Looking For A Job Is Like A Bad ComedyOkay, I'm a little removed from the work force. Had been a unrepentant slacker for the longest time. But in these tough economic times, being a slacker is just not feasible. I've had no choice but to pick up my game. Thinking I'm doing the world a tremendous favor by getting off my couch, putting the bong down, and cavalierly dropping off a couple of resumes a day...those days is over! I mean, I'm sorry, but it is just supremely tough out there. I tend to believe the econonmist that say "unemployment isn't really down, it's the number of people that have given up looking for a job is way up--that's what's skewing the numbers."
This week, my job search hit such a prodigiously low bottom, I'll just try to make light of it all, like it's a bad comedy, or a black comedy, or maybe it's not funny at all, maybe it's just pathetic. When I first started on this diabolical mission to find a job, my mind was in a delusional state. I hadn't worked for awhile, and all I thought I'd do was re-do my resume, slap on some makeup, recover that old business suit stuffed in the deep recesses of the closet, schmooze, and voila! A laid-back job that paid disproportionately well would bequeath itself to moi! Okay, now that didn't happen. So should I quell the fantasy of a job with the company car, and the three hour lunches, as long as I make my quota? Yep, kind of think so. Not too many responses. So then I thought: "Okay, what if I had to actually work a little harder than anticipated and make, well, not much, but enough to get by?" Still delusional. Not even a bite. Then, "okay, alright, so I can't find a salesjob, jeez, must I go back to waitressing or do retail? Shall I deign to do such lowly work at my elderly age?" Still feeling audaciously cocky. One last ditch effort of thinking I still got it going on...And ladies and gentlemen: Still nada. So we get to this week.
I saw a job on Craigs List "GraveYard Slot Attendant wanted at a Indian Casino. Must be able to be around smoke, carry 25 pounds, and be on feet for long periods of time." And I thought: "Now who in the hell would want to do that? I betcha there wouldn't be much competition there." Mind you, I had just recieved an email from a gift shop saying, "I'm sorry we can't consider you for this job, we had 287 applicants." Really? For a fifteen-hour a week minimum wage job?
So you can see I had somewhat gotten with the program on just how intractably tough the competition was out there. I was desperate. I wanted to make sure that from now on, I'd somewhat alleviate the competition by willing to do jobs that very few people would be willing to do. The casino was a long drive and I started thinking about how prohibitely high gas is, but kept driving, determined to get the job. I dressed in nice attire, was friendly and chatty, the HR women looking at me queerly, wondering why on earth a woman in a business suit would be applying for this job...because I'm desperate and hello! OLD. Although fifty-two is not that old, 'cept in this job market it's reptillian. I know they have some criminal records databa