My first job rejection occurred last week. It felt like the girl I had just met, kinda sorta maybe liked, like like-liked, and just maybe had a crush on, had just informed me that "it" wasn't working. Wait... what? Are you sure? (Fast-paced brain functioning) Well, can't we work it out? I didn't know you felt that way? Hold on, what can I do to make it better? You... are... my... everythingggggggggggggggg (sound trails off into darkness.)
I had high hopes for a job with the financial department at ski resort in a place called Incline Village on Lake Tahoe. I had spoken with a very nice lady on the phone 2 weeks beforehand and told her about my situation, desires and ambitions. She was highly receptive, and said that she'd be interested in hiring me to help create, and ensure accuracy within, the annual report for the mountain, which takes about 5 months to complete. This would have given me great experience with financial statements and budget constraints, in an area of the country that had a room available with my name on it, with a bunch of my best friends who were already there. The Finance Director lady said that she only needed to get it approved by the mountain's Controller, at which point she'd let me know when I would need to show up.
My excitement meter had risen to Mount Everest levels. This would be fun, stable, and give me good work experience. I'd even get to drive cross-country, a kid with a dream. Also, it's lack of permanence meant that I'd be back east when spring rolled around. I'd even begun to tell people that I had landed a sick job in an exotic place called California. In hindsight, telling people was my biggest mistake of all. Couldn't I see how badly I had jinxed myself?
The e-mail finally came. It was short. Too short. Gmail lets you read the first 10 or so words of the e-mail, and, glancing over them, my eyes focused in on the word "unfortunately." My heart sunk. I opened the e-mail to read that she was "unfortunately" back at work from a week vacation! YES! a lifeline! But the rest of the e-mail reported that the Controller had decided that there wasn't enough room in the budget for me, and that she was very sorry that it didn't work out. I think I read that e-mail about 4 times in 30 seconds. She wished me well, and said that if I ever got out there that we should meet up. If I ever got out there? I CAN ONLY GET OUT THERE IF YOU GIVE ME A DAMN JOB YOU SLOPPY SALLY!!!!!! I was actually frozen in time. It could have been 30 seconds or 30 minutes, I just sorta stared at the computer screen as my heart began to pound in my chest. Eventually I sort of rolled onto my bed and just laid there. Back to square 1. Time to reboot.
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Do All Post's Need a Title?
Glancing over my previous posts in this blog has made me realize something I've unintentionally done, and that is to belittle the waiting profession and restaurant industry. Let me clarify this: Waiting tables is emotionally draining and surprisingly difficult. Little intellect is required of it's professionals, but, to be a good waiter or waitress, you need a great memory and incredible organizational skills. Those who work in the industry are smart in their own way, a way that was never my particular strength. Part of my poking fun at waiting tables is my own insecurity at being an extremely average waiter. My apologies.
Where am I now in my job search? I don't really know. When will it end? Someday. I AM, however, quitting my waiting job in 2 weeks time, which signifies the end of my stay at home and the scariness of a move elsewhere with little more intact than I started.
If this post feels melancholic or gloomy, than it's done a nice job of summing up my emotional state. There's so much uncertainty going forward that it's difficult to feel like I've accomplished anything. If a positive situation does come about, it will feel like I've settled for less than I should have. There's something dangerous about finding the first real job. This very well could be the most important decision I'll ever make. Any serious misstep could affect my future happiness in life. Who knows. It's too difficult a concept to try and grasp right now. Just gotta keep moving forward.
Where am I now in my job search? I don't really know. When will it end? Someday. I AM, however, quitting my waiting job in 2 weeks time, which signifies the end of my stay at home and the scariness of a move elsewhere with little more intact than I started.
If this post feels melancholic or gloomy, than it's done a nice job of summing up my emotional state. There's so much uncertainty going forward that it's difficult to feel like I've accomplished anything. If a positive situation does come about, it will feel like I've settled for less than I should have. There's something dangerous about finding the first real job. This very well could be the most important decision I'll ever make. Any serious misstep could affect my future happiness in life. Who knows. It's too difficult a concept to try and grasp right now. Just gotta keep moving forward.
