His first job had him in the dumps
Commentator Robert Reich proves that a first job isn't always a step in the right direction. His gig at an ad agency in New York went to the dogs.
Robert Reich (Robert Reich)
More on Jobs, Commentaries, Commentary - Robert Reich, Robert Reich
TEXT OF COMMENTARY
TESS VIGELAND: All these kids with delusions of becoming the next Warren Buffett? They may not realize it, but most of them in for a rude awakening. Before they score a corner office with floor-to-ceiling glass windows, they might have to brave a windowless room -- like, maybe the basement.
Just ask commentator Robert Reich. He tells us that his first work experience went to the dogs.
ROBERT REICH: My first job was as an ad-man. That's something of an exaggeration. It was a job in an advertising agency that today we'd call an "internship" -- a kind of foot-in-the-door that might someday lead to a real job.
In truth, it wasn't even a foot in the door. More like a big toe. I was a "go-fer" -- someone who's told to "go-fer" coffee, "go-fer" sandwiches, "go-fer" this or that package. I go-ferred for weeks, running around New York City on errands.
But even though being a go-fer wasn't glamourous, I was fired with enthusiasm. I basked in the glow of the firm's worldly-wise creativity, its brand-name clients, and the important meetings I'd supply with coffee, sandwiches and packages.
After a time I got fewer go-fer assignments. I assumed this meant I was now primed for the big leagues, ready to join a full-fledged ad campaign. But the real reason was I didn't know New York well enough and got lost when I went for a package more than a few blocks away. I was so late with one of them I didn't deliver it in time for an important meeting. So they stopped asking me to go-fer.
At this point the head of the firm gave me a different assignment, but it wasn't an ad campaign. It was to take care of his dog, which he brought into the office every day. A big Irish Wolfhound named Prince, who had a bowel problem. My job was, well, you can imagine. I told myself this was a kind of promotion. After all, I was now working for the boss.
But I was actually working for Prince. And one day I was scraping Prince's bowel problem off the small terrace outside the boss's office -- for the third time that day -- in the 95-degree heat and humidity of a New York August, and I finally realized something I should have known all along. This job wasn't going anywhere. So, I summoned the nerve to tell the boss I wouldn't take care of Prince anymore, and he summoned the indignation to tell me I had a nerve, and that was that.
I ended my first job just as I had started it -- fired ... with enthusiasm.
VIGELAND: Robert Reich teaches public policy at the University of California, Berkeley. Anybody else wondering what that boss is doing now? Safe bet he isn't a former cabinet secretary.
Comments
Comment | Refresh
Post a Comment: Please be civil, brief and relevant.
Email addresses are never displayed, but they are required to confirm your comments. All comments are moderated. Marketplace reserves the right to edit any comments on this site and to read them on the air if they are extra-interesting. Please read the Comment Guidelines before posting.
You must be 13 or over to submit information to American Public Media. The information entered into this form will not be used to send unsolicited email and will not be sold to a third party. For more information see Terms and Conditions and Privacy Policy.