Gig: Americans Talk About Their Jobs Part 39

So anyway, I've been doing it for around six years. At first, I thought it was pretty great. All you need is a telephone and it pays well and you can work out of your apartment with extreme flexibility in hours. You self-choose when you want to work. There are no schedules or anything like that. Every psychic on the network has a unique four-digit pa.s.sword that can be accessed through a TouchTone phone. When a client calls, they listen to a little prerecorded thirty-second introduction to each psychic that's currently logged on and when they find one that they think they connect with-either through voice or whatever-then they'll type in that psychic's pa.s.sword. If they have no preference, then they just get the next available psychic.

So when I want to, I log on to my network, and if you type in my pa.s.sword my home phone will ring. And that's the only contact I have with the network, except for getting paid and-every once in a while they will monitor, at random, some of my calls to determine the quality of the service that I'm giving the clients and see if I'm breaking any of the principle guidelines. The main guideline is that you're not allowed to act as a physician by, like, dispensing medical advice or diagnosing things-which, from what I hear, some psychics will do. The other big no-no is death. You never want to predict death. As long as you stay away from those guidelines, they pretty much leave you alone.

They do monitor you for average call length. They like you to have longer calls than shorter calls, because it costs them a certain amount of advertising dollars to bring that caller in. They want as high a return as possible on that investment. But I'm pretty good at that and I've never gotten any negative feedback from my employer of any kind and I have a lot of repeat clients who request me specifically. So, as far as the network's concerned, I guess I'm a model psychic. But for me, personally, I'm burning out on this.

It's a tough job if you treat it seriously. I mean, you get a variety of calls, but generally it's people that are having problems in their lives-and a lot of them probably should be calling a crisis intervention hotline or perhaps should be in therapy. But it seems that it's easier for most people to tell their friends that they were dealing with a relationship issue and this psychic gave them wonderful advice, rather than say, "I was having trouble with my relationships and I went and I had to go see a therapist." There's a stigma attached to the issue of mental health and seeking help for emotional problems.

But some calls are actually a matter of life and death, so if you have any genuine feelings for the client base, it can make you feel awful-really helpless and conflicted. Some psychics actually think that they are Nostradamus-types or New Age healers who can heal people through their voice inflections. They may have it rationalized and think that they're really helping these people, but I know that they can get better help somewhere else. And it's hard for me to reconcile that they're often taking three-ninety-nine a minute from a person who's calling for financial problems, and sometimes feeling suicidal about those problems.

It's a conflict-of-interest situation. I mean, it's my job to keep them on the phone for as long as possible-that's how I get paid, and by getting them off the phone quickly it could affect my call average. But on the other hand, I have like a moral duty to help these people. So there's a lot of self-doubt, self-questioning whether I'm doing the right thing when I have a troubled client.

I kinda have to dance around it, too, because like I said earlier, a lot of these people are really reluctant to get any type of help. You just can't take a therapist's stance and go into that. Number one, it's against my contract with the hotline. Number two, the caller will hang up on you. So like, picture this: somebody in an abusive relationship calls, but they don't want to know what they can do to change the situation-they just want to know when it's going to get better. They want to know absolutes because, with their three dollars and ninety-nine cents, they're turning me into a guru. They want answers. So I have to really take a subtle approach and work in, slowly, during the course of the conversation, that, "Well, did you know that there's people that could actually give you consistent service, for less money, and might really help you out in this situation?" Then they might groan out, "Uhh, are you talking therapy?" And you really have to dance around that issue. This particular type of person doesn't want me, or anyone else, to suggest that, or to suggest they leave the relationship or that they create any changes in their own behaviors in responding to the abusive relationship. What they want to know is when the abuser is going to start being nice again. They don't want to consider the possibility that it's continually going to be abusive, because that would be painful. As a matter of fact, in their heart-of-hearts they "know" that the other person is going to change. They just want to know when, and how, and what are going to be some of the signs, and how their life is going to be so much better after this person changes.

I'd say maybe one out of fifteen calls will be crisis calls of this nature. A suicide call is rarer, but I get one of those a week, possibly two a week. I keep a list of resources next to my phone-different selfhelp groups, suicide hotlines, and such-and I've given them out sometimes, but it could be career-threatening. I mean, if they are monitoring me while I'm telling somebody to hang up the phone and call somebody else-well, I'm gonna need to go find another telephone psychic network.

