Employer Fail #8: The Misinformation

One day I'm going to run out of synonyms for "lie" to use in my titles. I honestly don't understand why employers/hiring managers, on average, seem to be about as truthful as Baghdad Bob. Is there some kind of feedback mechanism where chronic liars are more likely to have jobs that give them hiring decisions? Well, considering that they'd be the ones to lie on their resumes... hey, wait a second! I think I'm on to something here. But this is no space for pontificating about conspiracy theories, at least not yet.

I received an email last week responding to one of my applications, this time for another position where I'd function as some sort of liaison between a medical software company's clients and their tech department. Curiously, it seems like every other job I interview for has me do something akin to coordinating between what managers consider "people," (i.e. customers) and "those-who-cannot-be-allowed-to-see-daylight-or-scare-the-children" (i.e. tech/IT/R&D/those things from Monsters, Inc. that my little sister really loves). While I shouldn't really be complaining about the fact that the market has somehow seen fit to create a position which I ostensibly qualify for, I do wonder if there could be a substantial gain in just teaching someone in one of the "stay out of sight" departments how to interface with customers/clients themselves. Then again, maybe that's why I never get hired for these jobs: the position simply doesn't exist, and they do just end up sliding a techie or what have you into that role.

In any case, we scheduled a phone interview, I brushed up on the position and its requirements, and sat anxiously by the phone at the appropriate time. Five minutes passed, and nothing. Ten minutes, nope. At around thirteen, I finally got a call. Hello, how are you, listen, I have to go into a meeting, can I call you back in twenty minutes or so? Well, so much for your adeptness at scheduling things. But hey, I'm a flexible guy, sure, twenty minutes is fine. Not twenty, but more like thirty minutes later, she called back. Why couldn't she just have said thirty minutes? This disrespect for applicants' time and punctuality is another annoyingly recurring feature of the job market, though I can't reason out a conspiracy conjecture for why people who either have poor time management skills or simply can't deal with numbers would be more likely to serve in hiring/human resources roles.

Gripes about lateness aside, the woman I spoke to was impressively pleasant. We even joked around, which is a rarity given that most interviewers generally give off vibes that they'd rather be eaten by a crocodile with gingivitis than continue speaking with you longer than they have to. I was asked a fair bit of detailed questions concerning my experience, which I answered in a way that aligned my work history with the position's listed requirements. All in all, this lasted for about twenty minutes, until the interview wound down to a close, perhaps because the interviewer had run out of questions. At that point, she went into the ubiquitous "let me talk a little about the position" mode, and dropped this gem: "Well, what we're looking for is really someone with more of a customer service background, in that working with customers and clients will take up the majority of their time."

Do I have experience in "customer service" that I can point to in a pinch? Absolutely. Do I have experience working with people who are effectively clients? Sure do. Are my current volunteering endeavors really anything more than efforts towards conveying complex, technical concepts face-to-face to people who don't quite understand them themselves? (I translate for members of the Russian community who wish to immigration paperwork on behalf of relatives still in Eastern Europe.) Indeed. So, "customer service background," well, that's not a problem for me. However, did any of the questions she asked of me actually relate to any sort of customer service at all? Nope; they mostly dealt with using technology for project-based goals as well as the details/culture of my past work experience. Okay, wanting one thing and not really indicating it in the interview, well, that happens if you're a bad interviewer. But here's the really ridiculous part: I'm going to copy-paste the listed requirements for the position on the original listing that I replied to, which was also emailed to me prior to the phone interview. Look on their works, ye mighty, and despair:

-BA/BS
-Ability to learn quickly, multi-task, and prioritize
-Must be proficient in Word, Excel, PowerPoint and Internet Explorer
-Detail oriented, enthusiastic, self-motivated, eager, and have a customer service sensibility
-Excellent communication and interpersonal skills
-Highly organized and self motivated with the ability to work independently
-Bilingual capability (German, French, Spanish) - a distinct advantage

So, while I harped on my organizational skills and prioritization abilities, my affinity for assorted office programs, my attention to detail, the fact that I repeatedly and inadvertently find myself tutoring people in Spanish, for crying out loud, I was secretly being judged for lacking something beyond that which was buried in the line about random intangibles such as "enthusiasm." What does a customer service "sensibility" even mean? The dictionary defines it as, generally, "capacity for sensation or feeling." So someone with a customer service "sensibility" has the ability to "feel" a customer service role? First, why not just say experience, if that's what you're going for and want? Second, why not actually try to elevate that in importance, not only in the listing, but in the interview itself, if that's what you're really looking for?

