guys who paid for the room, so that their guests don't have to pay for anything) immediately took a liking to P. I let P decide for himself how he'll behave with the group. Since P was my guest, I didn't want it to look like I wanted him only for myself that night. After all, it is an orgy; had I done that, it would appear that either I'm being possessive (which is an unwritten no-no in a group fun), or I just used the orgy as an excuse to get a free room for P and I to fuck in. But I also kept an eye on him the whole night to make sure he was okay and having fun, especially when our host kept coming back to him. As in, literally. Binakuran siya.
Since it was an orgy, I made the rounds and played with whoever wanted to play with me. But I also got to fuck P at one point, because I didn't want our host to be the only one enjoying himself with P. (Strangely, there was a point when I felt slightly competitive--that was when our host kept banging away, and P would go, "Oooh shet ansarap! G-spot! G-spot!" which meant his sweet spot was being hit.)
By the third or fourth time our host (let's call him Host 1) mounted P again, I thought, "Fine, I can always hook up with P in private next time." One of the other hosts (let's call him Host 2) had been watching Host 1 the whole night. As Host 1 was banging away doggie-style with P, with me beside the two of them in the bed, Host 2 went up to me and said loudly for Host 1 to hear, "McVie, thank you for bringing P, ha."
I thought to speak out the obvious: "Uhm, parang nakakasira ng moment yung pinasasalamatan mo ako sa harap nila." That got me and Host 2 giggling.
Soon enough, I heard P laugh as well and mumble to Host 1, "O, lumambot ka, ano?"
Host 1 (more to Host 2 than to me): "Puntang ina n'yo. Nasira ninyo momentum ko eh. Punyeta kayo." and dismounted P. Which made Host 2 and I laugh out loud even more.
Laughter is the best medicine. And the sweetest revenge.
Monday, January 29, 2018
Friday, January 26, 2018
One More Time
I always fancied him the first time we were introduced more than five years ago. Unfortunately he was in a relationship, which made him, in my eyes back then, an Untouchable.
We'd bump into each other maybe two or three more times, always brief, fleeting, and with others. I did try and interact with him on social media, but his replies were mostly to the point, polite, and merely friendly. He's not interested in me, I thought.
Fast forward to a few months ago. I found out he had moved in with his current boyfriend in an area that's very accesible to me. Not only that, he was playing househusband while in between jobs. So I reached out to him and asked if we could meet up after his morning workout. He agreed, if I didn't mind him all sweaty. I actually found the idea a turn on.
So we met up, and he invited me to their place. He said his boyfriend won't be home until evening, so we had the whole place to ourselves. We sat on their bed and started that subtle dance of figuring out what the other wanted. We talked TV shows, the place where they were staying, common friends, movies, how Twitter has turned into Pornhub... and I showed him some samples from my phone. Naturally he leaned over to look, his arm brushing mine, his face so close I could smell his sweet sweat. He was breathing heavily, I guess partly because he had worked out, and partly because of the video we were watching. I looked at him and said, "I'm sorry," and without skipping a beat, kissed him full on the lips. Instead of pulling back in surprise, he matched my mouth movements, pushing his tongue into my mouth.
In a few moments we were lying naked in the sheets, exploring every inch of the other's body. He moaned when I tongued his nipple, then licked upwards towards his armpit, full of juicy, sweaty hair. He wrapped his legs around my waist and raised his bottom. But because I didn't bring any condoms or lube, I decided to just rub my cock across his open, willing asshole. That drove him wild. We ended up rubbing each other, 69-ing, and jacking off one another.
Afterwards, I said my farewells. We said we'd keep in touch. In cases like these, I knew better than to expect we'd hook up once again. Once is enough.
True enough, I never got any private message from him again (though he'd post once in a while on his social media).
* * * * *
One afternoon last week I got a message from him. "Do you know where the closest HIV testing place is?" I told him I knew only of Love Yourself Anglo in Mandaluyong, and the Social Hygiene Clinic in the Marikina City Health Center. But since he needed to do something by 2pm, that ruled out Anglo. Since I've never been to the Marikina Social Hygiene Clinic, I said he should go there early because I had no idea if there'll be a long queue or not.
"Can you accompany me?" he asked. He explained that if he brought his partner and he turned out positive, he cannot handle it if his partner freaks out. "You're calm and steady, McVie," he said. He sounded like he was getting himself ready for the worst, which to me was a sign that he had an inkling of his status.