So it's a burnout-type of a job and I'm burning out. I can still do it, but my tolerance for it is decreasing. In a lot of these calls where the clients just don't want to change and only want to hear when their lives are gonna improve, I now find a way to terminate the call and make up the minutes with the next caller. Because I can't tell them that their relationship is going to change-because it's not. And whereas in the past I could do a sixor an eight-hour shift, typically after couple or three hours I'm ready to get off the phone. And there's really nothing I can do to make it bearable. As a matter of fact, it really is becoming less bearable as time goes on.

I've started going back to school to pursue a more mainstream type of livelihood. When I meet people now, I don't usually tell them what I do to make money. Once you mention you're a psychic, it's tough to get taken seriously. You have to put qualifiers on it. So I've just kind of stopped talking about it. It's just something that I'm able to do now to make a living, something that exists. Nothing really led me to it. It's just something that was there that I'm using. I'll be glad when I can say it's in the past.

Okay, Mom's dead, we've cried, now

what are we going to do?

FUNERAL HOME DIRECTOR.

Beverly Valentine.

I'm a licensed funeral director at the Camelot Funeral Home in Mount Vernon, New York. I've been employed here for approximately twenty-two years. I was born in this town, just up the road.

I didn't want to go into the funeral business. I had some choices, some chances to do other things, but, well, it's a family business. My mom bought this place after my dad pa.s.sed away. It was an investment for her. My dad owned a bar, and she didn't want to keep it after he pa.s.sed because we were still young, my sister and I, and in the bar business, you know-late hours-there'd been a couple of robberies there, one police officer had gotten killed. So she sold the bar and bought this funeral home. Then she went right on working nine to five at New York Telephone Company. She put in thirty-five years before she retired. And she never physically worked here at the funeral home. It was just an investment where people worked for her. [Laughs] I was one of those people. I was doing social work for a while at a nursing home which closed down, so I was unemployed and I was debating whether to go back to school to get my master's in social work, and my mom said, "Why don't you go to mortuary school and get your license? Just have it in case you just ever want to go into this field?" And I didn't have a good argument against that, so I went to get my license and worked here and never went back to get my master's in social work.

I think in the beginning, I was more scared than anything else, just seeing somebody dead, just going back in the room, you know? I'm wondering what they're gonna look like. Were they in a car accident or they killed themselves, you know? Blew their brains out? You have that fear once you unwrap the body from the hospital, what you're gonna see. I wasn't around deceased people a lot before this. Most of my family is still alive-we've got longevity. So I had to get over that fear. Which was very hard. In some ways, I've never gotten over it.

Luckily, Mount Vernon people usually die of natural causes. You know, it's a small, little quaint town, people usually live the majority of their life here, they get older and die from cancer, that's usually the norm for us. That's not to say I haven't seen some horrible things. I have. I've seen a kid-it sticks in my mind-even now when I think about it, I get upset, he was two years old, his mother and father were on crack, and they scalded him in the bathtub, right here in Mount Vernon. All the skin was taken off, his face was disfigured. It was just a senseless death. I will never forget it. It makes me sick to think of it.

But, you know, that was the exception. That and a few other things. I mean, I've had my share of suicides and some bad accidents, but most of what I get is someone who, you know, died fairly peacefully. And my job then is just to try to make them look as natural as possible for their families. And that's not that hard.

The first thing we do when we get the body is wash it down. Then we do the incision for the embalming. That's the gory part, the b.l.o.o.d.y part. We're taking the blood out of the body and replacing it with chemical fluid so that the body will be firm, will not deteriorate. I don't like to do it myself. But it's important, you know. Embalming is for the people coming in to view you. If the body's not embalmed properly you will have odor and you will have leakage. That's what we're trying to avoid.

Normally, we do the embalming immediately and then, the next day, we'll do the dressing and the casket. Depending on the beautician, she'll sometimes do their hair in the casket-the curling or the straightening or whatever. Or sometimes she'll do it while the body is still on the embalming table. If the person is older and the hair is gray, sometimes the family will say, "Well, Mom wanted to go to her grave with dark hair, that was her request." So we'll call the beautician and she'll do the dyeing job right on the embalming table.

