Just When I Thought It Was All OK

Yesterday marked one week until my departure and how fitting that the resort called to screw up my whole "I'm finally ok with this whole moving thing."

Human Resources: "We just want to get on the same page as you, can you answer a few questions?"

Me: "Of course!" Thinking they'd ask if I prefer a suite overlooking the ocean or the bay.

HR: "You know you'll mostly be a 'moment maker' here at the resort: making sure the guests are happy, asking if you can refill drinks, organizing games, that stuff, right?"

Me: long pause "No, I was under the assumption that that would be 1/3 of my duties." 

My insecurities about being shy started to bubble up. My stutter became quite apparent. Flashbacks of sorority recruitment returned when I was given the position of floater: the girl would who rescue a sister when a potential new sister couldn't stop talking about her one summer at band camp and I would swoop in to rescue the sister, because I can talk to a wall. Even though I can ask anyone questions about themselves until we both feel like I know you on a seriously personal level, I hate to do it to people I don't know or care about.  

Me: "Ideally, I'd like to work in Marketing," I finally mustered.

HR: "hhmm, well, we can discuss that once you get here, see how it all fits. And what about housing, what were you told?"

Me: and there goes my dreams of living on the resort, "I was told it would be provided for the entire 6 months I was there. Including three meals a day."

HR: "Housing is usually temporary."

long pause. Have you seen the rates for rentals in St. Thomas? Get ready for this: 1 bedroom... $1,195 a month. I didn't put extra numbers on there, check my references. It's Craig's List, it's always Craig's List. 

 

Me: "But that was the main reason I decided to accept the job. There's no way I can afford to live on this salary and manage to live there."

HR: "Hhmm, well you're only here for 6 months, so we can discuss it once you're here."

Me: "Ookkkk. What about scheduling, shifts? Who would be my boss?"

HR: "We're looking for a Director of Entertainment right now. They'd set the schedule, shifts, get acts together, that sort."

Jackpot. I was still trying to digest the housing situation but after we awkwardly ended the phone call, I realized I should gun it for this Director of Entertainment gig. HR got a lovely email from me shortly after.

Me: "Right. Ok then, see you on Tuesday!"

As chipper as I might have sounded on the phone, the conversation provided me with slight introductions into a full-blown panic attack. What if I get to the resort, I'm asked to walk around and make sure guests are having a good time, while secretly making fun of their Tevas and sunburns, hating myself for doing so, getting paid minimum wage and living in a place I can't afford?

Then I'll have a good story.