We agreed on a date to get himself tested.
* * * * *
Marikina City Health Center turned out to be a pleasant surprise. The pleasant, ever-smiling lady in the Social Hygiene Clinic accommpanied us to the third floor, where there was a Satellite Clinic dedicated to HIV testing and treatment. There was only one other person ahead of us. And since the clinic was situated at the end of the hall, it was very private, with not much foot traffic disturbing those going there.
The staff politely asked me to wait outside while they extracted blood from my friend. Then we both sat at the waiting area. Less than 15 minutes later, my friend was called back inside. I wasn't able to finish one level of Candy Crush when he came back and sat beside me. "I guess I was expecting as much," he said. "I'm reactive."
"Oh, I see," I said. "So what did they say are the next steps?"
He was to come back next week for the confirmatory tests. From there, they'll determine if he needs to start taking ARVs or not.
"So... when will you tell your partner?" I asked. He had assured me earlier that they had the "What would you do if I turned out positive?" talk before, and both assured one another that HIV would not automatically be a deal breaker for them. Besides, he was sure he got the virus before he and his current boyfriend met. It was only now that he had himself tested.
"Tonight, when he gets home. But after dinner."
* * * * *
He was calm the whole time. I asked him twice, "How are you?" The first time he replied, "I don't see the point of worrying. What will worrying achieve? I'd rather accept it, and deal with it." The second time I asked, he said, "I knew I was right in asking you to accompany me to the test. Anybody else I know would have freaked out. Or at least get more stressed than me. I know you've done this before. The fact that you know what to do helps keep me calm."
I drove him back to their place. We chatted as we walked up to their unit. Inside, he asked me to pardon the mess. I told him it was messier the last time. He again thanked me for accompanying him. I hugged him. Then our lips searched and found one another.
I guess he really appreciated my help.
A little later we were naked in bed, fully appreciating one another. Funny enough, this morning when I stepped out of the house, I thought it best to bring condoms and lube. I thought that no matter what the results are, especially if he tested positive, if he wants to have a second go at it, I'm game. Having sex with him will help relieve him of the stress he's feeling at the moment. Having sex with him is proof that being positive does not mean the end of having safe, satisfying sex. Having sex with him also means I'm a sex-positive person who will not discriminate against PLHIV. Dammit, I have my advocacy to uphold!
He kept arching his back and thrusting his ass towards my cock. "I brought condoms," I whispered to him.
"Do you have lube?"
"Yes," I replied.
"Yes!" he said.
* * * * *
Afterwards, panting and smiling, with our sweat and cum mixed together on his chest, he said, "Well, this has been one very eventful morning." All this happened before noon.
I said my goodbyes. He offered to walk me out to the car, but I told him I knew my way out, he can just rest in bed. I kissed him then walked out.
As I was about to drive off, he messaged me: "Thanks again."
I replied, "My pleasure. And I hope yours, too."
"Of course," he replied, with a smiley face.
He'll be alright. He and his boyfriend, they'll be fine. They'll get through this.
We'd bump into each other maybe two or three more times, always brief, fleeting, and with others. I did try and interact with him on social media, but his replies were mostly to the point, polite, and merely friendly. He's not interested in me, I thought.
Fast forward to a few months ago. I found out he had moved in with his current boyfriend in an area that's very accesible to me. Not only that, he was playing househusband while in between jobs. So I reached out to him and asked if we could meet up after his morning workout. He agreed, if I didn't mind him all sweaty. I actually found the idea a turn on.
So we met up, and he invited me to their place. He said his boyfriend won't be home until evening, so we had the whole place to ourselves. We sat on their bed and started that subtle dance of figuring out what the other wanted. We talked TV shows, the place where they were staying, common friends, movies, how Twitter has turned into Pornhub... and I showed him some samples from my phone. Naturally he leaned over to look, his arm brushing mine, his face so close I could smell his sweet sweat. He was breathing heavily, I guess partly because he had worked out, and partly because of the video we were watching. I looked at him and said, "I'm sorry," and without skipping a beat, kissed him full on the lips. Instead of pulling back in surprise, he matched my mouth movements, pushing his tongue into my mouth.
In a few moments we were lying naked in the sheets, exploring every inch of the other's body. He moaned when I tongued his nipple, then licked upwards towards his armpit, full of juicy, sweaty hair. He wrapped his legs around my waist and raised his bottom. But because I didn't bring any condoms or lube, I decided to just rub my cock across his open, willing asshole. That drove him wild. We ended up rubbing each other, 69-ing, and jacking off one another.