Once the body's in the casket, we'll do the makeup, because we have fluorescent lights and they give a glow and, you know, you want to get a good natural look going, so you have to do the makeup under the conditions that the body will be viewed in. Lots of times, people will bring in a picture of the person from when they were younger and they looked well. As opposed to how you see them now when they're in their sixties or seventies and have been riddled with cancer for years and look nothing like themselves. So if you have a picture, you have something to go by. That helps a good bit.

After makeup, we dress them. Most of the time for men, the wife will bring in a suit, a shirt, a tie. For a woman they'll say, "Mom wants a burial dress. She saw one on Miss So-and-so, do you still have that one in stock?" So I'll get it from my stock or I'll order one. Then we have a viewing that night or later that week. Or sometimes we ship the body out-down South usually, that's very popular with older people. They came here from Alabama or New Orleans or wherever, and they want to go back and be buried with their parents or their spouse. So we drive the body to the airport and ship it in the casket and there's a viewing at a funeral home down there.

People need a viewing, I usually say, because there has to be some kind of closure. Even though you know that person is sick and they're gonna die, I hear people all the time say, "This can't be, that's not my mother, it doesn't look anything like her." It's that denial. You know, that this person is dead, you know? "I don't want to accept it, I won't accept it." I think, personally, we need something tangible for that final closure. To physically look, touch, give a kiss, a rub, whatever, so twenty years from now we can't say, "Well, you know, I was at Mama's funeral, but I wasn't at Mama's funeral. I know she's dead, I see pictures of her, I read the obituary, but still-"

Many people want a direct cremation right from the hospital to the crematory, and we'll do that and their kids'll come back a year or five years later and say, "You know, I'm still having a hard time dealing with my mother or father's death. Even if that was their request, I just wanted to see her for that last time." Or they're wondering, you know, was that what she really wanted? Or did she just do it because it was easier for the family financially? Some people, they can't live with that.

It's a very emotional job. I deal with a lot of very raw feelings. Because, when death comes, well, normally people are going to call us the day after it happens, or it might even be that the person died that morning and they call us at five that evening. They've gotten over the shock, but that's it. "Okay, Mom's dead, we've cried, now what are we going to do?" The hospital's after them to get her out of the morgue. That's the first thing the people at the hospital say, actually, is, "Well, what funeral home do you want?" You know, the ink's not even dry on the death certificate and they need the morgue s.p.a.ce, because they only have like four morgue s.p.a.ces down there. That's it. Four s.p.a.ces.

So that's very hard. It's hard when it finally happens. And then, of course, there's the money problem. I always tell people it costs a lot to die. I don't like it, but it's true. People will come in to make funeral arrangements and they'll say, "Well, I buried Dad twenty years ago and it wasn't so expensive." And, well, what did cost the same twenty years ago as now? Not a house, a car. Not tuition. It's the same thing here. An average funeral today costs about six thousand dollars. I like to give out my pamphlet because everything's itemized in there-removal from the hospital, a hundred and twenty-five dollars, embalming, two hundred and twenty dollars, dressing and casketing, the casket itself, flowers, the grave, that's several thousand, and so on-so everybody knows. They can physically see all the costs.

But still, it's like the person wanting to buy a car. "Oh, I want a Cadillac, but I only have Volkswagen money." You get a lot of that in burials. People say they want a nice funeral, but when you tell them what a nice funeral costs, well, they don't have that kind of money. So you have to say, "How much do you have?" That's rough. Sometimes they say, "I have five hundred," or sometimes they say, "I don't have anything." Then I tell them the cheapest way is a direct cremation-that's one thousand two hundred dollars. But it's right from the hospital to the crematory. It's twelve hundred dollars, and if you have nothing, then we'll call the Department of Social Services and get you funds for cremation. They will pay for that if you truly have nothing. If you are dest.i.tute.

But for most people, you can't just let someone in your family get cremated like a dog by the city because you don't have enough money to bury them properly. You know, it's like, "Well, that's Aunt Mary and she was doing well at one point but she fell on hard times. We've got to get the money up to give her a proper sendoff." So they'll sc.r.a.pe the money up among themselves. Or maybe they have an insurance policy.

