Monday, May 4, 2009

English 111 in retrospect

Upon entering English 111 this semester, I wasn't sure what to think. In high school I never wrote any more than two papers a year. I knew college was going to be different , but not to the extent that it has been for myself. During these past 16 weeks, I've typed more papers than I can ever remember completing in the past. OK, maybe that was a bit of a hyperbole but to say that college has been overwhelming for me is certainly an understatement. With all the stress of deadlines along with my constant procrastination, I didn't make it easy on myself. Instead of having a long thought out writing process in order to see improvement, I slacked off. I punished myself, by pulling off quite a few all nighters this semester only to see sub-par grades. Now don't get me wrong, when I turned in my work (which was usually last minute) I received decent grades. But, looking back on it now, I know that utilizing the revision process is critical to above and beyond success. I feel my instructor really opened my eyes to engaging the reader and correctly getting my point across through vivid imagery. I also learned to stray from redundant boring sentences. My ability to convey diversity along with my individuality aided towards the personal wants of the reader depending on my audience. I found joy in writing, just because I'm beginning to think on a broader scale as I mature. College has made me a smarter person because I have found interest in expanding my vocabulary and articulating myself to better communicate. Through this class I learned something about myself, sometimes I hated the work, but I always enjoyed the challenge. English 111 has in more than one way improved my social and writing skills for the better. I now enjoy the feeling of expressing myself intellectually in papers and in every day life like never before.

My Revisions


Scott Flint
ENG111-Sec28
Diagnostic Essay
1/28/2009



During my years in high school I was heavily into buying sneakers, particularly Nike’s Air Jordan line. I purchased a majority of my collection from Footaction, a shoe store in Lynhaven mall. I quickly became a regular at the Lynhaven location. I was always present on those early Saturday morning shoe releases. Eventually as the months progressed shoes in my size were reserved for me. This became a huge advantage to a guy like me who doesn’t find pleasure waking up early on Saturdays. I was having shoes held for me that were sold out before the mall even opened. It was truly a great time in my shoe collection era. One day, Roma, the manager of that particular Footaction asked me a question. She wanted to know if I was interested in a job at her store. If I would have known what was going to happen after that promising question, I never would have said yes.

Well immediately after that proposition, I filled out the application for the job. Roma told me I would be receiving a phone call in the next few days. I waited impatiently for a call for a day and a half, sort of twiddling my thumbs so to say. I finally received the call I was waiting for while eating dinner. I answered the call with a feeling of being nervous and anxious, but the word “hired” calmed me down. My face was soon lit up as I cracked a huge smile. I joked to myself that my obsession and bad habit of buying basketball sneakers at least came with an employee discount now. I assumed my hobby would spark a fiery interest and intense sense of dedication in my new part time job. I knew that I was very familiar with a majority of all the shoes and or accessories so success seemed to be a given.

I was hired on a Tuesday and told to report for my first day of training Thursday night. That school week I cannot even remember how many people I bragged to about my new position. A lot of the kids at Landstown high wore Jordan’s. My friends acknowledged my collection and often told me it was superb. I felt as a Varsity basketball player, and an avid Jordan junkie, that adding Footaction employee into the mix would boost my status. A vast majority of my peers envied my new job. They were jealous, because of the difficulty of acquiring the job in the first place. Working at the mall during high school has always been considered cool. My status with the crowd I was around was astronomical because of Footaction. Everyone viewed the job as, a first hand in the cookie jar scenario. This holds especially true, when I could see the new releases before the general public. Seeing the shoes before the public was well and good but I was craving the employee discounts.

I remember walking into the mall anxious. I was wearing my all black Footaction Polo, black slacks, and my brand new Black Air Jordan 8’s. I looked perfect for the part of a sneaker salesman. I was sharply dressed and I felt I appealed to the targeted customer. It’s weird that my sudden infatuation with my work uniform overshadowed my nerves, and left me calm and collected. Once, I arrived to the store I was shown how to login and start my time clock for work. Roma informed me that I was getting paid $ 5.25 per hour, plus commission. Shock set in when I heard my hourly pay and found out that my commission was only two percent. I was very knowledgeable and competent in certain shoes and styles. I came to a realization that my experience with the products were already present. I had knowledge about the way shoes were used, like the certain types of training or sport. I figured I would be able to get enough commission to compensate for my low hourly pay. I didn’t attempt to frown on the money too much as I walked to the infamous wall of performance enhancing footwear. “You’ve got Basketball, track, casual, football, boots, women’s, kids, and toddler shoes”. Roma said, as she gave me a tour of the store in and out. She also told me that each style of shoe had a certain three digit code on the price tag. The code on the shoe correlated to its location in the back room among mountain like stacked boxes. As I was listening to my manager, I found it hard to comprehend the code system that tells where the product is located. So, on top of not liking my pay I now found frustration in the main element of the company. It was certainly a bad start to a promising job I had previously drooled over.

