So… I have many problems, but my main two seems to that I have a conscience and a soul…. Not a good mix for call centre or bank work.
After going through a VERY stressful recruitment process and being offered a job, TWO months ago, RBS decided that they wanted to call me in, for a ‘validation interview’ and to nit pick at the forms I’d submitted and quiz me about gaps in my employment over the last two years.
The trains there are hit and miss and you’re either too early or two late. Sadly I’m one of these people who think it’s rude to be late. Having half an hour to kill, I noted that there were no benches to sit on. So, fifteen minutes before the appointment I then sat in the foyer. You can usually get a good measure of the people who worked there. Clearly not happy bunnies a few stressed smokers and pay not great as plenty of ‘primarni’ to be seen on the fashion front.
Eventually two women, neither of which was ‘Julie’ gave me a very limp hand shake. These two managers were in charge of the team. One was ‘normal’ the other was so artificial looking it was scarey-some woman clinging on to her thirties (not very well, I may add) and not rocking the barbie look.
It wasn’t an interview they said – but they asked interview questions….
1) tell me about yourself…..still unemployed,trying to keep myself sane whilst I was paying for food and a credit card whilst hung out to dry by them for the last two months…
2) why did I want to work for Royal Bank of Scotland – without missing a beat I told them it was just a job. That didn’t please blondie. Well their reputation is mud, they’ve been bailed out by the government and thus contributed to the recession and lack of jobs. They owed me a job, as a former taxpayer.
3) As to where I saw myself within the company- I couldn’t answer that, as I hadn’t a clue what the job I was applying for was -other than it was ‘an admin role’. They hadn’t explained that in their recruitment bumpf other than crowing about what a nice bank they were going to be and they needed staff. How arrogant.
They mentioned the job would be using the phone… I didn’t sign up for call centre work. Panic. I can’t process information via a headphone, I’m visual, I’m kinetic, I am not an auditory person – I put the subtitles on the TV. Using a language lab at school left me with a lasting phobia and a sense of a panic attack coming in the post…
Blondie leapt on this like a cat on mouse – was there something I wasn’t telling them???? oh apart from stress manifesting in ear infections -as it happened in my last job- clearly if I was hard of hearing they weren’t going to be positive about disability, given the hostility I was facing. I kept stum about my rheumatism, in case they thought I couldn’t type as well… They wanted robots,not people.
They asked if I’d been told about TRAVEL.
THe only travel had been mentioned in the context of how I was getting to work – ie northern rail or bus (same difference comfort wise)……Then they dropped the bombshell – I’d have to spend SEVEN weeks in London….and a further four weeks in Bolton/manchester/Kent or Scotland… the tears welled as the job disappeared in a puff of smoke. At no point was that mentioned in the job description or at the interview…a tear ran down my face as I thought of my house, my dog and the inability to pay my next credit card bill.
What was wrong blondie demanded..I stammered out, tears streaming – I hated being unemployed. I was on my own, I had a cat/dog and couldn’t go to London. I mean how many people can just up-sticks at short notice? It was a bit of an ask for anyone.
Were they also implying that I had to find the train fare?
Would I have to pay for my weekend accommodation too?
The financial implications were enormous.
I asked about the hours, to work out how far the £12,500 pa would go. I was told I’d be on a ’24-7′ contract. I wasn’t familiar with the term, and blondie looked at me as though I was stupid.
Was this a perverse version of zero hours? The hours were there, its just there was too many for too little money?
To add insult to injury these arrogant employers were going to top up the poverty wage with RBS products, you could top up your wage to £15k in cash or take that extra 25% bonus = £3k as a pension or some insurance or, not relevant me child care vouchers. The added cavate was you had to have an RBS bank account to pay the wage into. Given the cock ups I’ve experienced with my dealings with RBS, I doubt that will be another transaction which will go smoothly.
The whole episode has left me upset and when I got home, bloody and upset.
I called it a day and asked to leave.
I’d gone there to have my life picked over, they didn’t like the fact my british passport had my married name on it still on it.
Can’t a girl distance herself from an unhappy marriage?
If that’s so wrong, I’m guilty as charged.
I haven’t got the money to update the passport, I haven’t even abroad. I got the passport solely to prove I lived in my own country, thanks to paranoia about ‘johnny foreigner’ pinching British jobs. I now to justify my very existence.
The whole experience was just Kafkan and surreal.
I don’t think RBS can fix this or find me a place in their organisation. They were no upfront about the away from home training. There is no trust there.