Sometimes it takes them a while to get the money. And normally, I charge twenty-five dollars a day to store a body, but if a family comes up and I see they're struggling, I'll forget the storage fee. But I won't give people a free funeral. [Laughs] Not that people don't try. People will try anything, you know? I'll say to them, "I'll hold the body, I'll wait for the money." Because like, say, insurance normally takes about three to six weeks after the person dies, but I have to pay all the bills up front, the minister, the organist, the casket company, the beautician, the singer. That comes out of my pocket. I'll lay it out sometimes for people who I know and where I trust them and their insurance company. But if you come in and say, "Look, I don't have any money," and I don't know you, or if you've played me for a softy in the past, well, I won't do it. You can go over to Leewood Funeral Home and fool around with them. It's not easy to say no to somebody whose mother just died, but I have to if I want to stay in business. I've been burned too often.

People come in and they'll say anything. They'll do anything. I've had a couple of situations where, you know, I thought I knew the person. They were born and raised in Mount Vernon, they went to school with me and signed a contract to pay me when they got the insurance money. Well, I do the funeral, and six weeks go by. I call, they're not home. I call again. They're out. I call the insurance company and they say, "Oh yeah, we released a check two weeks ago for twenty thousand dollars." Okay. So I keep calling. Usually they will come in and pay if I am persistent, but sometimes people will try to get fast. Mom or Dad is dead. The funeral's over. They've got twenty thousand. Even though they signed a contract saying they owe that money to me, they're going to spend it or try to leave town or whatever. So now I gotta call a lawyer or a collection agency and attempt to try to get my money. Sometimes I end up getting some back, but I spent more on the funeral than I got back.

And you know what? Some of the same people who try to stick me come back again, another family member has died, and they want me to lay out for another funeral!

I don't understand it. I could tell you stories about this all day that would make your hair stand on top of your head. Didn't used to be that way, but these are the caliber of people you're dealing with. People who are sneaky. But you still-I'm getting excited here-I'm overstating myself. I still have the sweet nice people that come in and say, "I want the best for Mom or Dad, tell me what the total is and I'll be back with a bank check." No problems. I still get a lot of that. I think it depends on the family and their upbringing. Because most of the time, in Mount Vernon, there's usually religion, from Sunday School on up, and they're affiliated somehow with the church, so they know there's an afterlife and they know how to behave properly. And spiritually, there's an acceptance. Religion, you know, it helps a lot, I guess.

For myself, I'm not sure about my religious views, but I know that seeing so much death firsthand, there definitely is a right way to do things. A right way to live your life. And I would say I appreciate life more because I do this. I mean, I try to appreciate every second, every minute, because I know it could all end like that. [Snaps fingers] So when there's a family reunion or a wedding or whatever coming up, and I start talking to people and they're saying, "Oh, I'm not sure I'm going to make it," or "I'm too busy," I'm like, "Hey, I might not see you at this wedding, but let's try to get together, let's take a vacation, or come over to my house and have a cookout!" And I insist on that. And I follow up. Because I appreciate family and get-togethers more doing this, more so than anybody else in my family, I think.

Would I go into this profession again? I don't know. It's not something that I picked. I'm not sorry that I'm in it, but some days I kinda think, well, you know, maybe there could have been something else that I'd have done better or should have done or whatever. But I don't know what it is. People come by sometimes and say, "Oh, you're still here? You buried my grandfather twenty years ago." Like I'm supposed to be somewhere else or I should have been dead. [Laughs] I'm only forty-six. I don't like that! [Laughs]

But then there's also times when someone comes in and they say, "Well, I'm glad you're still here. If somebody else in my family dies, you're the best. You buried my mother and that was so nice and you're the one I want for everybody." And those times, I'm glad I did stay. But I don't know. I have mixed emotions every time I open the door and come in here. I think the majority of the people do, that do this. You know, the people that handle death. Because when somebody dies, well, I don't know that a person should deal with that every day. I don't know if that's a fair thing to ask of a person.