Employer Fail #45: If you want something in a candidate, say it. Don't make them guess. Saying one thing when you want another just wastes everyone's time, which, given Employer Fail #42, is apparently something you don't seem to care a lot about.

Upon hearing those words about the desire to have a candidate well-versed in customer service, I initially tried to blurt out, in protest, "Wait! Hey! I have that too, let me tell you about it." But, it came out more as "W--!" as the interviewer cut me off with a firm but pleasant, "Okay, well, that wraps this up. We'll be in touch. Thanks for taking the time to interview with us." I figured forcefully interrupting the niceties of a goodbye would've been uncouth, so I went along with the disappointing denouement.

If it had ended there, with just that degree of fail, it would have been frustrating and maddening, but without a pointed insult. That was to come too. Before the requirement turnaround, I had gotten to asking the interviewer a few questions about the organization she represented, as well as the job itself, and got to talking about timetables for the position. I asked when they were looking to have someone start by, assuring her that I was available as soon as possible, and was told that they planned to finish the phone interviews within the next couple of days and start calling people in to interview on-site. In the course of this, despite me not asking her to, she promised me (promised!) that she would call me back within two days, at the most, letting me know one way or the other. It's been over a week, and still no phone call.

Why make a promise you're going to break, especially if I didn't ask you to guarantee me anything? At this point, it could still turn out to be Employer Fail #38, with her calling me back two months from now, where she will regret to inform me that the position went to a chronic liar who can't tell time but has customer service sensibility flowing out the proverbial yin-yang, but for now, it's just insulting.

Oh, and for those keeping score at home, I have yet to receive a single reply from any of the fourteen things I applied to a couple of days ago. Stay classy, job market!

A New Record!

Today I applied for 14 jobs. Cover letter, occasional employment/EOE questionnaire, and all.

Responses I'll get? Zero at par, one if I'm lucky, two at the utmost. Those are my bets, anyway.

More fail to come just as soon as I have enough time to write about fail as opposed to actually carry out fail.

Employer Fail #7: The Horde

No, not that Horde. Not the one with green-skinned brutes, towering cow-men, rejects from Night of the Living Dead, and the Pasadena Anorexics Anonymous club. This one:

A few weeks ago, I encountered a listing on Monster that talked about a new hotel opening, and the corresponding drive to staff it before its inauguration. As a result, a "casting call" would be held in a nearby theater, and the listings stressed that no experience was necessary and that a wide variety of positions were being exhibited. Not really wanting to work in the hospitality industry, I still figured I might as well show up if only to get some hilarious stories out of it. I mean, how dour could a place that described its application process as a "casting call" really be?

Not dour at all, it turns out. The "casting call" was for two days, Monday and Tuesday. On Monday, the listed start time was noon, so I headed out a little early and made my way across downtown towards the venue. As I was approaching it, I happened to be across the street, which was fortuitous for it let me behold what this impending hotel-opening had wrought. Across the street was not a line but a throng, a horde, a teeming mass of suits, polo shirts, heels, skirts, pantsuits, those-fancy-but-useless-things-people-use-to-hold-their-resumes, and so on. It was only 12:03. The line stretched all the way down an entire city block, and was winding around the corner as it became more and more tumescent. In addition to its length, most people were also sardined width-wise, as each "spot" in line was 3-6 people deep. I walked up and down the street opposite this event, taking in the view and making some calculations. I figured that at this rate, even with the corresponding drop-off as the day went on, they would have a thousand people come in over the course of the day. I stood around for five minutes and noticed that they were only taking in a person at a time, with only two people ever taken in simultaneously, and calculated that it would be well into the evening before I got to go in, provided I got in line right then and there. I decided not to waste my time, chances for hilarity notwithstanding, and headed for the nearest subway station.

I did notice a few hilarious things even while not in line. The coordinators seemed absolutely stunned and agape at the turnout, and their efforts to somehow manage the massive turnout seemed frantic, flailing, and futile. Some police had shown up, perhaps also confused as to why a riot/protest/demonstration/Harry Potter release queue had shown up without notifying the authorities beforehand. (In the end, I found out that 600-700 people had shown up that day. Not quite a whole grand, but still a ridiculous figure.)

After I got home, I decided, on a hunch, to investigate why turnout was so ridiculously large. Google answered this for me rather quickly, as it generally does. The hotel company had posted the same listing everywhere it could have: every local newspaper, Monster, Craigslist, LinkedIn, Twitter, Myspace, Facebook, Japanese Facebook, and the moon.

