I almost got a
job-offer this week. But to be honest, I don’t think this is going to happen
anymore. Not just this time, but in general.
I got a call during
late morning hours from an unknown number. A young female voice, all cheerful
and sweet told me her name, the name of some job-agency, she was calling from
and that she had a job to offer. If it was comfortable for me to talk now, was
her question. She spoke so quickly, I never got her name and the agency I could
only guess, because I know the names of some. I wonder if these girls get
trained to sound energetic on the phone. I said sure, so she went on to tell me
about a company in this city, which was looking for a purchaser and that they
want someone with this experience and those skills, and the person would have
to do this and that and all the usual. Little Ms Cheerful obviously read this
from somewhere out loud. Then she also said the company name and asked me, if I
am currently working. I said, that I am self employed and she should have that
on my CV. She confirmed, asked if this was interesting for me and whether to
send my CV and if I had a car and if I still lived in the same place – as she kept
going, she seemed to remember more and more things she needed to ask, or maybe
she read them from somewhere as well. After I “yesed” everything like a robot,
there was a little gap in time to take a breath, so I asked where the company
was located. She didn’t have any information, just knew the city. I asked what
this company produced, but she didn’t know that either just said the name
indicated something in the medical field. I guessed that myself. Then I asked
if it was a new or a veteran company and how big it was. She didn’t have this
information either, but didn’t think it was a start-up. The sweetness in her
voice had been fading and was now completely replaced by an impatient
I-don’t-give-a-damn-just–stop-asking-so-many-questions-nuisense-I–have-a-job-to-do-tone.
Last she wanted to know my salary expectations. I gave it to her. The
conversation lasted for less than three minutes, not even enough for me to get
my mind set on the subject. My brain needs some time to load stuff in order to
use it efficiently; it’s not the most modern version.
These girls – actually
they are probably young women, maybe even mothers already – get paid for
placing somebody, not for giving accurate information to potential candidates.
Time is critical, not because it really matters, but because the competition
between the job agencies is really tough. If you are looking for a job, you send
your CV to as many agencies as possible, because you want maximum exposure.
Companies looking to fill a position do the same. So now, what happens is that
all agencies send the same CVs to the company looking to hire, but only the
first one gets the commission for the person who is eventually hired. If they
are not the first to send it, they lose it. It doesn’t matter if they choose
only the best qualified candidates or if their selection system is precise and sophisticated
or if they really know who they are sending. Whoever matches certain codes gets
send. There is no quality in this business, there is only time. It’s like a
gambling game or something. And if you’re looking for a job, your CV is just a
card in the game. A card with symbols that need to match. You’re no person,
you’re not even a face or a name. You are merchandise, like a bunch of smelly
fish on the fish market before sunrise, still beating your tail against the
other fish while the dealers are throwing a quick glance at you as their eyes
are roaming through the merchandise to see if you are the type they want. If
you are, they quickly offer a price, before some other buyer snatches you away.
And if not, they move on to the next. Slaves used to be traded this way as
well. At least at the time each slave had his own price. In this market the
price is the same per placement.
Did I get a little
carried way here? I don’t know. All I know is, I am glad that I am not really
looking for a job. After all, I am working and the money I make keeps me going.
The reason I always agree to have my card played in the game is, that I think one
should keep the options open. Nobody can promise me, that what I do today will
last. Anything can happen, companies I work with today can go out off business
tomorrow, their demands and priorities may change, clients may find a better
solution or personal changes may bring someone into the picture, who I just
can’t get warm with.
The company name
sounded familiar, I am sure I’ve been there before. How many companies in the
medical field are there in this city? I have been to a few and know the rest.
In the late
afternoon I get another phone call from an unknown number. A male voice
introduces himself and his company. Again, I don’t get his name and can only
guess the company name, because he is on speaker and sounds far away and kind
of echoy. Then he says that there is someone with him, a name I do not get and
her position I can only hope to guess right. He says they got my CV and they
would like to ask me a few questions. “On the phone?” I wonder out loud. He says
they just want to clear a few basic points to see whether to invite me to a proper
interview and if I had a few minutes, was his question. Well, I actually have
my mouth full (just managed to swallow the last bit before answering), because
I was tasting the potato-puree, that is cooking on the stove next to the vegetables
and they all need to be taken off the gas, because they are ready and therefore
I am just about to set the table, so me and my daughter can sit down and have a
meal together, which happens maybe once a week.
