Saturday, August 25, 2007

Need Job, Will Beg

Have you ever watched a cat clean himself? He is meticulous, in a way that he never demonstrates elsewhere. Just look at the care with which he picks at his toes, lapping with thick, slurpy licks and then diving down low to crunch around his nails. But how fickle his effort is! Just after getting started on one paw, he quickly abandons it for another, and then that paw is cast away for a tail, or a nose. I saw a program about cats once, and it was said that cats clean themselves when there are bored, frightened, or confused. While watching my cat groom himself, I examine him, trying to read his emotions in his tongue's inflections. Is he frightened? If so, was it something I did to scare him? Was it my outfit? Or have I confused him in some way?

Maybe he is as confused as I am about my inability to find a job. We both thought that my new Ivy League education and consistently proven success at my current job would be enough. If not that, then my charming personality, bubbling over the top of my perfectly pressed and matched grey suit. Or perhaps my unbridled passion for excellence in whatever task I undertake? No? Really? But, I don’t understand…

What else am I supposed to have? What else am I supposed to do?

My inability to secure a new job is almost comical. It seems to only to worsen as I go. Since I am a qualified candidate, with a pulse and a personality, I can only imagine that my failure to find a new job is somehow chalked up to bad luck.

It’s not about luck, you say? Well, I don’t know what else it could be, if it’s not about luck. Yes, it should be about being qualified, and talented, and a hard-worker. But it’s honestly not, at least not in New York City.

My bad luck started about a year ago, when I first felt inclined to dive back into job searching. I scheduled a meeting with a woman who is well-known in part for her position as food editor for one of the nation’s best food magazines. We spoke at length about my desire to work in television and produce food-related shows, which would be a perfect outlet to blend my passions for television and food. I was willing to start at the bottom, to take a pay cut. I would do anything.

She hooked me up with a small production house based in Connecticut that did a couple of food shows for a large food television network. I met with the president of the house, and wowed him with my humor and heart. He said he wanted to find a place for me, and could always use someone who is extremely passionate and detail-oriented, regardless of my lack of production experience.

A month later, I emailed him to see how the rest of his interviewing was going. “Believe it or not,” he wrote, “I’m still in the middle of the interviewing process, but as soon as I’m done, you’ll know.” I took it as a kindly, “I find your tenacity annoying. I’ll let you know as soon as I can.” So, I curbed the emails and patiently awaited word. And awaited. And awaited. And…

It’s now been a year.

So, I posted my resume on Monster.com. Monster.com has a lot of crap postings, but there are always a few gems.

I applied for an “events planner” position at large Internet company. Against all odds, I got a phone call from them, requesting that I speak with their hiring manager. I spent three hours preparing for this phone interview. I took over four pages of notes. On the evening of the interview, I patiently sat beneath the architecture section in Barnes and Noble, anticipating the call. Twenty minutes go by. I call California, inquiring if the manager will need to reschedule our interview. Ten minutes later, while in the ladies room (awkward), I get a phone call letting me know that the manager was caught a meeting, and would give me a call in a half an hour. That’s thirty minutes.

Eighty minutes later, I was finally on the phone with the manager, blowing him away with my extensive knowledge of his company’s philosophies, and my overflowing passion for what his company does. It is all very sincere, and energetic. The manager was very gracious, apologizing for the wait. Honestly, I would have waited all night. He said that out of all the candidates he has interviewed, I was the only one who inspired him. He promised to happily recommend me to his manager, and assured me that I would hear back soon.

A week and a half later, I send am email to inquire where they are in the hiring process. My email is returned by a personal phone call from the hiring manager I spoke to, letting me know that his manager chose an internal candidate. Oh well.

But I really should have gotten that job!

Anyway. About a week after that, I got a phone call from a recruiter. She was looking for an executive assistant for the president of a company that developed software used to put restaurants’ point-of-sales data to work. I was familiar with the company, because the restaurant I work at uses their software. I mentioned this to the recruiter, and then explained that I was not looking for an executive assistant position (“But thanks so much for considering me!”). She did not take “no” for an answer, and counter-pointed with the salary. “The base is $80,000.” Maybe being an executive assistant isn't so bad? “Oh, really? When can I interview?” She said she’d give me a call back soon with an interview date and time.

The next four days were spent fantasizing about what I could do with $80,000 a year. I’d definitely buy some new furniture. Hire a cleaning woman. Get a massage and a facial once a month. I’d never do my own nails again. Maybe I’d buy a car? Why not?

So, on the fourth day, I called her to check in. After about two minutes explaining why she should recognize my name, it finally clicked. “Oh,” she said, “I was just about to call you.” Yes? “I spoke with the president, and he won’t hire you.” He doesn’t even want to interview me, or meet me? “No, he doesn’t hire employees that belong to his customers. Sorry, and good luck.” Ouch. So much for my new fabulous lifestyle. But wait a second—I was duped, and for no reason! I didn’t even want to be somebody’s assistant! That bitch!

Most recently, I applied for a campus recruiter position for perhaps the largest financial institution in the world. Ten days later, I interviewed with three managers, separately, for over two hours. I left the interviews feeling confident that I had a job, and was so tantalized by the prospects of what was soon about to be my new, incredibly busy life. Would I still be able to make it down to Mexico next month for my friend’s wedding? What about that concert on that night, or my friend visiting? Would I be away recruiting at colleges? Would I ever see my boyfriend again?

Yes, I would see my boyfriend again. And I would be able to attend my friend’s wedding, and make it to the concert, and be there when my friend was visiting. Why? Because I would not be away recruiting at colleges. I would not even get the job. At least, that’s what it looks like.

Once again, I was told that I would hear back very soon. The whole point of meeting with three managers in one day was so that they would be able to extend an offer to me without my having to come back in for another interview. The HR person assured me that I would have an answer by the following afternoon (either “yes”, “no” or “maybe”). How perfect, I thought. I had dinner plans that evening, and I excitedly wondered if it would be a celebratory dinner, or a consolation dinner. I prayed for the former, and kept my cell phone in the pocket of my skirt all day, awaiting the call.

Yes, there is a pattern here.

The day went by without a call. I did not even receive a response to any of the thank-you emails that I sent out to those managers who interviewed me. So, now I’m left to wonder: good news or bad news? Could anyone blame me for thinking the worst?

All right, so even if this is a "no", life will go on. If my life could change so quickly in over a week, it can surely happen again. You never know.

Eh, enough with feigning optimism. If I don’t get this job, I’m going to lie down on the sidewalk of my massive failure, and forfeit. And you can be there to watch and trample me.

That said, to all of you fellow job-hunters out there… Let’s all let loose a collective sigh, and keep our chins up. Or start our own company so we can take our turns as the assholes not hiring us.

UPDATE: Five days, four emails, and one voicemail later, still no word.

UPDATE II: Finally, six days later, was told that there were some more candidates (read: you're not getting the job) to be met with, and I'd hear back after Labor Day. And the luck continues...