Employer Fail #41: More is not better when it's overkill. If you can't process that many candidates, don't try to set records for "longest line of unemployed people." Also, Japanese Facebook, really? Really?

The next morning, however, brought with it another day of unemployment, and I found myself going right back to that same block for a glimpse of hilarity at best, and a hotel job at worst. This time, the horde was nowhere to be seen. Of course, this makes tons of sense--if you're unemployed, it doesn't matter whether you go to something on Monday or Tuesday, and as a result, most interested parties would have shown up on the earlier day. Given what I overheard on the street, most people there on Tuesday were those, like me, turned away by the pulsating throng of the prior day, not those that generally couldn't make it on a Monday for whatever reason. Ah, double-digit unemployment, so effortlessly imposing its own will on the citizenry.

The next day, the process was set to begin at 10:00, so I headed out even earlier. I got there at around 9:30, and found no line, just a lone man sitting outside, perhaps not even for event, but solely for lack of another place to be. I stood with my back to a wall and read a book, positioning myself to keep the sun out of my eyes so I could read undisturbed. As a result, a lot of people leapfrogged me in the theoretical line, and were generally confused by my presence. By 10:00, a line of twenty or so had formed, but for some reason, no movement was taking place at the front; they were apparently late getting started despite the lack of a horde.

In the course of this delay, a bitter irony transpired. A destitute Asian woman, perhaps homeless, noticed a line of well-dressed people and went over. Starting from the back, she would pop into someone's field of vision, exclaim "Hello!" and shuffle two dimes between the fingers of a raised hand. The greeting was almost certainly the only English she knew, and her strategy was not particularly effective, as most people in line seemed to think she was offering them change rather than asking if they had any to cede to her. Perhaps if she had known she was asking for change from people who themselves had no ways of making living, people who were dressing up in suits to get jobs as bartenders at a hotel, she may not have proceeded as she did. But then again, what other choice did she have? Certainly her choices are worse than those whom she was asking for pennies, people who themselves had few choices other than being there and waiting for the interviewing to mercifully begin.

Eventually a man came out, assuring us that everything would start shortly, and asking if we had any questions. Unfortunately, he would not dignify "Do you happen to know what the meaning of life is?" with a response. (Yes, I did actually ask. No, he didn't think it was funny.)

Employer Fail #42: Can you at least show everyone the respect of starting on time? I don't show up late to my interviews unless I'm really suspected to be Michael or Marielle, so you shouldn't start interviews late. It's rude and insulting to presume that I have nothing better to do than wait around, even if that happens to be true.

Finally, at 10:10, or closer to 10:15, we were allowed to file in. We were filing into a gaudy, ornate, ancient-looking theater that resembled an opera house. Everything was golden, velvet, and winding, and the ceiling had exquisite, intricate patterns. At the front desk, people handed out clipboards with applications, which I turned down because I came prepared with one already filled out. Still, this didn't prevent me from having to wait in line behind those who hadn't come prepared--the way they had it structured was that you had to stand in the same queue that existed outdoors, and the indoor queue existed to give people time to fill out their applications. Not that it mattered; the application was rather short and hence the total wait was only a few minutes despite having about a dozen people in front of me, but still, a display of efficiency and competence would be nice.

Employer Fail #43: Sometimes people know how to use lines. No need to enforce something that just slows the process down. Then again, at other points, people utterly fail at using lines, so maybe this is less of a fail than an unfortunate prophylactic measure.

After coming up to the desk when it was my turn and handing in a completed application and resume, I was told to "go upstairs" and have a seat. Upstairs meant to the balcony theater seating, and that's where I took my seat and gazed upon something terrifying. On stage were a number of brightly-colored white, black, and red furniture props--couches, tables, chairs, and so on. There were also a lot of middle-aged people on stage dressed in fancy party clothes--tuxedos, cocktail dresses, and so on, also of the black, white, and red variety. A mix of disco and club music blared over the theater's speakers, and the people on stage were dancing and laughing awkwardly. Thoughts of terror ran through my mind: "They're going to make me dance, aren't they?"

Employer Fail #44: Is this an interview or a burlesque show?

Fortunately, I didn't have to dance. After a few minutes of watching the most terrifying thing this side of a Sarah Palin presidency, a secretary appeared at the other end of the balcony and started calling names. My name was first and I headed over--seven other names were called, but no people bearing said names appeared. She read them again and again, and after a while, two of the remaining seven showed up, but we were still missing five. I joked that I didn't mind waiting as long as she didn't call the cops on suspicion that I began to murder people in the theater to increase my chances of getting a job, but she just looked at me with a look of confusion and left to go retrieve the missing people. For a company that had strange people dancing up on stage, the people I initially spoke to sure lacked a sense of humor.