“Sure, no problem”.
I turn off the gas, leave my somewhat perplexed daughter alone in the kitchen
and go into the living room. What is he going to ask? Shoots through my head. I
am not a spontaneous person; information in my brain is not always available to
my tongue, especially if it has not been called up for a while. Ask me what
year I worked at a certain company and I need to count back year by year. The guy,
who is obviously the purchasing manager of the company goes on to tell me the
company is looking for someone with this experience and those skills, and the
person would have to do this and that and all the usual and would be working as
part of a team and reporting to him, the purchasing manager. Then he asks how
this sounds to me. If this didn’t sound o.k. to me and I didn’t think I was
suiting, he wouldn’t be on the phone with me right now. I am preparing myself for more serious
questions.
“Fine, I’ve done
all that.” He tells me work hours are from seven to four. They would be a bit
flexible with this, but also definitely expect extra hours on a daily basis. In
other words, if you come ten minutes after seven, no one will scream at you,
yet, for being late, but if you expect to leave fifty minutes after four, don’t
even bother considering the job, it’s too early. Actually, it doesn’t matter
when you intend to leave, it’s always too early. The thought of having to get
up early enough to be at work at seven, makes me shiver. I usually don’t get up
till eight and then I take it easy. Getting out off bed quickly, when it is
still dark outside sounds like an impossible mission to me at the moment,
although I’ve done it for years. I don’t mind working late; I sit in front of the
computer till ten o’clock or more. But that’s at home.
“I have no problems
with work hours; I am flexible and can do extra”. He is delighted and wants to
know, if I live in this city and if I have a car. I feel a little bored with this
conversation and wonder, if they spoke with little Ms Cheerful-but-indifferent
from the agency at all.
“Yes and yes”. He
is about to finish the conversation, while I am still waiting for the real
questions to start. Then the female takes the word and confirms my guess about
her being the human resources manager by asking my salary expectation. “Didn’t
the agency tell you?” I can’t stop myself this time. The buyer of human resources
says that she probably did, but she hasn’t had time to check or something like
that. That’s strange. If it is important enough to be one of the basic criteria,
that determine whether I get invited for an interview, wouldn’t she have
checked before calling me? No, I guess she had no time to do that and thought
she could leave it for the phone. The symbols on my game-card match, therefore
she was going to call me anyway. Or maybe she wants to check if I tell her the
same amount I told the agency-girl – sorry, -woman.
I do tell her the
same salary expectations. She goes on to tell me that I would have to be able
to start immediately, but because I am self employed this wouldn’t be a
problem, or would it? And about wanting to invite me for an interview a.s.a.p.,
tomorrow, but she needs to see in the morning, and she will call and for now
she needs to know, if I can make it tomorrow. I have no appointments scheduled
for tomorrow, so there should be no time limitations. There is, however, a lot
of work on my desk that I am planning to take care of and complete. Among
others, I am scheduled to submit one of the projects I am working on by the day
after tomorrow. Also, I absolutely need to clean the house, because I haven’t
had time for anything besides work in the past two weeks, so the place looks
accordingly. I have been waiting for these few free hours, to vacuum and wash
the floors and bathrooms and I knew I would have them tomorrow. All this I need
to finish before the evening, because I am going to a theater show, which is really
a special event.
“I have no time
limitations tomorrow, whenever you want”.
I say what they
want to hear, because I’m afraid, if I don’t adapt to their time schedule they
may not invite me at all. But to be honest, I am in no mood for a job-interview,
while I have all these things planned. And even if they offered me the job,
would I even consider taking it? I would need to get up at six o’clock every
morning. I would give up the luxury of organizing most of my work hours myself
and the ability to decide how much work I want to and can do - or how much I
need to do, in order to make enough money. Now, when I get a migraine I can just
switch off for a while until I am functional again. I can do my shopping when
the supermarket is empty, I can be there for my family, when they need me and
postpone my work to when they’re not around. I can spontaneously take a day off
for cleaning or to go to the doctor or cook something special and then work at
night, if necessary. Even if they agree to pay, what I asked for, it would
still be less than I make at average as a freelancer. If I get a conventional
job, I would have pre-organized work hours and home hours. I general, things
would be more organized. I would do my shopping and cleaning and cooking regularly,
when everybody else does and I would spend the time that is left with my family.