I soon learned the ropes, and began to find my way around the store. During my first work week I started retrieving shoes for customers which led to me making sales. I felt a sense of achievement, then come to find out, selling the shoe itself wasn’t everything. Even if you sold shoes consistently all day, the manager wanted you to push other products such as (Cleaner, Insoles) alongside them. I’ve been a customer long before I was ever an employee so I have the personal experience of hating being questioned. I knew that I didn’t want to be hassled with products that I didn’t ask for while walking into a shoe store. So my philosophy was that, the average Joe customer doesn’t appreciate being hustled either. When you attempt to purchase some shoes, sneaker companies try to additionally sell their socks, shoe cleaner, anything for a buck. I didn’t like the idea of asking the customer for additional items to try out, so I stuck to my view. If I didn’t like that service as a customer, why would they? I was persistent with my logic, but sadly my manager would complain every work day. So, after two weeks of working at my previously thought, “dream” High School job, I saw the end very near.

I got my paycheck and it was just the final straw. I knew it was time for me to call it quits. My previous worries about my pay were indeed valid. After six hard work days later, my check read a skimpy one-hundred and twenty-six dollars. Footaction received three strikes and struck out with me. The pay was just too low for the effort being put in. The system of coding the items was sloppy and sometimes confusing. I just wasn’t in agreement with their standards and practices so I had to move on. It was definitely the first and last job I will ever have in the commission field. The idea of hustling a shoe cleaning product in order to better ones check is absurd. The job as a whole was just unbearable. Thousands of shoe boxes were in the way of the particular one that you needed. I was just sick and tired Footaction. I was completely against the company shoving shoe cleaning products down the customer’s throat. It only suggests the companies’ greed and hunger for more of the average Americans money. After weighing out the pros and cons I informed Roma of my resignation. I soon moved on to a more desirable steady wage at Bottom Dollar.

All in all, working at Footaction was most certainly not what I expected. Before the job I had a love for sneakers, and a curious desire to work in a shoe store. After the job I still love fresh shoes, I just would never in my lifetime consider selling them again. I would strongly agree that the job was horrible match for me; but I don’t regret it. Footaction was just another learning experience at the end of the day. It was a building block toward structuring myself and my life. The glory of working at a shoe store faded faster than a shooting star. I found it quite ironic, that my High School dream job turned out to be such a nightmarish flop. I will never miss Footaction the job, but I’ll admit to missing the employee discount for the rest of my life.



Scott Flint
111-28 Revised Diagnostic
5/4/09

Throughout the duration of my teenage years I was profoundly interested in sneakers. I’ve collected numerous pairs, (particularly Nike’s Air Jordan line) that have accumulated into a small fortune. I purchased a majority of my collection from Footaction, a shoe store in Lynhaven mall. Swiftly I became a habitual customer at that particular Lynhaven location. The expensive limited shoes were sold before the mall opened. I was always present on those early Saturday mornings, waiting in line for all the Jordan’s I desired. Eventually as the months progressed, shoes in my size were reserved for me. This became a tremendous advantage to a guy like me who doesn’t find pleasure in waking up early on the weekend. Shoes were held for me that were selling out before the mall even opened. It was truly a great point in time during my shoe collecting era. One day after my transaction, Roma, the manager of that particular Footaction asked me a question. She wanted to know if I was interested in a job at her store. If I would have known what was going to happen after that promising question, I by no means would have said yes.

Well immediately after that proposition, I filled out the application for the job. Roma told me I would be receiving a phone call in the next few days. I impatiently waited for a call for a day and a half, sort of twiddling my thumbs so to say. I finally received the call I was waiting for while eating dinner. I answered the call with a feeling of anxiety, but the word “hired” calmed me down. My face was soon lit up as I cracked a huge smile. I joked to myself that my obsession and bad habit of buying basketball sneakers had at least came with an employee discount now. I assumed my hobby would spark a fiery interest and intense sense of dedication in my new part time job. I knew that I was very familiar with a majority of all the shoes and or accessories so success seemed to be a given.