After failing to find the remaining five, she led the three of us down the stairs, then ran off, failed to find people once more, led us down another flight of stairs, magically found four of the five people, and then decided to forge ahead without the remaining person. However, she mysteriously revealed herself, emerging from a nearby restroom at the final second. All of this led me to wonder: how do you expect these people to work in a hotel if they can't follow simple directions such as "go upstairs and stay there until your name is called?" Hotels presumably have lots of stairs, and travel via them may be necessary, so getting lost in a considerably smaller building isn't exactly an auspicious start.

We were led down into the main theater hall and made to sit in the front row. The soul-wrenching dancing had stopped, but the music hadn't. We sat for a few seconds, and then were pulled up on stage into what was possibly the most ineffective group interview ever.

We sat in a circle, the eight applicants and three interviewers. The circle itself consisted of chairs, a couch, and weird futuristic granite chairs that looked like some three-dimensional version of what a 6-year-old might make the first time they're exposed to MS Paint. The interview proceeded as such (feel free to stop reading at any time to either laugh hysterical or off yourself at the realization that this is what employers are now using to judge candidates):

1) An interviewer would look at all the applications/resumes and then ask a question to one of the candidates. The question would be a generic question, such as, "What's the most important part of work to you?" or "Is it important to do something you enjoy?"
2) The candidate answered. A follow-up question might be asked.
3) Another interviewer would ask a different candidate a question.
4) This process was repeated until each candidate was asked a question, and perhaps a follow-up question.
5) Some questions open to the group were asked at the end.

The whole thing took about forty-five minutes. How they expected to learn anything about anyone by virtue of asking each person one or two generic questions, well, that's beyond me.

Employer Fail #44: Group interviews are one thing, but group interviews where your total exposure to each candidate involves hearing them give answers to a few generic job interview questions, well, that's just pathetic.

My interview group was the most eclectic assortment of people this side of Lost, condescending surgeons with martyr complexes notwithstanding. The cast of characters was, as follows:

1) Yours truly.
2) An adult Latino male who had worked his entire life in the airline industry as a steward, now out of a job as a result of continued fail by the airlines.
3) An African-American young adult, the same one I initially saw by the building when I first walked by. He was homeless, and offered up the best part of the interview when he responded to a question about why he wanted to work for the company by saying, "Look man, honestly, it's about the money. It's about that paycheck. Times are tough and I need some stability now, you know?" The interviewer asking the question looked displeased, but what did he expect, a homeless man to shred his dignity even further by pretending to subjugate his material desires for the lofty spiritual goal of working for a hotel? Please.
4) A middle-aged African-American woman who had worked as a line cook and pastry chef in bakeries and restaurants.
5) A mid-20s white woman who had just moved here from Phoenix, ditching a stable marketing job in the process. When an interviewer asked her why she threw away something like that in the middle of a recession, the woman responded with a nonsensical, "Well, I've always been the type of person that just needs to change it up once in a while," which drew a reproachful silence from interviewers and candidates alike.
6) Another African-American young adult with experience in retail (mostly Best Buy), who had been in the Army and took a bullet in the arm during training, getting himself an honorable discharge in the process.
7) Another Latino man, friends with #2, who had worked his entire life in the hotel industry in every capacity: janitor; concierge; bellboy; front desk; bartender; you name it.
8) A thirty-something African-American woman with a degree in accounting who currently worked as a medical secretary at a small local hospital. Why she thought working at a hotel would be any kind of upgrade is beyond me.

I tried my best to be vibrant and snarky because it seemed like the thing to do, but given that all I got to answer was, "Why are you here today?" and "What was the last time you had fun at work?" that came off as rather difficult. Seriously, this was possibly the worst interview format ever, made worse by these facts, divulged to us after the interview:

1) The company considered itself an anti-hotel chain and thus wanted to project an image and aura very different from most hotels. For this reason, they actually preferred their employees to have little or no hotel experience.
2) As a result, the interviewers stated that they wouldn't be looking at our resumes unless we were called back, meaning that the two questions we answered was all they had to go off of.
3) I was pretty much the only person in my group acting reasonably loose, probably because I didn't care at all about any of their positions. That I didn't get called back despite exhibiting "personality" beyond everyone else makes me think that their selection process isn't consistent even in their own minds.

So, two questions. That's my new interview low. Will it be topped (or bottomed, in this case)? Only time will tell.

