Dear Reader:
The good news is that when I awoke this morning and stumbled into the bathroom to relieve myself, I didn’t piss any blood. Not that I was really expecting any, its just that given my current woes---unemployment, impoverishment, insolvency, and the worry that Barack is seriously considering bringing a Labradoodle into The White House, it would be just one more of a million possible things that have gone recently awry. I am not complaining mind you, its just that given recent events, I count myself lucky when I can exit the car, and go to the front door of the house without being hit by a falling meteorite.
On a serious note, “…without being hit by a falling ex-employee” is perhaps more like it. It seems like American companies are laying off and discarding employees in droves. See http://www.bls.gov/news.release/empsit.nr0.htm. The bad news is that last count, there were more than 11.1 million Americans who were unemployed---and that’s not counting the millions who have gotten discouraged from even looking for work and just said “screw it! The number seems to growing exponentially, with every passing day. In the past month or so, Caterpillar, Microsoft, Bank of America, Sony, and Boeing have all added themselves to an already long and frightening list of companies who have laid off employees like there's no tomorrow. http://www.forbes.com/2008/11/17/layoff-tracker-unemployement-lead-cx_kk_1118tracker.html. This whole situation is getting to be seriously scary. At this rate, I am beginning to wonder if anyone in America will still be working a couple of months rom now.
The worse news ---at least for me -----is that I still am one of the 11.1 million great unwashed.
THE “O” WORD
I got a phone call early this morning from the Acme Products Company. (That's not really their name, reader. But in order to protect them from ridicule and the millions of cards, letters, and e-mails with which I KNOW that you would bombard them I used their real name, I figure I'd better give them an alias. It's just the considerate thing to do.)
It was a little unnerving to receive an incoming cell phone call at exactly 9:11 a.m. I’m not really superstitious or anything, its just that I figure that nothing good can come out of phone call that comes at exactly that time of day. (It’s almost like looking upon the scene of a drunken sailor, one who has been at sea for six months, both arms draped around two 22 year old morally challenged blondes, hundred dollar bills hanging out of his pocket, and its only 8:00p.m. You know that nothing ‘good’ can come out of that situation. Nothing! But I digress…)
“Good morning, Will, this is Margaret Shirkman at Acme Products. We were delighted to have you come in yesterday and spend the day interviewing and getting to know us.”
“ Ms. Shirkman, it was my pleasure”, I said.
“Will, everyone that you interviewed on yesterday was very impressed. You have a great personality, your aptitude test scores were off the charts, you have great skills, a great resume, a really good education, and you are probably the most articulate person that we’ve interviewed in the entire history of Acme Products. Quite frankly Will, the president of the Acme, Mr. Crankly said that he wishes that his own sons were more like you.”
At this point, dear reader, my chest was sticking out with pride and there was a bright smile on my face that would have lit up the Atlanta night, had it not been just after nine o’clock in the morning. I figured that finally(!) here was one company who had the good sense to recognize great talent and that I was the best executive that they could hire. I had finally won the "job lotto" in this god awful recession.... and that Margaret Shirkman was going to offer me the job that I had been longing for…for months. The job drought was over!!!
“Ms. Shirkman, I can start work tomorrow morning...this afternoon, if you'd prefer. Should I come in a few minutes early in order to complete all of the HR forms?”
“Will, there is a problem”, she said.
“Problem? “But I thought you just said that…”
“Will, we discussed it. Yesterday. After you left.”
“ Do you want me to take less money? I've learned to live on very little money this last year". In
fact, I can live on practically nothing.
“No, Will, that’s not the problem. We can afford to pay you.”
“Do you want me to move to corporate headquarters in Boise? Just say the word. I hear that
there’s great trout fishing in Idaho.”
“No, Will, that’s not the problem. The problem is that you’re over- qualified. You’ve got too much education, too much experience.”
“Quite frankly, Will, you’re very smart and you're clearly too good for Acme Products.”
“But, Ms. Shirkman…”
I tried to get Margaret Shirkman to change her mind by telling her that I wasn’t nearly as qualified or as good as I appeared and that I just happened to ‘interview’ well---sorta like those underachieving kids in school who just happened to ‘test’ well----- and that I was really quite mediocre when you got right down to it.
