Trying to find a job during the last six months is perhaps the worst experience of my life. I have applied to more jobs than I can even remember. I got an email in late November from some company thanking me for my interest in a job, but they weren't interested in me. I applied to that job in August.
I guess it's good I wasn't holding my breath. I could've been president.
I know I am not alone in being unemployed and struggling to find work, but I thought things would be easier. I graduated in May with a M.A. in English, and I was absolutely CERTAIN employers would be clamoring for someone with my schooling. I have teaching experience and editing experience. I taught myself how to use Photoshop. Come to think of it, I'm a blue-chip motherfucking prospect!
Not pictured: Me
Maybe I am wrong to think that. But, I thought I could get a job with relative ease. And I'm not talking about a career job; I'm talking ANY job. I applied to menial jobs that high school kids do. I applied to practically every store in the local mall, either in person or online. One would think with those odds I would land me something. I mean, I'm fairly certain I can sell overpriced t-shirts to douchebags.
100% of Buckle's customers
Unfortunately, four years of post-secondary and two years of graduate-level education leave me lacking when it comes to working for Express, J. Crew, Buckle, PacSun, Macy's, American Eagle, Abercrombie & Fitch, Radio Shack, GNC, Old Navy, GAP, Best Buy, or Game Stop. I was even rejected by a grocery store!
Here Everything's Bullshit
However, I'm not losing sleep over not working for those aforementioned companies. Honestly, other than for a paycheck, who wants to work for those assclowns? Maybe there are a few kids out there who think it would be great; however, after a few weeks, those little dweebs soon realize what we all know:
"Let my weekends go!"
But, there were three things that happened during my job search that were devastating and nerve wracking:
No. 1: Victory Sports USA
When I first arrived in San Antonio, I applied to a sports memorabilia store. While that doesn't seem like that big of a deal, the guy I got my application from was the district manager who spent an hour telling me about their business model, the fact they need people to work, and how they want bright young individuals to help build the store into a national chain. I left feeling I was a shoo-in, that I was going to have a job and be able to pay bills and do things like go to a nice gym, get cable, buy healthier food, and go to a Spurs game (or the very least a Silver Stars game).
They can't dunk, but they have great fundamentals.
I sat by the phone for two weeks waiting for someone to call. My fiancee had to convince me to let it go.
Ellen: Honey, it's been two weeks. They aren't going to call.
Me: You don't know that! They are checking my credentials. Calling references. Doing background checks. You can't be to careful in this day and age, you know!
Ellen: (Taking the phone away) You need to get off this couch and apply to other jo--
Me: WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU KNOW, BITCH! YOU DON'T KNOW SHIT! THEY WILL CALL AND I WILL GET THAT JOB AND YOU CAN SUCK MY MOTHERFUCKING BALLS, YOU STUPID FUCKING PIRATE HOOKER!
The role of me played by Gary Busey
Obviously, she was right. She is always right. She is a wonderful woman and I am sorry for ever doubting her or calling her such names. She did not deserve to be talked to like that.
"I'm sorry! I apologized, okay? Can you please take the gun outta my face?"
Six months later and I've still not heard from them. But, that was pretty painful.
No. 2: PetSmart
I was really pissed off by this one.
My fiancee managed to land a job working as a cashier at PetSmart. She tried to convince me to apply for a job as a stocker at the national pet store chain. I told her no and that, with my education, I wasn't going to apply to a job that a high school dropout could do for peanut shells. She nodded her head and went back to making dinner.
Oh wait, that's not right. She went behind my back and applied me online anyway. As a matter of fact, she did it on two different occasions. I was livid...until I never heard PetSmart. Either time.
While this isn't different from not getting any callbacks from the other jobs I applied for, it annoys me because I get to hear my fiancee complain every day about how they need more employees, some of the ones they do hire have no idea how to run a register, or they are completely unreliable. Ellen and a friend of mine helped train a new girl for cashiering duties. She only showed up for one other shift and was never seen again.
I smell crime drama...
So, if I understand this, I taught classes full of 19-20 year-olds English composition, but I can't handle a register or put up cat food. However, they hire some ditz who shows up for one shift and says, "Eww! I'm not working here. The place smells, and the cats aren't even cute!" and is never seen again. And, for a month after, they kept putting her on the schedule.