Employer Fail #6: The Blasphemy

Once more, this particular event had more fail than malice on the part of the employer, and as a result it's difficult for me to get particularly incensed about it. Well, most of it. At one point, I applied to a Jewish organization of a nearby university, thinking at the time that they would never get back to me by virtue of not being, well, Jewish enough. Much to my surprise, the reply was relatively instant: in a few hours, I received an email back from the rabbi I had sent a resume and cover letter to.

(As an aside, I think it's befitting of this chronicle to point out that for some strange reason, I generally only get replies to my applications/inquiries if I get them within around a day of my initial email. I'm not quite sure why this would be the case. Perhaps it's because my resume is generally attractive to anyone that looks at it, but the only eyes that are in a looking mode right now are those held by those that have desperate, immediate needs at their organization. On the other hand, as I also tend to apply to things less than 24 hours after they are posted on the great wide internet, it may be because my resume is appealing at first glance, but is considerably less so relative to the immensely overqualified candidates that come pouring in after. That would be consistent with why I've yet to find employment, but without a hiring manager telling me the truth one of these days, it would be difficult to ascertain the reason, or compose a test to divine a statistically-supported theory for this phenomenon.)

In any case, the email I received was rather brief, simply stating that the organization would love to have me in for an interview, and that they would get back to me within a week about scheduling a time to meet. There was a slight issue inherent in that setup because I would be going out of town for a week that next week, so if they wanted to interview within that time period, I would have to make a gracious excuse that hopefully wouldn't end up taking me out of the running. Of course, none of this came into play, because I received no follow-up email scheduling an interview, not that week, nor the week that I was gone. Nor did I the week after returning home, nor did I after sending a friendly reminder email. And then, on a Monday night, essentially three weeks after I would be told that they would contact me "within a week," I received a phone call that the caller ID identified as the rabbi I had sent my emails to.

Employer Fail #38: No matter how you slice it, three weeks and one week are not the same. It is not that difficult to send an email, even if it's just to say there are scheduling difficulties, or that your office is busy revising the Protocols of the Elders of Zion.

I picked up the phone, and after the usual small talk at the beginning, the rabbi inquired concerning my desire to interview. After hearing that I was still willing and able, he gave me the choice of "doing it right now" or "coming in tomorrow." As it was already 9:40, I didn't fancy leaving the house on a trek of any sort, but when I said as much he expressed confusion: he had a phone interview in mind. Not wanting to be rejected once more because an interviewer didn't put in the effort to get to know me and my qualifications, I hastily averred that meeting face-to-face was definitely preferable, and that it wouldn't be a problem to come by the next day. I didn't ask for directions, just a time, and yet the rabbi launched into a veritable dissertation about getting there, telling me how to get there from every part of the metro area and then debating with himself, while I was still on the line, about whether it was easier to take one subway line, a different one, or a third one and then hop over to a bus. He decided on the third, but at this point I had already interjected meekly with, "I'm sure I can find it," "I can use Google Maps," and "I have friends to call if I get lost," so I decided to agree and bring the seminar on public transit to a close.

The interview itself was devoid of unecessary monologues. Aside from one more-awkward-than-anything moment where I walked into the building as the rabbi was returning from seeing another candidate out the door, resulting in me making eye contact with him and thanking him for holding the door for me, and then having him backtrack over to me in recognition that I was the next candidate to be interviewed, it was quite pleasant. What floored me was the distinct similarity between what I had already done for two years and what this position entailed: every question I asked only confirmed this. The office atmosphere, the schedules, the way the workload was handled, absolutely identical to what I had already been exposed to functioning within. I made sure that he knew as much. During the interview, I gleaned a couple of interesting tidbits:

1) The reason they took so long in getting back to me is that they had already found someone for the position, who then promptly accepted a spot at a seminary, leaving them in a real bind. The disconcerting thing about this is that they clearly told me that I would be interviewed, and if they had already chosen someone prior to interviewing me (regardless of the fact that he bailed on them), I would have essentially been interviewing for a position that I couldn't get. Awesome.

Employer Fail #39: No, seriously, waste my time. I don't mind. How is that an acceptable employment practice? When, say, trying to rent an apartment, does the landlord have people show up to sign a lease, only to tell them afterward that the complex is full and there are no vacancies? Why do job-seekers get treated like subhumans sometimes?

2) They presumably wanted someone to begin at the start of September, then a couple of weeks away. As such, they would have to contact me concerning a second interview pretty quickly.

As the interview drew to a close, the rabbi told me that he had no final say in the decision-making process. He would simply report his impressions of every first round candidate to the two bosses responsible for conducting the second batch of interviews, pass on the resumes and cover letters, and fade into the background. Still, as he walked me out of the building and we turned to shake hands, he said to me something akin to, "We will start calling people back soon, and you'll definitely be hearing from us."