Afterwards, I said my farewells. We said we'd keep in touch. In cases like these, I knew better than to expect we'd hook up once again. Once is enough.
True enough, I never got any private message from him again (though he'd post once in a while on his social media).
* * * * *
One afternoon last week I got a message from him. "Do you know where the closest HIV testing place is?" I told him I knew only of Love Yourself Anglo in Mandaluyong, and the Social Hygiene Clinic in the Marikina City Health Center. But since he needed to do something by 2pm, that ruled out Anglo. Since I've never been to the Marikina Social Hygiene Clinic, I said he should go there early because I had no idea if there'll be a long queue or not.
"Can you accompany me?" he asked. He explained that if he brought his partner and he turned out positive, he cannot handle it if his partner freaks out. "You're calm and steady, McVie," he said. He sounded like he was getting himself ready for the worst, which to me was a sign that he had an inkling of his status.
We agreed on a date to get himself tested.
* * * * *
Marikina City Health Center turned out to be a pleasant surprise. The pleasant, ever-smiling lady in the Social Hygiene Clinic accommpanied us to the third floor, where there was a Satellite Clinic dedicated to HIV testing and treatment. There was only one other person ahead of us. And since the clinic was situated at the end of the hall, it was very private, with not much foot traffic disturbing those going there.
The staff politely asked me to wait outside while they extracted blood from my friend. Then we both sat at the waiting area. Less than 15 minutes later, my friend was called back inside. I wasn't able to finish one level of Candy Crush when he came back and sat beside me. "I guess I was expecting as much," he said. "I'm reactive."
"Oh, I see," I said. "So what did they say are the next steps?"
He was to come back next week for the confirmatory tests. From there, they'll determine if he needs to start taking ARVs or not.
"So... when will you tell your partner?" I asked. He had assured me earlier that they had the "What would you do if I turned out positive?" talk before, and both assured one another that HIV would not automatically be a deal breaker for them. Besides, he was sure he got the virus before he and his current boyfriend met. It was only now that he had himself tested.
"Tonight, when he gets home. But after dinner."
* * * * *
He was calm the whole time. I asked him twice, "How are you?" The first time he replied, "I don't see the point of worrying. What will worrying achieve? I'd rather accept it, and deal with it." The second time I asked, he said, "I knew I was right in asking you to accompany me to the test. Anybody else I know would have freaked out. Or at least get more stressed than me. I know you've done this before. The fact that you know what to do helps keep me calm."
I drove him back to their place. We chatted as we walked up to their unit. Inside, he asked me to pardon the mess. I told him it was messier the last time. He again thanked me for accompanying him. I hugged him. Then our lips searched and found one another.
I guess he really appreciated my help.
A little later we were naked in bed, fully appreciating one another. Funny enough, this morning when I stepped out of the house, I thought it best to bring condoms and lube. I thought that no matter what the results are, especially if he tested positive, if he wants to have a second go at it, I'm game. Having sex with him will help relieve him of the stress he's feeling at the moment. Having sex with him is proof that being positive does not mean the end of having safe, satisfying sex. Having sex with him also means I'm a sex-positive person who will not discriminate against PLHIV. Dammit, I have my advocacy to uphold!
He kept arching his back and thrusting his ass towards my cock. "I brought condoms," I whispered to him.
"Do you have lube?"
"Yes," I replied.
"Yes!" he said.
* * * * *
Afterwards, panting and smiling, with our sweat and cum mixed together on his chest, he said, "Well, this has been one very eventful morning." All this happened before noon.
I said my goodbyes. He offered to walk me out to the car, but I told him I knew my way out, he can just rest in bed. I kissed him then walked out.
As I was about to drive off, he messaged me: "Thanks again."
I replied, "My pleasure. And I hope yours, too."
"Of course," he replied, with a smiley face.
He'll be alright. He and his boyfriend, they'll be fine. They'll get through this.
Monday, January 22, 2018
Week One: My Classmates Are Spokening Dollars
We were 25 in our batch, composed mostly of girls. As far as I can tell, I was the only gay guy in our batch; we had an openly gay lesbian whom the guards always thought was a guy and kept stopping her from entering the ladies bathroom. There were young moms, fresh graduates, and a couple of transferees from other call centers. Only one other batchmate was older than me; he was 53, and was previously assigned to a different account. Everyone else was younger than me. Interestingly, most of use were working for the first time at a call center.