There's just a lot of sadness. Like the kid I was talking about who got all burned up. That was more than I could bear. I still remember it like it just happened. So sad, so sad. And it always hurts when a child dies. Every time. I mean, if it's a disease and he's been sick with it for a long time, a lot of the parents will see the death as a blessing, you know, their child isn't suffering anymore. They'll tell me, "This is the most peaceful I've seen my child since he was born." But other times, most times, when it's unexpected, the parents want to take the child out of the casket, they scream and tell me not to close it. "Don't take him!" You know, they just start screaming, they just can't accept it, they just don't want to let go.

It's just too much, you know? And then to see somebody die alone. Oh, I don't have a lot of it, but I've had it. I had a funeral last week where just four people came. The wife was dead, the children were dead, I think he had two sisters and a brother so it was just them. He'd been sick in a nursing home for five or so years, so people probably thought he was dead already and all his friends had died. So we just had the minister, the dead person, and three people and that was it. They got in their car and went to the cemetery and said a few words and got back in their car and that was it. You figure this being such a small community, you figure just a neighbor or someone will come, but I guess by his being in the nursing home, people lose track or they sold their home and he wasn't going to church and he wasn't active in clubs anymore, n.o.body really came to visit him. And the sisters and brothers lived out of state, so when he died they came in for the funeral that morning and that night they flew on out back to where they were going. And n.o.body called to say, "Did Mr. Soand-so die?" It was just, you know, cut and dry.

Now think about that-you die, and there's the whole big world, and n.o.body comes. It's very hard to grapple with the fact that that happens, and to live with that. The world, sometimes, you know, it just seems very cold to me sometimes. Cold and callous.

I would like to take some solace in religion. You know? I see that a lot, working with these people. It does help. But personally, I don't know what happens after we die. Most days, I'm so tired I don't think about anything like that. [Laughs] To be honest, I guess the religious part of me says, yeah, there's an afterlife. Because I was brought up, you know, you're going to heaven and G.o.d and all that and you're going to see all your loved ones. That's what I'd like to believe, and there's a part of me, I guess, that does believe that. But there's another part that is like, n.o.body's come back to tell us. It's over with, let's just forget about it and go on with life. You know what I'm saying?

Life is so short, it's like a vapor. Here today, gone tomorrow. And there's nothing you can do about it. Nothing at all. So I don't have any advice for anybody except appreciate your loved ones around you-your family, friends, or whatever, because death is quicker than you think.

Credits.

Benjamin Adair interviewed the Bookie, Border Patrol Agent, Bus Driver, MC, and the Professional Basketball Player.

Kael Alford interviewed the Army Psychological Operations Specialist and the Campground Maintenance Worker.

Paula Bomer interviewed the Mother.

John Bowe interviewed the Actress, Advertising Executive, Air Force General, Anesthesiologist, A&R Executive, Carnival Worker, CEO, Corporate Ident.i.ty Consultant, Diet Center Owner, Drug Dealer, Escort, Film Director, Film Producer, Financial Advisor, Flight Attendant, Ford Auto Worker, Highway Flagger, Homicide Detective, Journalist, Kinko's Co-Worker, Lawn Maintenance Man, Lemonade Salesmen, Long Haul Truck Drivers, Merchandise Handler, Minister, Palm Reader, Painter, Pharmaceuticals Company Sales Representative, Paparazzo, Personal Injury Trial Lawyer, Plastic Surgeon, Poultry Factory Worker, Produce Stand Owner, Psychiatric Rehabilitation Therapist, Professional Hockey Player (with Noah Lerner), Public Utilities Specialist, Sailor, Second-Grade Teacher, Smokehouse Pit Cooks, Songwriter, Supermodel, Systems Administrator (with Marisa Bowe), Television Station Receptionist, Toys "R" Us Marketing Executive, Train Engineer, Transvest.i.te Prost.i.tute, U.S. Congressman, Waitress, and the Web Content Producer.

Marisa Bowe interviewed the Systems Administrator (with John Bowe).

Sonia Bowe-Gutman interviewed the Software Engineer.

Jeff Caspersen interviewed the Construction Foreman.

Jessica Clark interviewed the Lobbyist.

Christina Cupo interviewed the Medicine Woman.

Doug Donaldson interviewed the Town Manager.

Stephen Duncombe interviewed the Social Worker.