No more letting the dishes pile up in the sink till there are none left to eat
from and no more eating Cornflakes, because it’s the only thing left till I
take the time to cook again. All this would be part of a routine. No more
dropping everything and putting it off to later, because my daughter needs to
talk. With the job they may or may not offer me I would know exactly how much
money I get each month. It would pay less than I make on my own, but it would
be stable. No more bad months and good months and no more living in constant
fear of there not being enough income in the next month.
The next morning I
wake up with the thought that this human assets buyer, whose name I didn’t
catch, is going to call and tell me when she wants me. I will need to prepare
myself properly, go over my CV, over possible questions and eloquent answers,
remember dates, responsibilities, tasks I have done, revive concepts, tactics
and strategies in my head and formulate all kinds of intelligent ideas, that
make a professional impression on people like this. I need to choose suiting clothes
that make me look serious, not homely and simple, but also not extravagant or
flashy. I need to appear assertive and self-confident, on the other hand not overconfident
but definitely also not insecure. Last night I had checked their web-site and
realized that indeed I had been there for a job interview before. It was a
slightly different job, specialized in a certain field, which I had little
experience in. I don’t know, if this was the reason they didn’t offer me the
job, but I do remember that they offered a salary that was three quarters the
amount I expect. I would give it a chance again, doesn’t hurt to go to an
interview. This time they want a general buyer. That’s me. I can find anything
anywhere in the world and I can negotiate prices and conditions with anyone
while sticking to targets and deadlines. I can write and read and understand
reports, as well as plan stock and schedule logistics. I can … well, do anything
a good purchaser needs to and I’m successful. But why did I agree to meet them
today? It totally plays havoc with all my plans and will take effect even on
the schedule for next week. And there’s no way I will be able to submit my
project in time. Now, which excuse can I give to postpone to Monday?
The woman calls
later than I expected, as I am far into my days scheduled activities and things
are progressing smoothly. I apologize as soon as she begins to talk about the
time for the interview. I make up some story about having to meet some
important person from one of the overseas companies, I work with. She insists
that I try. I insist that it’s not the kind of person I can turn down (I meant
myself). Her voice sounds like that of a freshly divorced woman, who just had
her first one-nighter and didn’t know it, so she calls the next day only to be
told that he didn’t really mean what he said the night before, but she’s a nice
lady and he’ll keep her number. And she
reacts the same way as well. “Ahhh, yes. I understand” Her voice is doing its
best not to reveal that she is in a pique” Well, we can’t wait, by Monday the
job may well be taken.” How dare I turn
her down?! How dare I waste her time?!
She says she will
let me know, but by the time I hang up I know that I will not hear from this
workforce driver again. I have moved from being a fish in the fish-market to a
dog in a dog-race, being tempted into wanting to win. Again, it doesn’t matter
how professional I am, how qualified, how experienced, how suiting I may be for
this job. It’s just about being first, or about pleasing the potential
employer. I don’t blame her, she probably really has no time and there are more
than enough dogs to choose from. All she
needs to do is put them all under pressure and make them try to sell themselves
as best as they can. They will come racing for the job, as if their lives
depended on it. They will run and jump and kick and bark, because their
livelihood does depend on it. They will be assertive and serious and determined
and impress and pretend and bluff and fake just to please, because they have no
choice. It’s the only way to win the race for a job.
It’s not going to
happen for me. I don’t want it enough. It is not even the freedom I have as a self-employed
person, because I don’t. I work all the time, no holidays, no closing hours, no
going home and leaving the job at the office. My home is my office and my office
is my home. I do what I need to, to close deals or to get the job done or I do
what I am told. I have deadlines and never know if the money flow is going to
last and for how long. But there is a price to my work and this price actually
has a value. Each hour has a value. Whatever I do pays, and I can decide for
myself whether I need it or not. I can decide for myself what is worth my time
and what isn’t.
I feel human.
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