I was kinda disappointed that out of the 9 guys besides me in class, I only found one who was kinda cute, in a little boy way. He was quite young, short in stature, and with a high pitched voice that American callers would later on mistake for a woman. On our first day, he kept looking my way. I wondered if he was checking me out, or he was just curious as to why someone my age would be in a call center. As the lessons progressed and we bonded as a group, the girls decided to make Ruzzel (yes, he spells his name with two Z's) our class bunso.
Meanwhile the girls started calling me "Daddy Joel", which I didn't mind. The boys called me "po" at first, but I quickly dissuaded them from that. After a while of being called daddy, I decided in one class recitation to mention matter-of-factly that I was gay. Afterwards while most of the girls still called me daddy, the cheekier ones called me "mamshie".
Our first week of training was spent reviewing our English lessons. Our instructor kept emphasizing that it was a review; we were hired because we had a better command of the English language than most. But hearing some of my batchmates speak in English, I wondered how low that bar was. Or maybe the bar wasn't low; I was just operating at a higher plane.
Now, before you shoot me for being all-haughty and prideful, let me explain. My first week at training showed me how much of an advantage my Arneow training gave me in terms of speaking in English. I didn't even bother to review my tenses; I never even got tense at all in any of the tests. I coasted on stock knowledge and ended up at the top of the class by the end of the week. Top 2 got a 92%. I got 98% without breaking a sweat.
And I have the Jesuits to thank for that. You see, the moment I stepped into Prep, I was surrounded by priests, teachers, and classmates speaking in English. The masses and homilies were in impeccable English. They were talking about TV shows and movies that were in English, so I started watching those shows and movies (it helped that my mom also favored the American TV series; the only local shows she'd watch were Tang Tarangtang and John En Marsha). My classmates read Hardy Boys, so I started reading them too. I learned American idioms because I heard them used and figured out their meaning through context. Our grade 5 teacher even taught us the word "preposterous". At grade 5!
So yes, I was feeling high on my first week. But I knew things would change on the second and third week, when we start studying the product. I may have an advantage over these millennials with the English language, but they're more computer-literate and computer-savvy than me. And their youthful minds can still be stuffed with a lot of new knowledge. I fear my mental processor may not have enough space for a gigaton of new data.
Let's see.
I was kinda disappointed that out of the 9 guys besides me in class, I only found one who was kinda cute, in a little boy way. He was quite young, short in stature, and with a high pitched voice that American callers would later on mistake for a woman. On our first day, he kept looking my way. I wondered if he was checking me out, or he was just curious as to why someone my age would be in a call center. As the lessons progressed and we bonded as a group, the girls decided to make Ruzzel (yes, he spells his name with two Z's) our class bunso.
Meanwhile the girls started calling me "Daddy Joel", which I didn't mind. The boys called me "po" at first, but I quickly dissuaded them from that. After a while of being called daddy, I decided in one class recitation to mention matter-of-factly that I was gay. Afterwards while most of the girls still called me daddy, the cheekier ones called me "mamshie".
Our first week of training was spent reviewing our English lessons. Our instructor kept emphasizing that it was a review; we were hired because we had a better command of the English language than most. But hearing some of my batchmates speak in English, I wondered how low that bar was. Or maybe the bar wasn't low; I was just operating at a higher plane.
Now, before you shoot me for being all-haughty and prideful, let me explain. My first week at training showed me how much of an advantage my Arneow training gave me in terms of speaking in English. I didn't even bother to review my tenses; I never even got tense at all in any of the tests. I coasted on stock knowledge and ended up at the top of the class by the end of the week. Top 2 got a 92%. I got 98% without breaking a sweat.
And I have the Jesuits to thank for that. You see, the moment I stepped into Prep, I was surrounded by priests, teachers, and classmates speaking in English. The masses and homilies were in impeccable English. They were talking about TV shows and movies that were in English, so I started watching those shows and movies (it helped that my mom also favored the American TV series; the only local shows she'd watch were Tang Tarangtang and John En Marsha). My classmates read Hardy Boys, so I started reading them too. I learned American idioms because I heard them used and figured out their meaning through context. Our grade 5 teacher even taught us the word "preposterous". At grade 5!