Amanda Ferguson interviewed the Food Stylist, Prison Guard, and the Research Biologist.

Andrew Garman interviewed the Corporate Securities Lawyer and the Telephone Psychic.

Bruce Griffin Henderson interviewed the Casting Director, Hat Saleswoman, and the Sports Agent.

Kristy Hasen interviewed the Adhesives Company Sales Representative, Casino Surveillance Officer, and the Orthopedic Surgeon.

Allison LaBarge interviewed the Stripper.

Ingrid Hughes interviewed the Funeral Home Director, McDonald's Crew Member, and the Temp.

Sarah Jude interviewed the Art Mover.

Norman Kelley interviewed the Advocate for Rappers, Clutter Consultant, Nurse, and the Workfare Street Cleaner.

Brad Kloza interviewed the High School Basketball Coach.

Noah Lerner interviewed the Political Fund-raiser and the Professional Hockey Player (with John Bowe).

Hannah McCouch interviewed the FBI Agent.

Cheryl Miller interviewed the Anchorwoman, Corporate Headhunter, Crime Scene Cleaner, EPA Specialist, and the p.o.r.n Star.

Matthew C. Mills interviewed the Prisoner, Professional s...o...b..arder, Taxidermist, and the Wal-Mart Greeter.

Steve Moramarco interviewed the Bounty Hunter, Comedian, Commercial Fisherman, Elvis Presley Interpreter, Gas Station Attendant, High School Math Teacher, Television Guest Coordinator, Traveling Salesman, and the Video Game Designer.

Alissa Lara Quart interviewed the Book Scout and the Squash Instructor.

Camille Renshaw interviewed the Dog Trainer and the Hallmark Gift Shop Saleswoman.

Dana Rouse interviewed the City Planner.

David Shapiro interviewed the Bar Owner and the Tofu Manufacturer.

Jeff Sharlet interviewed the Steelworker.

Jordan Smith interviewed the Auto Parts Specialist, Computer Chip Layout Designer, and the Gun Shop Owner.

Sarah Stirland interviewed the Labor Support Doula.

Paul Vee interviewed the Adult Webmistress, Heavy Metal Roadie, Pretzel Vendor, and the UPS Driver.

Eric Weddle interviewed the College Professor, Slaughterhouse Human Resources Director, and the Telemarketing Group Supervisor.

Sarah Yost interviewed the Buffalo Rancher.

Eric Za.s.s interviewed the Florist.

Charles Zigman interviewed the Film Development a.s.sistant.

Interviews by Benjamin Adair, Kael Alford, Paula Bomer, John Bowe, Marisa Bowe, Sonia BoweGutman, Jeff Caspersen, Jessica Clark, Christina Cupo, Doug Donaldson, Stephen Duncombe, Kathryn Farr, Amanda Ferguson, Andrew Garman, Bruce Griffin Henderson, Kristy Hasen, Allison LaBarge, Ingrid Hughes, Sarah Jude, Norman Kelley, Brad Kloza, Noah Lerner, Hannah McCouch, Cheryl Miller, Matthew C. Mills, Steve Moramarco, Alissa Lara Quart, Camille Renshaw, Dana Rouse, David Shapiro, Jeff Sharlet, Jordan Smith, Sarah Stirland, Paul Vee, Eric Weddle, Sarah Yost, Eric Za.s.s, and Charles Zigman.

Edited by John Bowe, Marisa Bowe, and Sabin Streeter, with Daron Murphy and Rose Kernochan.

Grateful acknowledgment is made to the following for permission to use previously published material in the "Medusa" chapter: Lyrics from "Diva's Den" and "Put in Work." Copyright Feline Science 1999. All rights reserved. Used by permission Copyright 2000, 2001 by John Bowe, Marisa Bowe, and Sabin Streeter All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

Published by Three Rivers Press, New York, New York. Member of the Crown Publishing Group.

Random House, Inc. New York, Toronto, London, Sydney, Auckland www.randomhouse.com THREE RIVERS PRESS is a registered trademark and the Three Rivers Press colophon is a trademark of Random House, Inc.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Gig: Americans talk about their jobs / edited by John Bowe, Marisa Bowe and Sabin Streeter; with Daron Murphy and Rose Kernochan.