Thursday, June 2, 2011
Anyone who has looked for a job before can tell you that looking is a full time job itself. The last time I looked for a job was before all the applications were online. Not to sound like an old guy, but I miss the good old days. Here’s the problem, I have a resume (5 to be exact, professional, acting, serving, writing, teaching), these stupid places I’m applying to want you to send in a resume and fill out their application online.
Do you know what they want from you in their online application? They want the exact same crap that is on your resume. So you have to sit in an astonishingly good looking chain coffee shop and fill out their answers for like 45 minutes, knowing that they have the answers they want in the attached file named, “Resume.” The truth is, I care about your job enough for 15 minutes of online work, not 45 minutes.
The other maddening thing is that for a lot of jobs I feel pretty well qualified, and feel like I would do well, however, in such a big place, there is also a person applying who would be absolutely perfect for the position. So far, I can’t beat that person.
I’m not applying for things out of my league, either. The other day I applied for 5 jobs online.
-Dog Walker. Sounds awesome. Qualifications seem to be, don’t hate dogs, and be reliable. I probably won’t hear back.
-Substitute teacher. I’ve done that before!
-Entertainment writer for a website. I already write about a struggling actor everyday, imagine what I could do with a successful one.
-Event coordinator. Facebook events count, right?
I also saw a listing for a retail job nearby. I left the Beautiful Starbucks and walked in to the thrift/vintage store. I love thrift stores, they’re where I get most of my clothes.
The person handed me an application, which was surprisingly short.
Then, I got to the question, “Name 4 Fashion Labels of the top of your head.”
I wrote down, Faded Glory, Best Choice…then I texted Michelle for answers.
Today, I responded to one of their messages.
“Hey guys, I’m booking for Entourage. We’re looking for hot, attractive guys. Must be caucasian upper 20s to 40s and have a black suit. Again, must be hot.”
I know I’m not hot, especially as I sat in the Beautiful Starbucks, but usually they’re asking for something like an Asian midget who can ride a unicycle. I had to give it a shot. I called in and on the third try actually got through.
Woman: First 5 (of my social security number).
Jeff: 89376 (not real, but I gave her my real ones).
Woman (after looking up my profile): Yeah, we’ll have to pass.
So all of that turned into more of a rant than I was expecting. Darn you emotions bubbling up to the surface.
The good news is that I’m at my aunt and uncle’s house in Orange County. My uncle hired me to paint the window trim on the house. Income. Also, the thing I filmed recently as a talk show host premiered at an art showing last night at UC-Irvine. It’s nearby here so I went. It was strange to stand next to a life size version of myself.