Margaret Shirkman wasn’t buying it. I guess that my talent and vast experience just seeped through my pores and despite my best efforts to cover it up, had given me away.
“No, Will, you’re good. Real Good. We’ve discussed it. Mr. Crankly has a sixth sense about these kind of things. He knows a real smart person when he sees one.
I wanted to say, "Ms. Shirkman, I’ve been unemployed for what seems like an eternity and I really need this job and I’m sure that when all is said is done you will really find me to really need some room for improvement. I can really come up lacking, if you’ll just give me a chance."
That's what I wanted to say. I didn't, of course, but before, I could say anything, she cut me off.
“Will, I heard that Stew's Used Car Emporium is hiring and quite frankly, they have a better pension plan than we do. More holidays too. Call Stew. Their number is in the book. Good luck in your future career endeavors.” The next thing that I heard was a dial tone. Margaret Shirkman was gone from the phone.
I’ve heard the “O” word before… too many times. Overqualified! Quite frankly, reader, I thought we’d gotten past such epithets in this country. It’s a good thing that Margaret Shirkman had been on the phone when she was miles away and talking on the phone . I betcha she wouldn’t have said the "O" word to my face, dammit! There was a time in this country where just the mention of the "O" word to the wrong person would get the person uttering the word a serious thrashing---- or at the very least a real good cussing out.
That's what I felt like doing ---calling her back and giving her a cussing her out. But I didn't because I guess that Ms. Shrikman was only doing what she was told to do. She was just a pawn in this whole thing. But it is frustrating to be constantly told that you're overqualified...especially when you're starving to death. It’s like telling Hallie Berry that you don’t want to date her because she’s too beautiful. Or that you don’t want to be Bill Gates’ friend because he has too much money. Overqualified. The very nerve…
After the phone call and a couple of hours of fuming, I went back to the business of finding gainful employment, secretly wishing that Margaret Shirkman and her friends at the Acme would be hit by that falling meteorite that I, so far have eluded, and looked up the telephone number of Stew's Used Car Emporium.
Reader, I gotta sign off again. There's another wolf at the door. Looks like he's brought a couple of friends.
Overqualified but starving in Atlanta, USA,
JustPlainWill
The good news is that when I awoke this morning and stumbled into the bathroom to relieve myself, I didn’t piss any blood. Not that I was really expecting any, its just that given my current woes---unemployment, impoverishment, insolvency, and the worry that Barack is seriously considering bringing a Labradoodle into The White House, it would be just one more of a million possible things that have gone recently awry. I am not complaining mind you, its just that given recent events, I count myself lucky when I can exit the car, and go to the front door of the house without being hit by a falling meteorite.
On a serious note, “…without being hit by a falling ex-employee” is perhaps more like it. It seems like American companies are laying off and discarding employees in droves. See http://www.bls.gov/news.release/empsit.nr0.htm. The bad news is that last count, there were more than 11.1 million Americans who were unemployed---and that’s not counting the millions who have gotten discouraged from even looking for work and just said “screw it! The number seems to growing exponentially, with every passing day. In the past month or so, Caterpillar, Microsoft, Bank of America, Sony, and Boeing have all added themselves to an already long and frightening list of companies who have laid off employees like there's no tomorrow. http://www.forbes.com/2008/11/17/layoff-tracker-unemployement-lead-cx_kk_1118tracker.html. This whole situation is getting to be seriously scary. At this rate, I am beginning to wonder if anyone in America will still be working a couple of months rom now.
The worse news ---at least for me -----is that I still am one of the 11.1 million great unwashed.
THE “O” WORD
I got a phone call early this morning from the Acme Products Company. (That's not really their name, reader. But in order to protect them from ridicule and the millions of cards, letters, and e-mails with which I KNOW that you would bombard them I used their real name, I figure I'd better give them an alias. It's just the considerate thing to do.)
It was a little unnerving to receive an incoming cell phone call at exactly 9:11 a.m. I’m not really superstitious or anything, its just that I figure that nothing good can come out of phone call that comes at exactly that time of day. (It’s almost like looking upon the scene of a drunken sailor, one who has been at sea for six months, both arms draped around two 22 year old morally challenged blondes, hundred dollar bills hanging out of his pocket, and its only 8:00p.m. You know that nothing ‘good’ can come out of that situation. Nothing! But I digress…)
“Good morning, Will, this is Margaret Shirkman at Acme Products. We were delighted to have you come in yesterday and spend the day interviewing and getting to know us.”