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
The Bad Economy
I drove to the restaurant Saturday morning listening to a Wall Street Journal podcast that covered most major news of the preceding week. It went through the Dow's movements, China's unfair yuan valuation, yada yada yada. I slouched in my driver's seat as mundane stories rolled out of the little black cube. Then I heard a story that piqued my interest. Unemployment rates! As soon I heard those two keywords, I elongated my spine and improved my posture as to better comprehend the words being emitted from my static-laced speakers. I assumed it would be more bad news about the job market, but, to my surprise, the report stated that job prospects had risen sharply and the unemployment rate had fallen! Hallelujah! My reaction? NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
You see, there's an interesting dichotomy associated with my job search in a slumping labor market. I want a job. I want an entry level job in accounting or financial services (ok, sports teams, I'll work for you too if I HAVE to) in New York City. I want to learn how these organizations operate, what services they provide, and how these services effect inviduals and companies that use them. I want to be good at my job. But at the same time, virtual unemployment(restaurant work requires the IQ of the pizzas being served) is, well, easy. It's not exactly difficult to wake up whenever you'd like to do whatever you'd like however you would like to do it. So while the job market is weak, I can prance around town with a verifiable excuse for my unemployement. I even receive pity on occasion for my situation. But if the job market were to come back, what excuse would I have? What if I could't find a job when there were plenty available? On one hand, I'm excitedly applying for jobs, but on the other hand, I'm using the bad economy as an excuse to not look hard enough.
I love this idea that the economy is bad. It becomes the foremost excuse for just about anything. Lindsay Lohan's back in rehab? Well, she can't find work with this bad economy. Ford's closing down 175 dealerships? That damned economy. Hitler's ghost has risen from the dead and is waiting in the Rhineland to resume his oppressive regime? Stupid move on his part, that job isn't available in this economy. There is a large part of me that feels like our culture has become one reliant upon excuses, and the "bad economy" of this era is serving as the primary get-out-of-jail-free card.
You see, there's an interesting dichotomy associated with my job search in a slumping labor market. I want a job. I want an entry level job in accounting or financial services (ok, sports teams, I'll work for you too if I HAVE to) in New York City. I want to learn how these organizations operate, what services they provide, and how these services effect inviduals and companies that use them. I want to be good at my job. But at the same time, virtual unemployment(restaurant work requires the IQ of the pizzas being served) is, well, easy. It's not exactly difficult to wake up whenever you'd like to do whatever you'd like however you would like to do it. So while the job market is weak, I can prance around town with a verifiable excuse for my unemployement. I even receive pity on occasion for my situation. But if the job market were to come back, what excuse would I have? What if I could't find a job when there were plenty available? On one hand, I'm excitedly applying for jobs, but on the other hand, I'm using the bad economy as an excuse to not look hard enough.
I love this idea that the economy is bad. It becomes the foremost excuse for just about anything. Lindsay Lohan's back in rehab? Well, she can't find work with this bad economy. Ford's closing down 175 dealerships? That damned economy. Hitler's ghost has risen from the dead and is waiting in the Rhineland to resume his oppressive regime? Stupid move on his part, that job isn't available in this economy. There is a large part of me that feels like our culture has become one reliant upon excuses, and the "bad economy" of this era is serving as the primary get-out-of-jail-free card.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Job Search vs. Job
Writing a cover letter is like reading over legal documents in that they are both so tedious that you have to constantly remind yourself that the agony you are enduring is necessary to attain that life dream. At some point, someone told me to "keep your cover letters tight", but since then the only tightening I've experienced while writing is in the back of my throat as I choke back tears. And I become unable to think the word "tight", instead preferring the Austin Powers' adapation, "toight". It becomes impossible to say it any other way. Anyways, sentences need to be clear, concise and to the point. No wasted words. Keep it TOIGHT. I spend approximately 30 minutes per paragraph, ensuring that my cover letters are... you guessed it... toight. My blood pressure rises with each Microsoft Word "Synonym" look-up, and by the end of one cover letter, I'm basically sweating bullets. Then I consider a terrifying possibility: This is what full-time work is. I'm writing these cover letters so that I can... write cover letteresque memos and reports. My entire future will consist of me writing toight cover letters.
