And so it continues…eager to cross out every company in our list, we then headed to our Second stop: Ortigas. This trip is pretty much the same as that in Makati, just a little less of everything: less walking, less buildings, less opportunities. One memorable application is that in ALV ConsultUs (we first read it as con-sool-toos, haha). We walked in, passed our papers and the receptionist asked us to wait. This is always a positive thing since, we assume, that receptionists’ “We’ll call you back” is synonymous to the sound of the shredder tearing your potential future away. A cool-momish type of woman came out, asked questions and told us that they need someone at the very moment…”hindi na namin kayo pauuwiin”. We knew she graduated from our university when she asked if it still floods in España. Unfortunately, someone applied before us but hasn’t called back yet. If not for that, Marloni would’ve been hired on the spot. Seh and I had dim chances since we’re only available for May, why? That’s another story. Of course, we still found a few who are worthy of an “owdyeyti” award. First off, we present…
The Loser award
It’s not that their company suck, or they had mean guards, etc…they just literally got us lost. The address in our directory turned out to be stockroom for a certain brand of footwear, with a semi-receptionist for the agency. That sounded weird but she was assigned to call the main office if ever applicants came by. It turns out that the main office is situated in another building, luckily within Ortigas area. We waited a long time for a phone call allowing us to transfer to the main, only to end up with a false address. Now the deal with establishments nowadays is that they hand you a form in exchange for your ID and you have to have it signed by whomever it is you’re meeting within the building. We went to an office only to be sent out in great embarrassment since we mistook it for another company. The form-giving lady reprimanded us when we came back without a signature. We came back for a signature to the people we’ve disturbed. As we went out of the building in foul moods, the guard informed us that what we were looking for was one of the first companies we went to earlier that day, a company that rejected us. So much for following directions. Blah.
The most memorable part of the trip is also the winner of our next award….
The Wish-ko-lang award.
Dosen’t Wish Ko Lang always showcase celebrity has-beens or a dirt-poor someone who serves as inspiration for their passion despite their condition? Well, the person we met is a cross of both categories. We came upon one company—I can’t mention them or they might kill me...or worse, sue me—that’s missing from the directory of the building it was supposed to be in. We thought it was a joke since none of the personnel knew of it yet urged us to go up on a certain floor. The guard called someone up and handed the receiver to me. An old voice crackled at the end of the line, he told me they don’t accept interns now since they were…um…re-organizing. Then again, he asked to see us. We came in the hallway beyond the guard’s stall and saw an old weak-looking man in a crumpled polo shirt. He asked where we applied other than their company. He put out a 4A’s directory and started pointing out the good agencies we should contact. Every once in a while, he’ll point out a name,, “Ah, I know him…before he was just a ( insert lowly position), now he’s the chairman/president”. All the while, people from the office at one end of the hall passed by flashing sharp glances at the old man. Some even gave looks that shouted in Celia-Rodriguez manner “Ano na naman ang kalokohang ginagawa ng nag-uulyaning matadang yan?!” . I started nudging my friends when the conversation got too long and the old man looked and sounded like he was about to cry. He didn’t know us and we didn’t know him yet he went through the trouble of even concerning himself for a bunch of kids he didn’t have anything to do with. He explained that he now works both as the media planner and creative team (one man can’t be a team) whenever the other office needed something. He relived the glory days of their agency the way grandfathers reminisce about the old days…it was heartbreaking. He didn’t have to tell the whole story, but we knew what the “re-organizing” meant. We saw him as once a brilliant man during his prime, a leader na napag-iwanan ng paahon. This was a man who loved and lived for his agency, so much that he’s the only one left in the ruble that’s left of it. We left in a rusty elevator shaft, yet we felt heavier than the mass of old steel that carried us down.