I didn't. Oh, sure, I did about ten days later, when I received a rejection email, but I don't think that's quite what he meant. Yes, he didn't have any decision-making powers, like he stated. But why say something that can't translate into reality? Over the course of my job search, I've been lied to by company representatives, interviewers, sinister financial masterminds possibly running a fraudulent company as a tax write-off, and now, a representative of a faith. How much lower can I sink?

Employer Fail #40: Lying is bad, whether you're Richard Nixon or an HR staffer for a box company in Tustin. If you don't know something for sure, make that clear in your statement. If you can't promise something, don't. The job search is disappointing enough without being sucker-punched via a rabbi's misleading words.

With that, this chronicle has almost caught up to my life, at least in terms of the major ordeals. I'm currently embroiled in just one more opportunity, one that has proven to be a veritable cornucopia of fail, and as soon as that completes, excepting the unexpected, I'm going to have to rely on something other than my own sob stories for material.

Guest Employer Fail #1

Just so no one gets the idea that all the employers fail when dealing with me and me only, I'm going to retell a gem that happened to a girlfriend of a friend of mine. She's still in school, in her senior year, but recently purchased a car and needs a steady part-time job to help pay for it.

So she goes and starts applying everywhere. Ross. Target. Walmart. You name it. Despite the positions' meager appeal, she gets no replies. Zero, over the course of six months. That in and of itself is highly ridiculous. But, get this. At one point, she sees that the local movie theater is hiring, so she submits an application, marking that she'd do anything, including serve as a janitor, if it meant a paycheck of some sorts. She finally gets an interview, and goes to talk with a manager.

He asks her what kind of hours she's looking for, and she informs him that as a full-time student, she can obviously only make it when she doesn't have class, but she can work as much as needed on the weekends. He immediately tells her that that isn't acceptable, because they require that someone be available to work every weekday. She gets rather confused, in part because the listing stated that part-time positions were available, and in part because he's being very hostile despite her reasonable situation, and starts trying to bargain or reason with him. She asks about working full-time over the course of later shifts and weekends. No. She asks if it would be possible to get a friend to also sign on to the same job, thus splitting their hours to cover all of the shifts the manager wants covered. No. In the end she gives up and starts to pleadingly ask him to realize that she's a full-time student and that she wants to work, but just can't actually come in during the first shift every day because she has classes. He stops being hostile for a minute, and asks her about her major. Marine biology. And then he delivers the hammer: "Oh, well, you can always come back for a position with us after you graduate."

Yeah, because they have dolphins at the movie theater.

Employer Fail #5: The Idiocy

Around the same time that I was dealing with the dual fail of the staffing agency and the organization they shoveled me off to, I was also called back for an interview with an American university located abroad, albeit with its supporting staff offices still stateside. I was excited because, from the job description, the position sounded exactly like one I had already held for two years. What better way to be qualified for a job if not already having done it, right?

Unfortunately for me, the deluge of fail began soon after I applied. On the bright side, I received a reply that was almost instant by job application standards, about a couple of hours. On the not-so-bright-side, it was addressed to Marielle. Quickly running through my brain to verify that I was not, indeed, Marielle, I replied with alacrity that I was not Marielle, but that I would still like to interview if the message was intended for me and the misnomer was simply a mistake. An hour later, I received a reply stating that that was in fact the case, and that I could come in and interview even though my name was not, in fact, Marielle.

Employer Fail #33: Addressing your correspondence incorrectly. Seriously, is this how little you care?

I was also notified that I would be alerted as to the interview's time and location in the future, despite already being given an interview date. So, I waited for that, and actually waited for quite a while, as I didn't receive any details about where my interview would be or what time of the day my appointment was until just two days before.

(Personal pet peeve: I hate it when a listing tells you to apply by contacting Mr./Ms. X, and even though you email them, it ends up being a secretary that contacts you back and actually talks to you. If the secretary is going to be handling my application anyway, why not just ask me in the listing to contact the secretary? I know about half of the listings do that anyway, so why don't the other ones just realize it makes more sense and follow suit?)

When I was told where my interview would be, I was chagrined that it was at some secondary office outside of my current metro area. To get there, I would have to take a train. Not a subway-type train, a chugga-chugga-choo-choo train. The reason provided for why I would be interviewing so far away, and not in the offices where I would presumably be working? "There is a lot of noise on the premises." What I should have started my interview with: "I'm a problem solver. I see you had a problem with noise management, which is why this interview is taking place out here. Here's my first solution for you. CLOSE A DOOR."