After that exaggerated epiphany, I drink some water (I like water) and calm down for a bit. I'm pretty sure real jobs don't require you to constantly write toight cover letters for success. I believe simple "loose" e-mails and conversations should suffice. But than I consider this: Is it better to write one or two toight cover letters a day with no job than it is to have a full-time job? In my opinion: Fuck no. Cover letters are like getting a flat tire in a snowstorm with no gloves. You want to kick, scream, punch your computer (only once have I ever witnessed someone actually punch their computer, but that one time proves that it DOES happen), and yell, "WHY ME GODDDD?" (I'm not very religious, so when I'm yelling at god for fucking this all up for me, it's bad.) But you don't do any of that. You stare at the screen and try to decide whether "extensively" or "broadly" is a better fit for the toight sentence you've just created.
Why can't cover letters allow for creativity? Wouldn't that really separate who had innovation, work ethic and focus? Of course, it would still have to be well written to show off your writing and communication skills, but wouldn't it convey more accurately your abilities? Allowing freedom of expression in cover letters might get us away from the networking requirements of today's job hunt and even up the playing field a bit.
Quick End-Of-Post tangent: Why does every employer have to include "Excellent writing and communication skills" as a requirement. WE GET IT! We have to be able writers and communicators. It's about as important as being able to eat, sleep and breathe in the job application world. So basically, if you're an illiterate mute, just stop writing your application now, because god damn it you're not qualified. We understand this employers. Now stop it.
After that exaggerated epiphany, I drink some water (I like water) and calm down for a bit. I'm pretty sure real jobs don't require you to constantly write toight cover letters for success. I believe simple "loose" e-mails and conversations should suffice. But than I consider this: Is it better to write one or two toight cover letters a day with no job than it is to have a full-time job? In my opinion: Fuck no. Cover letters are like getting a flat tire in a snowstorm with no gloves. You want to kick, scream, punch your computer (only once have I ever witnessed someone actually punch their computer, but that one time proves that it DOES happen), and yell, "WHY ME GODDDD?" (I'm not very religious, so when I'm yelling at god for fucking this all up for me, it's bad.) But you don't do any of that. You stare at the screen and try to decide whether "extensively" or "broadly" is a better fit for the toight sentence you've just created.
Why can't cover letters allow for creativity? Wouldn't that really separate who had innovation, work ethic and focus? Of course, it would still have to be well written to show off your writing and communication skills, but wouldn't it convey more accurately your abilities? Allowing freedom of expression in cover letters might get us away from the networking requirements of today's job hunt and even up the playing field a bit.
Quick End-Of-Post tangent: Why does every employer have to include "Excellent writing and communication skills" as a requirement. WE GET IT! We have to be able writers and communicators. It's about as important as being able to eat, sleep and breathe in the job application world. So basically, if you're an illiterate mute, just stop writing your application now, because god damn it you're not qualified. We understand this employers. Now stop it.
Monday, September 20, 2010
Preparation Woes
No matter how hard you plan, networking, or more specifically phone calling, can become a stressful undertaking. Before you make a cold call to your Aunt's, friend's, cousin's, ex-coworker (that was an exaggeration, but sometimes it feels that way), you need to prepare what you will say and be knowledgable of their company and what they will say. Oftentimes, that entails 20 to 30 minutes of stalking someone on the internet (precisely what I was doing before I decided to write this blog entry.) You learn all sorts of random crap, like where they used to work from LinkedIn or that they finished 247th in the 10th Annual Typicaltown 5K Run. And then you are ready for the big phone conversation. You dial the number pensively. First ring. Second ring. Your heart begins to pound a little bit. Third ring. Fourth ring. Fifth ring? Now you've lost your mental edge and are just hoping this damn ringing stops. Then finally, ye olde message machine. "Thank you for calling Company X. There was nobody available to take your call. If you would like to leave a message for Joe, press 1. For Sally, press 2. For Ivan, press 3." Etc., etc. You leave your message, somewhat happy that you didn't have to actually talk to anyone but also somewhat disappointed that you didn't just get this over with. You assume the deed is done.
Unfortunately, it's not. Just as you are sitting down for lunch with freshly heated up leftovers, your left pocket starts buzzing uncontrollably. Guess who? But now you're not in your comfort zone. For me, when this happens, I have to race upstairs to retrieve a pad and paper, sit down on my bed (the only place to conduct phone conversations), and try desperately to not sound out of breath when I finally pick up the phone. Sometimes, of course, you miss the call, and call them back while they are still leaving a message, leading to some confusing calling back and forth. And you've lost your focus and your mental checklist of topics to cover has escaped through the hippocampus.