So yes, I was feeling high on my first week. But I knew things would change on the second and third week, when we start studying the product. I may have an advantage over these millennials with the English language, but they're more computer-literate and computer-savvy than me. And their youthful minds can still be stuffed with a lot of new knowledge. I fear my mental processor may not have enough space for a gigaton of new data.
Let's see.
Tuesday, January 16, 2018
Big Fish, Small Pond: Do What You Have To Do
So the second call center I went to is located inside a mall.
When I got to their recruitment area, I was asked to log in my application online, which, to me, was impressive. At least this office looks like they want to reduce their carbon footprint.
There weren't as many applicants here, perhaps due to the location. For the first interview, I was with 4 other applicants only. I breezed through it. Then we were brought into a room where we took several tests online. Then another interview over the phone with someone (I forget who), then I was asked to wait in the lobby.
A few minutes later, the HR woman who was taking us through the application process called me and two others back into her office. She told us we passed and that we were going to be given offer sheets. We signed the sheets, she took our photos (for our ID badges), gave us the number and address of the clinic for our physicals, and welcomed us into the company.
It was that easy. I entered the lobby at around 1:30 in the afternoon; before 7pm that night, I was already being offered a job. I thought, is it going to be this easy all throughout? That can't be, it's too good to be true. I was waiting for the other shoe to drop.
And it did, in the form of our salary. We were offered less than what the Cubao center offered (they explained that the account was a seasonal one). At that salary rate, I could barely pay for my monthly car loan. I may need to do some sideline stuff (like freelance writing jobs) to augment my earnings as an agent.
I was mulling over things while driving home. Should I continue with this company, or apply to the Cubao center where Resourceful Douchebag TL invited me to join?
When I got home, I was browsing over the posts in my LinkedIn app, when I came across this post (apologies for not being able to attribute the writer; I can't find the post anymore):
* * * * *
“I just can’t get a job.” they say. I hear it all the time.
(I ordered a Dominos last night. They're hiring by the way.)
When my first business imploded...
I scaled back massively.
I took a job selling broadband.
I took a job delivering Indian takeaways.
I did whatever I had to, despite the massive ego drop.
Despite losing my S-Class and my flat.
Despite hearing “told you so” at every turn.
I had bills and obligations, so I got to work.
I kept my head down for a year, tidied my mess, and regrouped.
And then I got back on it. Harsh lessons learned.
When the shit hits the fan; you flip burgers, you clean floors, you stack shelves - you do what you must.
Agree or disagree?
* * * * *
Oh well. When life gives you lemons, make lemonade. See you on the first day of training.
When I got to their recruitment area, I was asked to log in my application online, which, to me, was impressive. At least this office looks like they want to reduce their carbon footprint.
There weren't as many applicants here, perhaps due to the location. For the first interview, I was with 4 other applicants only. I breezed through it. Then we were brought into a room where we took several tests online. Then another interview over the phone with someone (I forget who), then I was asked to wait in the lobby.
A few minutes later, the HR woman who was taking us through the application process called me and two others back into her office. She told us we passed and that we were going to be given offer sheets. We signed the sheets, she took our photos (for our ID badges), gave us the number and address of the clinic for our physicals, and welcomed us into the company.
It was that easy. I entered the lobby at around 1:30 in the afternoon; before 7pm that night, I was already being offered a job. I thought, is it going to be this easy all throughout? That can't be, it's too good to be true. I was waiting for the other shoe to drop.
And it did, in the form of our salary. We were offered less than what the Cubao center offered (they explained that the account was a seasonal one). At that salary rate, I could barely pay for my monthly car loan. I may need to do some sideline stuff (like freelance writing jobs) to augment my earnings as an agent.
I was mulling over things while driving home. Should I continue with this company, or apply to the Cubao center where Resourceful Douchebag TL invited me to join?
When I got home, I was browsing over the posts in my LinkedIn app, when I came across this post (apologies for not being able to attribute the writer; I can't find the post anymore):
* * * * *
“I just can’t get a job.” they say. I hear it all the time.
(I ordered a Dominos last night. They're hiring by the way.)
When my first business imploded...
I scaled back massively.
I took a job selling broadband.
I took a job delivering Indian takeaways.
I did whatever I had to, despite the massive ego drop.
Despite losing my S-Class and my flat.
Despite hearing “told you so” at every turn.
I had bills and obligations, so I got to work.
I kept my head down for a year, tidied my mess, and regrouped.
And then I got back on it. Harsh lessons learned.
When the shit hits the fan; you flip burgers, you clean floors, you stack shelves - you do what you must.