I was hired on a Tuesday and told to report for my first day of training Thursday night. That school week I cannot even remember how many people I bragged to about my new position. A lot of the kids at Landstown high wore Jordan’s. My friends acknowledged my collection and often told me it was superb. I felt as a Varsity basketball player, and an avid Jordan junkie, that adding Footaction employee into the mix would boost my status. A vast majority of my peers envied my new job. They were jealous, because of the difficulty of acquiring the job in the first place. Working at the mall during high school has always been considered cool. My status with the crowd I was around was astronomical because of Footaction. Everyone viewed the job as, a first hand in the cookie jar scenario. This holds especially true, when I could see the new releases before the general public. Seeing the shoes before the public was well and good but I was craving the employee discounts.

I remember walking into the mall anxious. I was wearing my all black Footaction Polo, black slacks, and my brand new Black Air Jordan 8’s. I looked perfect for the part of a sneaker salesman. I was sharply dressed and I felt I appealed to the targeted customer. It’s weird that my sudden infatuation with my work uniform overshadowed my nerves, and left me calm and collected. Once, I arrived to the store I was shown how to login and start my time clock for work. Roma informed me that I was getting paid $ 5.25 per hour, plus commission. Shock set in when I heard my hourly pay and found out that my commission was only two percent. I was very knowledgeable and competent in certain shoes and styles. I came to a realization that my experience with the products were already present. I had knowledge about the way shoes were used, like the certain types of training or sport. I figured I would be able to get enough commission to compensate for my low hourly pay. I didn’t attempt to frown on the money too much as I walked to the infamous wall of performance enhancing footwear. “You’ve got Basketball, track, casual, football, boots, women’s, kids, and toddler shoes”. Roma said, as she gave me a tour of the store in and out. She also told me that each style of shoe had a certain three digit code on the price tag. The code on the shoe correlated to its location in the back room among mountain like stacked boxes. As I was listening to my manager, I found it hard to comprehend the code system that tells where the product is located. So, on top of not liking my pay I now found frustration in the main element of the company. It was certainly a bad start to a promising job I had previously drooled over.

I soon learned the ropes, and began to find my way around the store. During my first work week I started retrieving shoes for customers which led to me making sales. I felt a sense of achievement, then come to find out, selling the shoe itself wasn’t everything. Even if you sold shoes consistently all day, the manager wanted you to push other products such as (Cleaner, Insoles) alongside them. I’ve been a customer long before I was ever an employee so I have the personal experience of hating being questioned. I knew that I didn’t want to be hassled with products that I didn’t ask for while walking into a shoe store. So my philosophy was that, the average Joe customer doesn’t appreciate being hustled either. When you attempt to purchase some shoes, sneaker companies try to additionally sell their socks, shoe cleaner, anything for a buck. I didn’t like the idea of asking the customer for additional items to try out, so I stuck to my view. If I didn’t like that service as a customer, why would they? I was persistent with my logic, but sadly my manager would complain every work day. So, after two weeks of working at my previously thought, “dream” High School job, I saw the end very near.

I got my paycheck and it was just the final straw. I knew it was time for me to call it quits. My previous worries about my pay were indeed valid. After six hard work days later, my check read a skimpy one-hundred and twenty-six dollars. Footaction received three strikes and struck out with me. The pay was just too low for the effort being put in. The system of coding the items was sloppy and sometimes confusing. I just wasn’t in agreement with their standards and practices so I had to move on. It was definitely the first and last job I will ever have in the commission field. The idea of hustling a shoe cleaning product in order to better ones check is absurd. The job as a whole was just unbearable. Thousands of shoe boxes were in the way of the particular one that you needed. I was just sick and tired Footaction. I was completely against the company shoving shoe cleaning products down the customer’s throat. It only suggests the companies’ greed and hunger for more of the average Americans money. After weighing out the pros and cons I informed Roma of my resignation. I soon moved on to a more desirable steady wage at Bottom Dollar.

All in all, working at Footaction was most certainly not what I expected. Before the job I had a love for sneakers, and a curious desire to work in a shoe store. After the job I still love fresh shoes, I just would never in my lifetime consider selling them again. I would strongly agree that the job was horrible match for me; but I don’t regret it. Footaction was just another learning experience at the end of the day. It was a building block toward structuring myself and my life. The glory of working at a shoe store faded faster than a shooting star. I found it quite ironic, that my High School dream job turned out to be such a nightmarish flop. I will never miss Footaction the job, but I’ll admit to missing the employee discount for the rest of my life.