Just another day of bullshitting. What's not to love?
Unfortunately, it's not. Just as you are sitting down for lunch with freshly heated up leftovers, your left pocket starts buzzing uncontrollably. Guess who? But now you're not in your comfort zone. For me, when this happens, I have to race upstairs to retrieve a pad and paper, sit down on my bed (the only place to conduct phone conversations), and try desperately to not sound out of breath when I finally pick up the phone. Sometimes, of course, you miss the call, and call them back while they are still leaving a message, leading to some confusing calling back and forth. And you've lost your focus and your mental checklist of topics to cover has escaped through the hippocampus.
Just another day of bullshitting. What's not to love?
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Restaurant Tales
Everything about the restaurant business separates it from every other profession out there. Where else do you work evening hours and get paid directly by your customers? Here's some uncorrelated thoughts on the food service industry:
1. Kitchen's in restaurants are dirty. Get over it.
2. You basically make an hourly wage. Even though it's tip-based, we all know that no matter how friendly, caring, honest, reliable or timely you are, you're getting about 18%. Once in a while someone will randomly give you 25%. And you feel great, like you earned it. And then you get 10%, and think "what the fuck did I do to deserve this you rotten cheapskate." It all evens out. Good work on the part of restaurant owners to sneakily institute the idea that staff pay goes up with performance, when in reality it makes little to no difference. When was the last time you tipped your waiter extra because they were so damn good at bringing your food? Were you awestruck at how effectively they carried 3 plates at once?
3. The interaction between waiter and customer is horribly awkward. "Hi, how are you today?" "Oh great!" "So, let me tell you about our specials..." Interpretation: "Listen, I don't give a shit about you, I'll forget your face within 4 minutes of when you leave, but I have to pretend to care now so that you won't remember me 4 minutes after you leave, because if you do it's most likely because I sucked. So here are our specials today..."
4. The worst is when I feel like I really connected with the customer, we laughed together a little bit and shared glowing smiles. And then BOOOOMMMM!!! They drop a 12% tip on me. I've been hoodwinked! It's like a battle of who can be the fakest:
- "Oh, a great start their from the waiter, really dripping with comfort and enthusiasm. That will be tough for the customer to overcome."
- "But WAIT! Will you look at that? The customer has helped to tidy up their dirty dishes, an amazingly useless maneuver that almost makes them seem genuine."
- "And the waiter comes back over the top by offering a FREE iced tea refill! Bold AND daring!"
- "BUT THE CUSTOMER HAS JUST SLIMILY SLIPPED OUT THE BACKDOOR HAVING LEFT ONLY A 12% TIP!!!!! A great showing by both sides, but the customer took control at the end there when it really mattered."
5. Don't be a waiter if you have a tendency to zone out. Too many times have I found myself in the kitchen area with a pitcher of water in my left hand and a medium-rare burger with fries in my right, and had no idea why I was holding either of them or where they were going.
6. Little known fact about waiting tables: There's no time to pee. As someone who hydrates to the tune of 3 nalgene bottles a day (is that weird?), peeing is an essential and gratifying part of my day. Once the action starts, I forget that my bladder is screaming at me, but once the day ends, it comes back, meaner and louder then ever. If there was a guiness record for longest pee, I'd be right up there after a day of waiting tables. Hmmmm, is the Guiness book of records named after Guiness the beer? If so, maybe that record exists... I should look into this.
7. Kitchen staffs nowadays are purely Hispanic. The names of those I can remember at Zany Zinc: Romero, Enrique, Ernesto, ... , shit what's that dude's name... damn it. There's one more. It's like Pedro or something. Anyways, our conversations consist of this:
Them: "Hola amigo."
Me: "Sup playa."
I can't understand why they seem to dislike me...
1. Kitchen's in restaurants are dirty. Get over it.
2. You basically make an hourly wage. Even though it's tip-based, we all know that no matter how friendly, caring, honest, reliable or timely you are, you're getting about 18%. Once in a while someone will randomly give you 25%. And you feel great, like you earned it. And then you get 10%, and think "what the fuck did I do to deserve this you rotten cheapskate." It all evens out. Good work on the part of restaurant owners to sneakily institute the idea that staff pay goes up with performance, when in reality it makes little to no difference. When was the last time you tipped your waiter extra because they were so damn good at bringing your food? Were you awestruck at how effectively they carried 3 plates at once?