Agree or disagree?
* * * * *
Oh well. When life gives you lemons, make lemonade. See you on the first day of training.
Sunday, January 14, 2018
Step One: Recruitment
I knew that as an entry-level agent, I'll be earning a fraction of what I was getting in my previous job. Which was not a problem for me; I just needed some money coming in so that I have something for the car and insurance payments. Food? At home I eat for free. And I have no problem scaling back my dietary consumption. (Strangely, I also noticed that I easily get full these days. Was that just a product of aging? Or was that my consciousness convincing myself to save on food costs?) Transpo? I needed a job in a place near home--less traffic, less gas consumption; just worry about overnight parking fees.
The first call center I went to was located approximately 7-10 minutes away from the house. But when I inquired there, they told me recruitment was at their main office in Cubao. So off I went.
When I stepped into the lobby, there were many young kids filling out application forms and waiting for their turn. I also saw one or two "older" guys; we were the ones quietly waiting by our lonesome; everyone else had friends or batchmates with them. It's like they needed the comfort of the herd to navigate this jungle called recruitment. Meanwhile, us oldies were lone hunters, quietly eyeing our competition. Well, most of us anyway. I saw one guy, probably older than me, looked like he was in over his head. Later on, just before the group interview started, he excused himself to go to the bathroom; he never returned.
After a few minutes of waiting, they called around 18 of us, and we were herded into a conference room. The chairs were flushed against the wall; in the middle was a huge conference table with a desktop on it. We were asked to occupy the seats and wait for the interviewer to arrive.
While waiting, the young'uns started chatting among themselves. "Pang-ilang center mo na ito?" "Saan ka ba nag-apply before?" "Naku, hindi ako pumasa doon eh!" "Kinakabahan ako." There were two other oldies aside from me; one left for the bathroom and escaped before the interview, and one was a 40+ year old guy who had a confident air about him. The way he was assuring the first-timers and giving them tips, I assumed he had worked in several BPOs before.
The two interviewers, a guy and a lesbian, came in. I thought both were fresh graduates--they looked so young! It didn't help that the taller of the two, the guy, looked like he can see eye-to-eye with Nora Aunor (whose height, so goes the joke, is 4'12"). The lesbian (yes she is, trust me, I'm not being judgemental!) was even shorter. I thought I was going to be interviewed by hobbits. (To be fair, the guy was too much of a twink to be a hobbit; he was also quite cute, and when I say cute, I mean "let's play with him like a toy" cute.)
Then they started talking to us. You know, before I applied to call centers, I used to hate Filipinos who'd put on this American twang or accent. Such a put on, such pretentiousness! But the more I saw the inner workings of a BPO, the more I realized that they were just doing their jobs. They're talking to Americans, and Americans have a hard time understanding someone speaking in English if they didn't have that familiar twaye-ng or aye-k-scent. (Eventually when I was on the floor, I noticed myself putting on a bit of that accent, depending on the caller.)
It made sense why the initial interview had to be a big group; with the number of applicants, Recruitment needed a quick way to trim off the ones who will have a hard time speaking and expressing themselves in English.
Oompa-Loompa Cutie wlecomed us, and introduced his fellow HR staffer, Oompa-Loompa Tibs, who busied herself at the computer typing God-knows-what during the whole process. We were asked to introduce ourselves, and say why we wanted to join that particular BPO. Then we were asked to pick a number corresponding to a question which we needed to answer, ala-Beaucon Q&A portion. I fought the urge to place my hands on my hips while answering.
When it came to me, I used my mother as the reason why I wanted to go into the BPO industry. "She's pushing 80 (a lie), so I went back to take care of her (another lie, but that one elicited a couple of "Awwws"), and now I needed a job near the house so I can be near her." My beaucon question was easy: "What do you do for recreation?" I mentioned watching theater (yeah right, show them how elitist I am!) and movies, and in the process gave a 5-minute review that compared and contrasted Justice League with Thor: Ragnarok ("JL isn't that bad, but DC's still finding its way; meanwhile, Marvel's got the superhero genere down pat, and now they're pushing its boundaries").
Needless to say, pasok ako sa finals.
Interestingly, while waiting for the rest to finish their turn, the 40+ year old guy who sat beside me (I should have picked up on that immediately) started whispering to me.
Him: "First time mo bang mag-call center?"
Me: "Uh-huh."
