Since graduating, I've become really good friends with the job and childcare section of craigslist. I've visited every day, sometimes even twice a day in hopes of finding a gem of a job amid a sea of "at a glance" wanna-bes. Though I contemplated taking a man up on being his female companion to the movies, "events," and dinners (I'm still at a loss as to why this was listed under what I thought were legal jobs), I held out for a job that wouldn't land me in jail.
It wasn't until recently that craigslist and I became true friends with benefits. Usually, craigslist would call back me back and give false hopes of something more, but this time was different. This time would be magical, or as magical as a side hustle can be.
My first time having success with landing a job through craigslist proved to be more random than my typical way to make money. Instead of babysitting, giving blood, or not brushing my teeth, I would actually have set hours and have to clock in and out and perhaps even have to pay taxes. Yikes. Considering I haven't done such a thing in over 4 years, I wasn't sure if I could handle it, but the prospect of having some income was too good to pass up. However strange the job may be.
Ever heard of a traveling rack of clothes that goes from warehouse to warehouse of bulk items for 10 day stints? Yea, I hadn't either. All I could think was that there would be Blake Lively handing me her magical pants that America Ferrera had managed to squeeze into. Much to my dismay of not finding jeans that would in turn find me a husband, these traveling clothes were anything but, yet much more believable.
I signed up for the job having no clue what kind of clothes I'd be shoveling down peoples' throats in the hopes of a commission. As described most aptly by one girl close to my age as "moo-moos," the clothes job was gonna be a doozie, and not the good kind.
It was me manning three racks of fabulous granny clothes for the past 10 days and by manning it, I mean wandering around eating samples and trying to flatter people into purchasing some heinous fashion failures that old women love. Yes, I was selling clothing made of spandex and some synthetic known as acetate, something stretchy and apparently "ready for travel." When asked why I wasn't sporting the gear, I simply replied that I couldn't afford it... I thought about saying I was saving money for my three year old son with a bum leg, but the commission rate wasn't worth the pity buys.
However, I did convince a few people to buy the clothes, but due to the fact that the warehouse didn't usually sell clothes and thus lacked a dressing room and the fact that people wouldn't be able to exchange items after the roadshow left, and the simple fact they were uglier than sin on a stick, it was a hard sell.
Yet, I did get to eat many a meal off the sample carts that littered the warehouse floor day in and day out. I made friends with Bantwon who even saved me some taquitos after his shift was done. I'd say it was a successful hustle... or at least it will be once I get paid... if that happens.
Aside from the fact that I now have pink eye for the second time this year (though the circumstances leading to the infection are NOT the same as the first time, for those of you in the know), I felt more productive and I may even dabble into selling spa quality sheets at the same place.