Phase 10: "No One Expects The Spanish Inquisition!" or Why does applying for a job make you feel like a criminal?

     Sitting here on Easter Sunday morning, in the quiet, trying to be thankful that, while unemployed, I am relatively healthy, still living in our home, and have a good chance of being employed, sometime in the future, I have been reflecting on the process of applying for a job, and have been wondering why, this process makes one feel like a criminal.
     As I was thinking about this I was also thinking about Monty Python, the old British comedy show that, through their well written skits, shed so much humor on many of the silly things we worry about in our day to day life. Then, quite suddenly, the connection smacked me in the mental forehead like a large mackerel swung by an armored knight from Monty Python...

"No one expects the Spanish Inquisition!!!"

    The hunt for a job these days can take two paths, electronic or physical. Which ever path you take to start your hunt, at some point you have to get cleaned up, and actually go to a potential employer, sit down at a desk, get out a pen and begin the process of filling out an application of some sort.
    This process is excruciating! For starters, think about the last time you had to write with a pen... not only write... but remember everything about your work history - in many cases going all the way back to your high school days. The process takes almost an hour and must be repeated over and over and over again, every time you apply. Painful, in oh so many ways.

"NOBODY expects the Spanish Inquisition! Amongst our weaponry are such diverse elements as: fear, surprise, ruthless efficiency, an almost fanatical devotion to the Pope, and nice red uniforms..."

     Yes, that's it! Fear, surprise, ruthless efficiency! For those of you who have not suffered this indignity in a while, I challenge you to go out and try it. Gather yourself, and go! First, scour the help-wanted ads. Find a job that seems to fit your skills. Re-write your resume to match said job. Get in your car. Fight traffic.  Get lost and finally arrive with moments to spare.
     I do al the above and walk up to the gates of the Inquisitor's castle to go in. No, it's not that easy. The door is electronically locked to keep out 'the bad people'. I push the button... "Hello. This is XYZ Incorporated. Please state your reason for being here."
     As I wait, I notice the ever blinking eye of the camera up high in the corner - where the riff-raff can't reach it - I count four blinks before the lock clicks.
     "Come in and go the counter on your right." I enter the building. I step to the counter, looking first to see if there is a line of tape on the floor reminding me to keep my distance, thankfully there is not, but it feels like there should be. I stand there, waiting, waiting. Finally the receptionist looks up at me.
"Hello, I'm here to apply for the ABC position."... And now it begins.
     The look of near-disgust,  in some cases even revulsion, from the 'Inqusitors Receptionist', like a leper had suddenly appeared in front of her desk. She rummages around her desk - clearly annoyed that I had interrupted her game of computer solitaire (that you can clearly see on the screen!) - and she hands me what appears to be a Magna-Carta-sized stack of papers... "You can go OVER THERE and fill these out." In other words.... 'Be gone!'

"Fear, surprise and most ruthless --- Oooooh! Now, Cardinal -- the rack!"

    So, I sit there staring at 'the forms'. Which after the typical contact information, they go into the 'Employment History' section... Most recent job...(blah), salary at start (small), salary at end (a bit bigger),  reason for leaving..... Hmmm. Here is where it starts.... I can see the 'Inquisitors' Assistant (receptionist) watching me like a dragon, her eyes just visible over the top of the counter...she glances at me, then back at her solitaire screen. How honest does one be when answering this question...
     Given the fact that you KNOW the new Inquisitors in the HR department will check it out, do you say something simple like, 'I was downsized', or 'I quit because if I had stayed I would have gone postal on someone, so I thought I'd save everyone the trouble', or 'I was terminated' (what a horrible word for losing a job - I mean after all they didn't really kill me), or because someone decided that I no longer 'fit the needs of the company'. Well, since the actual space they give me to write the story of my working life is less than that of a postage-stamp, I simply write, 'was let go'.
     'Lather, wash, rinse, repeat' -- most places I'm forced to go back at least three jobs, answering the same questions, forcing me almost certainly to do any or all of the following:
a) Make up dates, names, addresses or phone numbers of past employers whom I've long forgotten,
b) Go back to the Inquisitors Assistant and ask her for a phone book so I can look them up (I swear, at several of these jobs I actually saw a cat-o-nine-tails jutting out from her desk one time as she passed me the book),
c) Flip open my cell phone to call home to ask my kid to look up the information - at which time the Inquisitors Assistant stands, leering at me, convinced I'm some kind of terrorist calling in a bomb threat she paces, watching my every move.
      When I finally finish, I gather the forms and look them over... 'Oh, my God', my handwriting is awful! I'll never get an interview they can't possibly read all this tiny type!' Walking across the lobby I look out the window and realize that the morning has passed into afternoon, and I still have three more of these to go through today!

"Now, old man, -- you have one last chance. Confess the heinous sin of heresy, reject the works of the ungodly -- Uhh, two last chances. And you shall be free -- Uhh, three last chances. You have three last chances, the nature of which I have divulged in my previous utterance.

     O.K. so I survived the application interrogation, and was granted an 'audience' - interview. I return to the office and face the actual Inquisitor this time, who will pepper me with more questions. Again, even as I sit there, in my business-best, smelling of my  best cologne, in a well appointed office, why do I still like I have done something wrong?

"Right! If that's the way you want it -- Cardinal! Poke him with the soft cushions!"


    The questions come, mostly standard, but some, I have decided are worded purposely to throw you for a loop. Here are a few that I have experienced during the last few weeks of interrogations - err, umm, interviews. "If you were in Africa, which would you rather be, the Bengal Tiger or the Zebra?" - First, I had to stop my self from telling this brain child that Bengal Tigers are from India, not Africa, instead I asked him, "Am I a hungry Tiger or am I a fast Zebra?" - I oddly did not get called back for the job.

"Hm! He is made of harder stuff! Cardinal... Fetch... THE COMFY CHAIR..."
"... So you think you are strong because you survive the soft cushions. We shall see! Put him in the Comfy Chair!"

    This one is even better. At the end another inquisition - interview (damn, I have to stop doing that!) the interviewer slides me a paper and pen and says, "Write me a four line poem about your last job. When you finish leave it on my desk." -- this is true!!!! If you want, email me and I will share the poem with you!

"Now -- you will stay in the Comfy Chair until lunchtime, with only a cup of coffee at eleven!"
"I suppose we make it worse by shouting a lot, do we? Confess, Man! Confess! Confess!"

    As I sat in the parking lot after unfruitful interview #4, I was thinking to myself. 'Why do they make me feel this way?' Is it because as the 'unemployed' I have no control over anything? Maybe. Is it because they, the 'Employer' have the power to grant me a job? Jobs (as discussed in a previous post) that make us seem 'worthy' as part of the employed masses? Maybe. The more I think about it, I believe that employment is a cycle of madness.
    I think it goes something like this... 1) Get educated. 2) Hunt for a job. 3) Get a job. 4)Work (if you're lucky until you can retire). 5) Lose your job (become unhappy and quit, or, for some reason lose the job). Repeat Steps 2 thru 5 until you die. I know this seems pessimistic but is that all there is? If so, then there needs to be a way to make the entire process much easier.
      My coffee cup is empty.... I look around.... No Inquisitor.... I make my way back to the kitchen, refill my cup.... cross the kitchen... open the cabinet and grab two cookies.... "Hazzah! You think you have won, Inquisitor! I have coffee, cookies AND I am sitting in a VERY Comfy Chair!!!!"