Employer Fail #34: Doors. They are integral parts of many offices. Learn how to use them.

The whole having-to-take-a-train-to-my-interview situation created some unfortunate timing conundrums (conundra?). My interview was at 1:00. According to the train schedules, the train arrived at the station just six minutes before my interview--not enough time to make it on time, especially given that trains are often late. Unfortunately, such trains only run once an hour, and as a result I had to arrive far earlier than necessary.

Being unemployed for as long as I had been, I was used to entertaining myself through long stretches, so I simply brought a book, hoping to find a nice place to sit prior to my interview and pass the time that way. I made my way to the train station and then onto the train itself, and rode it until I arrived at my stop. Or, well, it was supposed to be a stop. Instead it was a little clearing by the side of the tracks that presumably had the title of my stop, though there weren't any signs visible that could have confirmed or denied this one way or another. I got off the train, walked through the clearing, walked through a very empty parking lot, walked alongside a road ensconced by thick woods until it curved, and finally came out to civilization, including the building where my interview would be held. I was about an hour early, as a result of the train somehow arriving ahead of schedule. If only I had known...

I decided to use my time taking a stroll down through wherever I was, hoping to find a place to maybe grab a bite and read until it was time to head out. Unfortunately, nothing in the area looked particularly appetizing or edible, and the few places where I could have grabbed something lacked sitting room. This was problematic as it had started to rain, thwarting my plan of sitting and reading on a bench somewhere. Having nowhere to go to keep dry but the one place I was supposed to be, I headed on in, went up some flights of stairs, went into the office, and introduced myself, stating my name and the fact that I had an interview at 1:00 clearly. The secretary, the same one that had earlier addressed me as Marielle, told me that the interviewer was busy and that I would have to wait, which were wasted words because I didn't exactly expect anything different. I asked if I could just sit and read until my interview, and handed her a copy of an application form that had been mailed to me, as well as my resume.

I sat and read for about 40 minutes, watching two other candidates, people about my age, begin and terminate their interviews. At 12:55, 5 minutes after the guy with a 12:30 interview time left the office, I walked up to the secretary and asked her if there was anything else they needed before my interview began, and if not, whether I could expect to go on in soon. After all, the other two candidates I had seen went in one after the other, with no delay. The secretary replied that as long as I gave her my application and resume, I just had to hang tight. 1:00 passed. So did 1:05. The interview came out of her office, asked what the hold up was, then went to make herself some coffee. On the way out, she apologized to me for some kind of delay. The secretary began to dial someone's number, got no response, and looked up a different one on her computer, and began to dial that, still to no avail. 1:10 passed. 1:15 did, and the interviewer came back out and struck out another conversation with me. At 1:25, she threw her hands up in the air with a facial expression that indicated "screw it" and led me into her office.

The interview began. Better late than never. Five minutes in, however, it was interrupted by a knock on her door. The secretary asked to borrow the interviewer for a second, and they talked outside for a few minutes. When the interviewer returned, she explained that there had been a mix-up, one which I had already figured out.

For some incomprehensible reason, the secretary figured that I was not, in fact, that guy with "a weird V name" and/or Marielle who had the interview at 1:00, but some guy named Michael with an interview at 1:30. She figured this in spite of the fact that I had told her upon arriving my name and interview time (neither of which were Michael) and in spite of the fact that I had handed her my application and resume, both of which had my name printed in large, clear, boldface letters. I don't know what was going through her mind. "Oh, that guy is white, so he can't possibly have a weird name! He must be a Michael!" Furthermore, whatever numbers she was dialing to get in contact with whoever was missing the interview, well, they weren't mine. Neither my cell phone nor the landline received any calls while I was at the interview. Maybe she was calling Marielle. In the end, I was made to wait over half an hour, for myself.

Employer Fail #35: Assuming that white people have names like "Michael," or whatever other train of thought that leads you to ignore my own declarations of my name and interview time and decide that I'm someone else that's interviewing later. Additionally, not putting two-and-two together when realizing that there's someone sitting there waiting for an interview, especially when you have the means to figure out their name right next to you.

In all fairness, though, I shouldn't be too mean to the secretary. She was perfectly nice, and even offered me the chance to take whatever coffee/water/donuts I wanted from the kitchen and no expense. But she did massively fail at her one job--being a secretary.