Him: "Alam mo ba kung magkano ino-offer nila dito?"
Me: "Uhm, 16 yata? Yun yung narinig ko."
Him: "Magaling ka eh. Apply ka sa kabila, doon puwede kang kumita ng 20 agad."
Wait a minute. What did he say?
Me: "Sa kabila?"
Him: "Pagkatapos dito, sama ka sa akin. Di ko tatapusin itong recruitment dito. Mas malaking sahod sa kabila, doon ka na."
It turned out the guy is already a Team Leader (fondly called TL) in another BPO down the street. His account was currently in a low-traffic period, so most of the members of his team were on Voluntary Time Off (they can be absent, but they don't earn anything). Apparently he was using his idle time to check out if there are greener pastures for him to move to, and at the same time, see if he can pirate applicants to go to his company. What a douchebag, but what a resourceful douchebag.
When I mentioned during my Q&A that I wanted to be posted in their Marikina office, Oompa-Loompa Tibs butted in, "Sorry, our Marikina office does not have an opening right now, are you okay with working in Cubao or in our Alabang office instead?" Of course I immediately replied, "Oh sure Cubao is fine," but what I really wanted to say was, "Naiintindihan ko pa yung Marikina to Cubao, pero Marikina to Alabang araw-araw?! Ano ka, kundoktora sa isang Alabang-Novaliches bus?!"
I knew I had to apply to another BPO.
Fortunately, one of the millennial bagets approached me and said, "Naghahanap ka sa may Marikina? May alam ako, sa Antipolo lang nga, pero malapit pa rin sa Marikina. May openings doon."
Ayun. (sings) "Tayo naaaa... sa Antipolo!"
The first call center I went to was located approximately 7-10 minutes away from the house. But when I inquired there, they told me recruitment was at their main office in Cubao. So off I went.
When I stepped into the lobby, there were many young kids filling out application forms and waiting for their turn. I also saw one or two "older" guys; we were the ones quietly waiting by our lonesome; everyone else had friends or batchmates with them. It's like they needed the comfort of the herd to navigate this jungle called recruitment. Meanwhile, us oldies were lone hunters, quietly eyeing our competition. Well, most of us anyway. I saw one guy, probably older than me, looked like he was in over his head. Later on, just before the group interview started, he excused himself to go to the bathroom; he never returned.
After a few minutes of waiting, they called around 18 of us, and we were herded into a conference room. The chairs were flushed against the wall; in the middle was a huge conference table with a desktop on it. We were asked to occupy the seats and wait for the interviewer to arrive.
While waiting, the young'uns started chatting among themselves. "Pang-ilang center mo na ito?" "Saan ka ba nag-apply before?" "Naku, hindi ako pumasa doon eh!" "Kinakabahan ako." There were two other oldies aside from me; one left for the bathroom and escaped before the interview, and one was a 40+ year old guy who had a confident air about him. The way he was assuring the first-timers and giving them tips, I assumed he had worked in several BPOs before.
The two interviewers, a guy and a lesbian, came in. I thought both were fresh graduates--they looked so young! It didn't help that the taller of the two, the guy, looked like he can see eye-to-eye with Nora Aunor (whose height, so goes the joke, is 4'12"). The lesbian (yes she is, trust me, I'm not being judgemental!) was even shorter. I thought I was going to be interviewed by hobbits. (To be fair, the guy was too much of a twink to be a hobbit; he was also quite cute, and when I say cute, I mean "let's play with him like a toy" cute.)
Then they started talking to us. You know, before I applied to call centers, I used to hate Filipinos who'd put on this American twang or accent. Such a put on, such pretentiousness! But the more I saw the inner workings of a BPO, the more I realized that they were just doing their jobs. They're talking to Americans, and Americans have a hard time understanding someone speaking in English if they didn't have that familiar twaye-ng or aye-k-scent. (Eventually when I was on the floor, I noticed myself putting on a bit of that accent, depending on the caller.)
It made sense why the initial interview had to be a big group; with the number of applicants, Recruitment needed a quick way to trim off the ones who will have a hard time speaking and expressing themselves in English.
Oompa-Loompa Cutie wlecomed us, and introduced his fellow HR staffer, Oompa-Loompa Tibs, who busied herself at the computer typing God-knows-what during the whole process. We were asked to introduce ourselves, and say why we wanted to join that particular BPO. Then we were asked to pick a number corresponding to a question which we needed to answer, ala-Beaucon Q&A portion. I fought the urge to place my hands on my hips while answering.