3. The interaction between waiter and customer is horribly awkward. "Hi, how are you today?" "Oh great!" "So, let me tell you about our specials..." Interpretation: "Listen, I don't give a shit about you, I'll forget your face within 4 minutes of when you leave, but I have to pretend to care now so that you won't remember me 4 minutes after you leave, because if you do it's most likely because I sucked. So here are our specials today..."
4. The worst is when I feel like I really connected with the customer, we laughed together a little bit and shared glowing smiles. And then BOOOOMMMM!!! They drop a 12% tip on me. I've been hoodwinked! It's like a battle of who can be the fakest:
- "Oh, a great start their from the waiter, really dripping with comfort and enthusiasm. That will be tough for the customer to overcome."
- "But WAIT! Will you look at that? The customer has helped to tidy up their dirty dishes, an amazingly useless maneuver that almost makes them seem genuine."
- "And the waiter comes back over the top by offering a FREE iced tea refill! Bold AND daring!"
- "BUT THE CUSTOMER HAS JUST SLIMILY SLIPPED OUT THE BACKDOOR HAVING LEFT ONLY A 12% TIP!!!!! A great showing by both sides, but the customer took control at the end there when it really mattered."
5. Don't be a waiter if you have a tendency to zone out. Too many times have I found myself in the kitchen area with a pitcher of water in my left hand and a medium-rare burger with fries in my right, and had no idea why I was holding either of them or where they were going.
6. Little known fact about waiting tables: There's no time to pee. As someone who hydrates to the tune of 3 nalgene bottles a day (is that weird?), peeing is an essential and gratifying part of my day. Once the action starts, I forget that my bladder is screaming at me, but once the day ends, it comes back, meaner and louder then ever. If there was a guiness record for longest pee, I'd be right up there after a day of waiting tables. Hmmmm, is the Guiness book of records named after Guiness the beer? If so, maybe that record exists... I should look into this.
7. Kitchen staffs nowadays are purely Hispanic. The names of those I can remember at Zany Zinc: Romero, Enrique, Ernesto, ... , shit what's that dude's name... damn it. There's one more. It's like Pedro or something. Anyways, our conversations consist of this:
Them: "Hola amigo."
Me: "Sup playa."
I can't understand why they seem to dislike me...
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Battle Plans
I have a plan: 6 weeks at the Stinky Zinc, 2,000 bucks profit. That's about 330 a week, which is feasible but might be overshooting it. The plan's ephemeral structure is good for me to concentrate on what will happen after 6 weeks.
I'm still searching for opprotunities in finance or sports, or a melding of the two, and primarily through networking. The other day I wrote down all the folks I had called or spoken with, and was excited to see how many names were on that list. I then sorted them depending on whether they were a closed door or an open one, and there turned out to be more open ones. So... why... am... I... still... sitting... here? Well, let me tell you a little something about networking. It's like watching golf on TV. You move around from player to player, and you watch them get the ball in the cup, but then proceed to the next player who is shooting. Networking is similar in that the focus constantly changes from contact to contact, and you may have a great conversation and set up a meeting with a new contact or even arrange an interview, but because you can't rely on that one person to pull through, you have to continue with all your other networks also. And just like watching golf on TV, networking can upset you and make you feel unwanted. And once you've expunged all genuineness from your conversations, and are basically reading from a script, it gets really boring. Kinda like TV golf.
I'm still searching for opprotunities in finance or sports, or a melding of the two, and primarily through networking. The other day I wrote down all the folks I had called or spoken with, and was excited to see how many names were on that list. I then sorted them depending on whether they were a closed door or an open one, and there turned out to be more open ones. So... why... am... I... still... sitting... here? Well, let me tell you a little something about networking. It's like watching golf on TV. You move around from player to player, and you watch them get the ball in the cup, but then proceed to the next player who is shooting. Networking is similar in that the focus constantly changes from contact to contact, and you may have a great conversation and set up a meeting with a new contact or even arrange an interview, but because you can't rely on that one person to pull through, you have to continue with all your other networks also. And just like watching golf on TV, networking can upset you and make you feel unwanted. And once you've expunged all genuineness from your conversations, and are basically reading from a script, it gets really boring. Kinda like TV golf.
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