The interview itself featured a few noteworthy things. The interviewer was very different from the norm in that she seemed to be interested in me as a person, asking me about my attitudes towards higher education, why I chose the college that I did, and even the book I was reading while waiting. She wasn't exactly affable, but it was an improvement over most hiring personnel. I found out that she did not technically work for the university and nor did her secretary; they comprise a small "HR consulting" firm that basically serves as the HR department by proxy for small nonprofits that can't afford to staff those positions in-house. She did, however, tell me that the reason we couldn't interview on-site was because there was an institutional shutdown for the week, and that the offices were unfortunately closed. While a better excuse than the "it's too loud and doors confuse us!" tripe I had gotten earlier, why couldn't that have just been given as a reason to begin with?

Employer Fail #36: Why lie to me about the reasoning behind requiring me to go to a different interview location? What am I going to do, decide that I suddenly don't need a job from a place that gets locked out of its own offices occasionally?

The interview generally went pretty well, at least in my uneducated opinion. Seriously, how do you tell a good interview from a bad one? The one unfortunate thing was that, while we talked, the interviewer told me that the university was weary about hiring younger candidates (read: recent graduates) because they had done so a lot in the past, and many showed that they were incapable of doing the work satisfactorily, either due to an inability to comport themselves well around older prospects and beneficiaries, or the lack of self-discipline necessary to be productive even while working in an office without clearly-defined goals. If that went into her judgment of me by default, well, that won't make me a happy camper. But it's not like I'll ever find out.

Employer Fail #37: Prejudice against candidate groups based on past experiences. It's not my fault that sometimes people can't handle the jobs they're given. Why punish me for it?

At the interview's conclusion, she told me I would be notified by the end of the week if I were going to move on to interviewing with the department's current employees. I didn't hear back from them. Not for about three months, anyway. A few days ago, I received an email that informed me that the position had gone to another candidate.

Employer Fail #38: It takes you three months to reject me? It's not like I have the cognitive function to realize that if you didn't call when you said you would, it was pretty much over. No, actually, I was a writhing mass on my apartment floor this entire time, howling, "When will they let me know?!?!" over and over out into the starry night, waiting desperately for a response, if only to free me from my endless torment. Seriously, don't waste your energy, I know a silent rejection when I get one.

In retrospect, I don't know what I could have done differently. Not been my age? (I need the Satanic magicks used in Employer Fail #4.5 to age Miss Teen South Carolina to get a job, apparently.) Said my name and interview time more emphatically, and repeated it more times? Maybe I should have just pretended to be named Michael. Or Marielle.

Mini-Fail #3: The-My-Position-is-More-Important-than-the-Job

Unlike most of the other anecdotes posted here, this one actually took place long before I could consider myself unemployed. I was in college, and wanted a job so I could get some money to defray the costs of well, living. One fine day, I saw a listing for an open position for a supervisor of an on-campus Psychology computer lab. It sounded pretty perfect, so I printed out the application and turned it in a few hours later. The administrative assistant that I handed the form was startled at first--I had responded so fast she hadn't even been aware that the listing had already been posted. She glanced over my application and resume, told me that I was exactly what they were looking for, and stated that they would contact me soon. (Man, how many times have I heard that recently?)

If you've been paying attention, you probably have already guessed that I didn't hear back from anyone, despite assurances to the contrary. Already knowing by then that not getting a response was about as expected as a politician with a sex scandal, I put it out of mind.

Fast forward about three months, and I was heading back home for Thanksgiving with a carpool of people I didn't know to save myself the cost of buying a plane ticket. Towards the conclusion of the drive, the topic of on-campus jobs came up, and the driver began to gloat about how his job as overlord of the Psychology computer lab was excellent in that, since no one ever used it, he didn't even have to show up, but could still say that he was putting in his hours and get paid nonetheless. Another passenger raised the possibility of him getting caught, or at least being made to show up by perhaps a resentful coworker, at which point he delivered this bombshell:

"Nah, I mean, the department tried to make me hire someone. But I told them I could do it all myself, since I can, since no one ever shows up anyway. There was this one guy that applied, had a weird name, starting with V or something, and I couldn't give him the job because he was waaay more qualified than me, and they would've had no reason to keep me around if they had him. So yeah, his application disappeared."

This was, of course, pretty perturbing, even aside from the fact that this guy was apparently stupid enough to gloat without noticing that I also had a "weird name" that began with a V. Part of me wanted to reach my arms around his neck and start strangling him right then and there, but the twin realities that he was driving and that I would need him to be functioning to be able to grab a ride back down prevented me from doing so.

At least the other employers that presumably reject me for being overqualified don't make it a point to regularly tell me how awesome I would be at their job while rejecting me to my face. Not yet, anyway. There's still time.