Why does nobody want to hire me? I don't understand it. I still have all my fingers and teeth, a high school diploma, and a desperate need for tuition funds. Sounds like the perfect candidate for menial labor, right? Well, it seems you and I are wrong, my friend, for I have been scouring the globe for someone kind enough to throw fistfuls of money in my direction for weeks now, and all I've gotten is an email from Wells Fargo wishing me luck in all my future endeavors. Thank you, bank of Americans, but it's going to take more than a polite bit of data to give me a chance to fail Physics again.
It's possible that these companies know something I don't know. Perhaps my name is conspicuously similar to that of a suspected terrorist - say, Marianne Bunt, for instance - and they just aren't willing to risk hiring an affiliate of Al Qaeda. In fact, my hopes may have just been completely dashed by connecting myself to Ms. Bunt on a public site. A faithful Kmart employee Googles the names of every prospective hireling, and upon seeing our two names together, makes a shamefully incorrect assumption, and dashes away from the communal desktop to notify his supervisor. My bad luck ensures that this supervisor is an accomplice of Bunt, he informs her with his customary promptness, and she vows to silence me before I reveal too much information. I, oblivious to all this, continue to lie on the couch, grease my fingers with some Lays Salt and Vinegar, and stare dumbly at Rogers and Hammerstein's State Fair. Bunt carefully monitors my house for weeks before sneaking through my neighborhood while the night is at its darkest, which is completely unnecessary because my neighbors are too busy trying to keep their children from being run over to notice much else. Since I am no match for a trained killer in any respect (except for my incomparable ability to waste vast amounts of time), she ends me right quickly.
My potential demise isn't the only thing that keeps me hating job hunting. What right do these people have to say I'm not organized or friendly enough to sell snow cones in the parking lot of the Laundromat? They let Stephanie Meyers publish books, but I can't sell snow cones? Something is wrong with the world as I perceive it, I tell you what.
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3 comments:
I will admit, this one made me laugh, and I do sympathize with you. Or, I suppose "did" would be the correct term here since both of us are now employed. I swear, no place even called me back after I turned in an application. I even called Olive Garden like two or three times and told them my dad knew one of the managers. I thought that might get some results at least. They said they would call after they found my application, so either they lied or my application is hidden in miles of other applications in a dungeon far far away. All I have to say to them is "Ti spaco la faccia!" and they probably don't even know what it means! The only reason I even have a job now is because the place where I worked last summer is really nice and because I'm pretty goood friends with my boss. Hehe, maybe the next time we're unemployed we should go on a job finding strike.
It is very annoying that most people just ignore that you applied. Why can't they send a note saying, "Thanks for applying. We would never hire you." I'd feel a lot more closure if they did that.
Next summer, we'll do the strike thing. It'll be fun. We'll sell lemonade and put on puppet shows about corporate oppression.
Hear hear! You know, a little note would be nice. After all, they say it's nice to give someone a thank you card after they interview you, but why shouldn't they send you a thank you for being interviewed by them?
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