“ Ms. Shirkman, it was my pleasure”, I said.
“Will, everyone that you interviewed on yesterday was very impressed. You have a great personality, your aptitude test scores were off the charts, you have great skills, a great resume, a really good education, and you are probably the most articulate person that we’ve interviewed in the entire history of Acme Products. Quite frankly Will, the president of the Acme, Mr. Crankly said that he wishes that his own sons were more like you.”
At this point, dear reader, my chest was sticking out with pride and there was a bright smile on my face that would have lit up the Atlanta night, had it not been just after nine o’clock in the morning. I figured that finally(!) here was one company who had the good sense to recognize great talent and that I was the best executive that they could hire. I had finally won the "job lotto" in this god awful recession.... and that Margaret Shirkman was going to offer me the job that I had been longing for…for months. The job drought was over!!!
“Ms. Shirkman, I can start work tomorrow morning...this afternoon, if you'd prefer. Should I come in a few minutes early in order to complete all of the HR forms?”
“Will, there is a problem”, she said.
“Problem? “But I thought you just said that…”
“Will, we discussed it. Yesterday. After you left.”
“ Do you want me to take less money? I've learned to live on very little money this last year". In
fact, I can live on practically nothing.
“No, Will, that’s not the problem. We can afford to pay you.”
“Do you want me to move to corporate headquarters in Boise? Just say the word. I hear that
there’s great trout fishing in Idaho.”
“No, Will, that’s not the problem. The problem is that you’re over- qualified. You’ve got too much education, too much experience.”
“Quite frankly, Will, you’re very smart and you're clearly too good for Acme Products.”
“But, Ms. Shirkman…”
I tried to get Margaret Shirkman to change her mind by telling her that I wasn’t nearly as qualified or as good as I appeared and that I just happened to ‘interview’ well---sorta like those underachieving kids in school who just happened to ‘test’ well----- and that I was really quite mediocre when you got right down to it.
Margaret Shirkman wasn’t buying it. I guess that my talent and vast experience just seeped through my pores and despite my best efforts to cover it up, had given me away.
“No, Will, you’re good. Real Good. We’ve discussed it. Mr. Crankly has a sixth sense about these kind of things. He knows a real smart person when he sees one.
I wanted to say, "Ms. Shirkman, I’ve been unemployed for what seems like an eternity and I really need this job and I’m sure that when all is said is done you will really find me to really need some room for improvement. I can really come up lacking, if you’ll just give me a chance."
That's what I wanted to say. I didn't, of course, but before, I could say anything, she cut me off.
“Will, I heard that Stew's Used Car Emporium is hiring and quite frankly, they have a better pension plan than we do. More holidays too. Call Stew. Their number is in the book. Good luck in your future career endeavors.” The next thing that I heard was a dial tone. Margaret Shirkman was gone from the phone.
I’ve heard the “O” word before… too many times. Overqualified! Quite frankly, reader, I thought we’d gotten past such epithets in this country. It’s a good thing that Margaret Shirkman had been on the phone when she was miles away and talking on the phone . I betcha she wouldn’t have said the "O" word to my face, dammit! There was a time in this country where just the mention of the "O" word to the wrong person would get the person uttering the word a serious thrashing---- or at the very least a real good cussing out.
That's what I felt like doing ---calling her back and giving her a cussing her out. But I didn't because I guess that Ms. Shrikman was only doing what she was told to do. She was just a pawn in this whole thing. But it is frustrating to be constantly told that you're overqualified...especially when you're starving to death. It’s like telling Hallie Berry that you don’t want to date her because she’s too beautiful. Or that you don’t want to be Bill Gates’ friend because he has too much money. Overqualified. The very nerve…
After the phone call and a couple of hours of fuming, I went back to the business of finding gainful employment, secretly wishing that Margaret Shirkman and her friends at the Acme would be hit by that falling meteorite that I, so far have eluded, and looked up the telephone number of Stew's Used Car Emporium.
Reader, I gotta sign off again. There's another wolf at the door. Looks like he's brought a couple of friends.
Overqualified but starving in Atlanta, USA,
JustPlainWill
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