Yeah, great call.
No. 3: Rio Grande Jewelry Supplies
This is the most egregious offense.
I found a job on Monster for a copywriter/editor for a jewelry supplies company in Albuquerque, NM, a place I really, REALLY want to be.
Land of milk and motherfuckin' honey
If you know anything about mixed martial arts, then you know that one of the best camps in the world is Team Jackson-Winkeljohn based in Albuquerque. I want to train there more than anything. They have some of the best fighters in the world under their banner, including Rashad Evans, Nate Marquardt, Carlos Condit, Shane Carwin, Diego Sanchez, and - of course - top pound-for-pound fighter Georges St-Pierre.
Your girlfriend wants to sleep with him more than you.
And that's even before I mention the job. The job would require me to help create ads and write stuff. Essentially, this is stuff I can do with ease. I created a new super resume that had a logo I created for myself on it. I even taught myself how to use Adobe Photoshop and InDesign to make myself a more viable candidate.
Nothing says talent like sticking boobs on a raptor.
And it worked. I was put on their ass-backwards path to employment. The first step was filling out two pre-employment assesments, which are pointless. However, as pointless as they are, I managed to move on to the "next step:" the background check. They emailed me the forms and I faxed them to Rio via the 3-in-1 printer/fax/copier at my apartment complex's office. All was good.
It's all mai tais and Yahtzee.
Except it wasn't. After a week or so, I emailed Rio Grande and asked them if they received it. They hadn't. After briefly panicking, I refilled out the form and sent it via email. They sent back an email saying they got it. One week later, I got a letter saying they were deliberating and gave me the information they found on me during their background check.
Two weeks later, I got an email from the business coach of the copywriter team at Rio Grande. He requested writing samples that are "reflective of your work and 'your voice'." Once again, the next day, I sent three writing samples, one of which was an A research paper and another was a couple of chapters from a story I wrote as a part of my thesis
It's a cross between Wolverine, the Bourne Identity, and a Michael Bay wet dream
He responded that he sent them to the copywriter team. Once again, I felt a sense of accomplishment and felt one step closer to my dream.
And so I waited...and waited...and waited. A month later, I emailed Mr. Business Coach (seriously, does anyone know what in the world that is?) asking what was going on with the process. Another week went by and I didn't hear anything. I started preparing for the worst; however, I still felt I deserved to know my fate. So I called the man (which, in hindsight, I probably should have done a lot sooner).
After telling him who I was and what I was inquiring about, he stuttered and stammered before squeezing the trigger on my Albuquerque dreams.
It resembled something like this.
He repeatedly told me they weren't interested in me or the possibility of interviewing me. However, he did tell me that they would keep my information on file since getting through the pre-employment assessments were "a huge hurdle to clear," which is just a like a girl saying "we can still be friends" after she rips out a guy's heart and curbstomps the hell out of it.
No! Not again!
I didn't take that too well. I became depressed and stayed in bed all day. I didn't care anymore. I didn't want to apply to anymore jobs. I didn't want to go through all of that shit again. I either wanted to sit in the corner in the fetal position or turn into the Incredible Hulk and smash the fuck out of everything.
What you mean Hulk not qualified?!
I took a few days not to do anything. I didn't want to say or do anything that would further to keep myself from doing in irreparable damage to my chances of getting any other job. Posting all over the internet "Fuck you Rio Grande, you motherfucking cocksucking bastards! I hope you go bankrupt because your president blew all your earnings on coke that he snorted off a tranny hooker's dick" isn't going to do me any favors, no matter how good it would feel to say it.
But that doesn't matter. I'm still unemployed at the moment and I'm preparing to move back home because I have no money or job prospects in San Antonio; however, as much as I will miss the Alamo Drafthouse, I didn't have the greatest time in San Antonio because I couldn't afford to do anything, and, since my fiancee was being worked to death, we couldn't go and "see the sights."
The important thing is I need to keep trying - and I have been. But constantly failing to so much as get an interview is extremely discouraging.
Honestly, I think Sisyphus had it better.
"It's a living."
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