The reasons for my never-employment? Oh, I’ve got my ideas, and they’re many and if we explore them too deeply I’ll turn testy and nasty. And others have their own opinions—an able critic of my shortcomings once told me, during a generous hour-long exploration of my flaws, that, among other things, I’d need to get a pair of glasses to be taken seriously by interviewers. I joke about that piece of advice often, but I’ve yet to follow it, and yet to find a job, so who knows? Fake corrective lenses could be what I’m missing. Additionally, when I tried to end that conversation on an optimistic note, you know, digging for a bit of reassurance that everything would work out in the end, by saying, “Well, I can’t imagine I’ll die 60 years from now having never had a job” my Able Critic replied, “Well, don’t be so sure.” There is something that needs to be added here: this was one of my ecclesiastical authorities, one of the people in charge of the messages of faith and hope that fill each of my Sundays. So, yes, that really filled my heart with confidence.
As I said, I don’t really thrill in the examination of my non-success, but my journey to where I am (or perhaps I should say “where I am not”) is not without its anecdotes that strike me as a little amusing. Consider the following, for example:
Once, during an interview with a New York City law firm (one no more or less prestigious than the rest of the sort that come to NYU to interview as many students as possible in a day during a week of these interview-filled days) I found myself engaged in the usual interview small-talk that precedes the meat and potatoes discussion of interests, qualifications, strengths, weaknesses, and etceteras with a partner from the firm. She had a piece of paper in front of her for making the occasional note about where I was from or what classes I had taken and in the middle of our small-talking she writes across this sheet of paper, in extremely legible handwriting not intended for me to read but in no way kept from my sight:
“Not Smart. No Way. Strong No.”
While it’s not on my resume, but something I’m able to do is read things, even when they’re written upside down and these six words smashed into my interview confidence and train of thought like a wrecking ball into a skyscraper of sugar cubes. I proceeded as if nothing nasty had been written about me right in front of me and we were done before too long. We exchanged a firm good-bye handshake with a smile full of eye contact and I got away from there as fast as I could.
I spent my first hours following the interview reeling from having been called Not Smart and a Strong No and it’s a blow and it leaves me feeling pretty small, but then my reels change to focus on the normalcy of the situation. Nothing in that interview, in our conversation, or in our pleasantries seemed different at all from any of the many, many interviews I had had before it that week . . . had I left the same impression on each interviewer? Did I come across as extremely unemployable to every person I sat down across from? It was something to lose pounds of thought over, believe me, particularly after the week spent interviewing with firms from sun up to sun down didn’t produce a single invitation for a second interview.
Of course, long after the initial shock, panic, and worries, the perfect response comes to me. What I should have done, instead of sticking it out with the interview, was interrupt whatever question she was asking me to say: “I might not seem as smart as other candidates that you have interviewed, but one thing I am is not afraid to stand up to a partner from a major firm and tell them that I think their behavior is out of line and inappropriate. Now, if you think someone with that kind of character and courage might be of value, let’s talk. Otherwise, I bid you good day.”
Yes, that would be neat and champion for a day of me, but it is not what I said and I remain without job earned by qualifications or gall. But humbling experiences like that one, and loads more like it, they just make me tougher and give me more stories to tell. And while I’m off to no great start with my days as a worker, I remain confident that someday I will retire from some sort of noble career and, after I’ve been toasted by all my admiring coworkers and colleagues, I’ll stand and thank them for their kind words and generous donations in my name and then regale them with many an incredible tale of rejection and insult heaped upon me by the many that passed on an opportunity to have someone so eminently employable as myself join them at their law firm, consulting agency, bank, comic book company, record label, television studio, or off-shore gambling operation.
Or, as my Able Critic implied, I may just die having never had a proper job. I suppose that’s a pretty real possibility.
(Editor's note: I would hire Brigham for his breath holding skills alone. Take note: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5_lsFyRh5Aw. For more on Brigham, check out his blog at www.briggie.blogspot.com.)
