seven
16/10/2007
On 16 October 2000, I started work on my dream job at my dream company. I considered myself a lucky ducky, and I begrudgingly accede that I have an ex- to thank for pushing me to apply (repeatedly, continuously, and rather shamelessly) for the job to begin with. But karma has been good to him, we broke up about five months later and he got married, umm, I guess a year or so later and is now a father of two. I’d congratulate him, but thankfully he doesn’t read this blog.
My last interview for the job took place on my birthday. I was antsy all day.
My first day was pretty exciting; I showed up at 10am – my new boss said he doesn’t get in earlier so it wouldn’t make a difference – and tried to fly in under the radar. Everyone was friendly and accommodating, and I didn’t break, kill, or frighten anyone yet. I sat next to the door.
My boss turned up in a white linen shirt (I can’t remember if it’s the one with the big red flowers) and man-pris. And sandals.
My mothership was in his usual black. He was left to babysit me throughout his time there.
The engineers, only the two dudes then – dudette was OOTO, probably meeting my significant-other-to-be – were as different as night and day. They still are.
My first piece of equipment was a Sony Vaio PCG 505CR sub-notebook. I loved it. It served me well, although it was not my MP3 player. I still curse the IT fella who fried it when I think about it and the lengths I took to look after it. I still have the harddisk, bad sectors and all.
Sharkie came and said hello. I forgot we went to JC together until she mentioned it. But she did look highly familiar. She looked different in JC, to be fair.
I tried to stay out of the way of the GM. She was scary. She’s probably lonely.
I don’t think I saw any Singapore Inland Revenue Tax fugitives that day, although I think I did see it last week in San Francisco, on a street corner near the Stockton tunnel. I yelled “pay your taxes back in Singapore” over evening peak hour traffic to deaf ears.
I asked what the dress code was – and was told that as long as I wore something, it would be ok. Just to be safe, on day one I wore a jumper (sans cardigan), dress pants and loafers. I’ve not worn that combination to any job since then.
Throughout my time there, I never interviewed for another job.
There were around 35 employees at that time. I think I was the last person hired that year.
I guess I didn’t figure that seven years on, I’d be in a different continent, doing something completely different. But at least I’ve regained some of that loving start-up feeling.
