As I’ve mentioned, this summer I have been putting my college degree to good use by temping as a receptionist. Things can get pretty boring when the phones aren’t ringing and no one’s on gchat, so I have had to find more creative ways to keep myself occupied (mostly just by lowering my standards of things I find entertaining). My favorite activity is imagining that my office is actually as fun as Dunder Mifflin’s Scranton branch, complete with all of the characters. As a receptionist-temp, I’m a Pam-Ryan hybrid, minus Pam’s Jim (bummer, I know), and Ryan’s douchebagginess. This week my boss is kind of a Toby, a friendly low-talker. I really wish we had a Creed around here to keep things interesting.
Along with mastering Pam’s friendly, perky phone voice, I’ve learned a lot from my work as a receptionist. For starters, that I’m never supposed to actually call myself a receptionist. I am the all-important “Office Manager.” Maybe I’ll get business cards. I also finally learned how to work a fax machine, which is huge, and my rate of accidentally hanging up on people when using the fancy office phones has dramatically decreased. (Speaking of office technology, did you know that there’s a machine that folds letters in thirds for you? How great is that?!) I’ve learned how to say goodbye in secretary language: “Mmm buh-bye.” And that people have some really great names: I’ve spoken to a man with the last name of McCool, a dentist named Dr. Wyte (I have money on the fact that he made that up), a technician named James Bond, a fellow receptionist named Echo, and my friend got an email from my favorite so far, a Dr. Booger. Isn’t it fun being so immature?
One more thing:
[Posted by Mallory]