When it came to me, I used my mother as the reason why I wanted to go into the BPO industry. "She's pushing 80 (a lie), so I went back to take care of her (another lie, but that one elicited a couple of "Awwws"), and now I needed a job near the house so I can be near her." My beaucon question was easy: "What do you do for recreation?" I mentioned watching theater (yeah right, show them how elitist I am!) and movies, and in the process gave a 5-minute review that compared and contrasted Justice League with Thor: Ragnarok ("JL isn't that bad, but DC's still finding its way; meanwhile, Marvel's got the superhero genere down pat, and now they're pushing its boundaries").
Needless to say, pasok ako sa finals.
Interestingly, while waiting for the rest to finish their turn, the 40+ year old guy who sat beside me (I should have picked up on that immediately) started whispering to me.
Him: "First time mo bang mag-call center?"
Me: "Uh-huh."
Him: "Alam mo ba kung magkano ino-offer nila dito?"
Me: "Uhm, 16 yata? Yun yung narinig ko."
Him: "Magaling ka eh. Apply ka sa kabila, doon puwede kang kumita ng 20 agad."
Wait a minute. What did he say?
Me: "Sa kabila?"
Him: "Pagkatapos dito, sama ka sa akin. Di ko tatapusin itong recruitment dito. Mas malaking sahod sa kabila, doon ka na."
It turned out the guy is already a Team Leader (fondly called TL) in another BPO down the street. His account was currently in a low-traffic period, so most of the members of his team were on Voluntary Time Off (they can be absent, but they don't earn anything). Apparently he was using his idle time to check out if there are greener pastures for him to move to, and at the same time, see if he can pirate applicants to go to his company. What a douchebag, but what a resourceful douchebag.
When I mentioned during my Q&A that I wanted to be posted in their Marikina office, Oompa-Loompa Tibs butted in, "Sorry, our Marikina office does not have an opening right now, are you okay with working in Cubao or in our Alabang office instead?" Of course I immediately replied, "Oh sure Cubao is fine," but what I really wanted to say was, "Naiintindihan ko pa yung Marikina to Cubao, pero Marikina to Alabang araw-araw?! Ano ka, kundoktora sa isang Alabang-Novaliches bus?!"
I knew I had to apply to another BPO.
Fortunately, one of the millennial bagets approached me and said, "Naghahanap ka sa may Marikina? May alam ako, sa Antipolo lang nga, pero malapit pa rin sa Marikina. May openings doon."
Ayun. (sings) "Tayo naaaa... sa Antipolo!"
Saturday, January 13, 2018
In The Beginning: Biting The Bullet
Around the third quarter of 2016, I handed my resignation letter to HR. I was leaving the network I called home for nearly 7 years.
If you're planning on moving to another company, apply during the early part of the year. Most people will tell you December is the worst month to look for a job, because instead of hiring, HR is busy with office Christmas parties. I should know. I've gone through 3 Christmases wherein my gift was, "Next time na lang, ha?" to all my loved ones.
Luckily, by March 2017 I got a job at a small agency for events and advertising. I thought going back to advertising would be fun. Instead, six months later, I was again handing in a resignation letter. But this time, even before went to HR, I was already applying left anf right, here and abroad.
Sadly, I found out that people of my age and level of experience will have a harder time moving companies. There's less vacancies, naturally.
So when December 2017 came around, I had to bite the bullet. I had bills to pay. I needed a job that was in or near Marikina (since I moved back home). And I needed one fast.
Only one industry I knew fit the bill.
And that's how I came to be a call daddy.
If you're planning on moving to another company, apply during the early part of the year. Most people will tell you December is the worst month to look for a job, because instead of hiring, HR is busy with office Christmas parties. I should know. I've gone through 3 Christmases wherein my gift was, "Next time na lang, ha?" to all my loved ones.
Luckily, by March 2017 I got a job at a small agency for events and advertising. I thought going back to advertising would be fun. Instead, six months later, I was again handing in a resignation letter. But this time, even before went to HR, I was already applying left anf right, here and abroad.
Sadly, I found out that people of my age and level of experience will have a harder time moving companies. There's less vacancies, naturally.
So when December 2017 came around, I had to bite the bullet. I had bills to pay. I needed a job that was in or near Marikina (since I moved back home). And I needed one fast.
Only one industry I knew fit the bill.
And that's how I came to be a call daddy.
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