You would think by now I would be used to this, being unemployed. By my reckoning this makes six times in the last fours years. First, after I was downsized out of my long-time agency job in 2008. And again, six months later at the next agency. Then followed nine scary months with no prospects whatsoever as we drained our savings and my 401k until out of desperation more than anything else, I took the job in Shitsville. That agency folded like a cheap card table five months after we moved there. There was the brief stint at a real estate firm before the owner decided his wife's cousin's son-in-law could do the job cheaper. He was 18. Then there was the magazine that went belly-up after two issues and finally the most recent fiasco in the fast paced, psychotic world of online social media.
I'm beginning to think my job is actually being jobless. Without any benefits of course. Every time I'm able to panhandle some freelance work, the government declares me Fully Employed! and of no need of assistance. I've lost track of how many jobs I've applied for online. It has to be over a thousand by now. I stopped keeping count somewhere back in the 700's and that was in 2010. My experience has been that every time you fill one out and hit "send" it just goes down the memory hole. In four years I had never received a reply to a job application.
Until last week.
I had found a job posting online for a cable channel. I can't say which one because the industry is small and people talk. Suffice it to say it's core demographic is shut-ins with cats. I had filled out the online application but didn't expect anything to come of it since nothing had come of any in the past. So imagine my surprise when I was contacted a few days later and told the V.P. wanted to meet with me. The interview was set up for yesterday.
I was so thrilled just to get an interview out of the deal I didn't really even care that it was for a channel I wouldn't be caught dead watching. Somehow or other, if it came to that, I would make it work. Once again, I was desperate.
So yesterday I schlepped to the San Fernando Valley. If anything, the logistics of getting the job would be worse than the last one, but at that point I figured we'd worry about that later, if the time came.
Initially I met with the H.R, director, a squat little man. He ushered me into his office and asked if it was OK if he asked some questions and noted the answers. What was I going to say, "No"? The first question was... "Name your three worst personnel conflicts at past jobs."
Are you fucking kidding? Who the hell would answer that? "Well, there was that one time when I beat my boss senseless with a coffee mug..." I've had my share of office conflicts, but none I was going to share with this little Oompa Loompa. I demurred and said none came to mind. He continued... "We'll, if you did have a personal conflict in the office, what steps would you take to prevent it from escalating into anything violent?"
Was there some history of violence at the company which I should know about?
Mercifully, the V.P. I was to meet with buzzed him and said she was ready for me.
Jessica was her name. She was a big girl with shoulder length dirty hair. She was wearing a periwinkle sweater with food stains on it and a khaki skirt that hadn't seen an iron in years. Here office looked like the home of a hoarder. She was, I thought, the prototypical viewer of her network. We exchanged some pleasantries and I scanned her office to get a sense of who she was. Usually, in an interview with a creative director, I check the book case to get a sense of their aesthetic but Jessica's bookshelves were full of books on food. Specifically, dessert.
"30 Minute Cakes."
"30 Minute Pies."
"Rachel Ray Desserts."
"Microwave Baking."
Clearly, Jessica had a sweet tooth and time management issues.
She started to leaf through my portfolio, casually, thoughtlessly, as if it was a three month old issue of People in a doctor's office. After about a dozen pages she looked at me and said...
"Your work is very clever and conceptual. We don't do that here."
And that was the high point of the interview.
It was a long, sad, angry drive home. I'm just getting too old for this shit.
