The Stroke of Midnight

Excerpts from "A Job Ain't Nothing But Work: Confessions of a Corporate Negro."

By Emanuel Carpenter

I had it all planned. It was the perfect plan for New Year's Eve. I didn't want to be like all of the Regular Joes out there. You know. Go out to dinner. Hang out at a crowded dance club with bright, flashing lights, loud music, overpriced champagne, and desperate hoochies looking for a man to kiss when the clock struck twelve. Or worse yet, sitting on the freaking couch for the umpteenth time, watching TV, and waiting for that overrated disco ball to drop. Screw that. I knew I could do a lot better than that. 

My girl Nicole still lived at home with her parents in Toledo. Worse yet, I had taken a job in Cleveland, which was about an hour's worth of white knuckled driving on the icy, Ohio Turnpike. We'd met at the University of Toledo during my last year of school when she was still a sophomore. It was love at first sight. Don't get it twisted. I saw that fine, round booty before I was anything. Any brother that didn't fall in love with that bodacious behind at first sight must have been blind. Pladow! When I finally got a look at that face, the deal was sealed. The girl could be a model, and I knew I had to make her mine. 

We'd been together for two years when I got the craziest idea. Instead of me taking that long drive to Toledo for New Year's Eve just to watch Dick Clark or to go to another lame ass party, I suggested that we get a hotel room and bring the new year in right. "Whatchu mean bring in the new year right," she said while rolling her neck and popping her Doublemint. "Baby, I want to give a new meaning to the term stroke of midnight."  

Like I said, I had it all planned. We could check in at a nice five star hotel with room service and valet parking, order some champagne and oysters, watch a little bit of girl on girl or two girls on guy or girls and guys on midgets or something to get in the mood or at least get some ideas, and then get to the gettin'. To be precise, when the clock struck twelve, I wanted to be stroking too. "We can make our own fireworks," I said. "Eric, you so crazy," she said flirtatiously. 

Now, I'll admit that I don't believe in no prolonged lovin' for hours and hours. That's the bullshit that adult video legends are made of. And since my sex life doesn't include an editor to splice and dice footage, I'll stick with my thirty minute average. Yeah that's right, thirty minutes, depending on how much booze I've had beforehand. At least it's better than two minutes.

 I knew I had to time it just right if I wanted come into the new year with a smile on my face and a shiver in my quiver. That meant we had to be in the hotel by 11:00, drinking by 11:15, gettin' butt naked by 11:30, and doing the do by 11:31. Planning is everything.

 I could just imagine the countdown. Five..."Ooh, baby you feelin' so good." Four..."Keep it right there. Keep it right there." Three..."I almost there baby..." Two..."I'm about to cu..." One..."Happy N..oooh oooh oooh y-y-year."

 Nicole was looking fine as wine and smelling like Escape. She was wearing a pink mini-skirt, knee-high leather boots, and a tight, black sweater that showed off her figure. I went to kiss her neck; I could smell her sweet fragrance dancing the delicate dance of pleasure through my nose. If they could bottle a combination of how she looked and smelled that night, Cialis and Viagra would go out of business.

 By 11:30, everything was going as planned. Champagne? Check. Oysters? Check. Butt nakedness? Double Check? The room service tray had a few pieces of chocolate spread out over it, and I got an idea. Just before the moment of truth, I wanted her to stick a piece of chocolate on the tip of my tongue. You know, they say that chocolate stimulates the brain the same way a kiss does. And what better time is there to feel a kiss?

 The lovin' was too good to describe by words but I'll do my best. It was strong, wet, juicy, succulent, tingly, hot, steamy, right on time, helluva, all of that, tight, freaky, sticky, zoom zoom, sweet and sour, and down right delicious. In fact, it was so good that making it last 'til the midnight hour was becoming more than a notion. As much as I wanted to bring in the new year with a spark, by the time 11:52 rolled around on the digital clock, I was already asking Nicole to put the Hershey's Kiss on my tongue.  

After a minute of my incoherent babbling coupled with my flopping around like a fish out of water, we flicked on the TV, snuggled under the blankets, and waited for the ball to drop. At midnight, we merely kissed the new year in. "There's always next year baby," she said. "There's always next year."

Chapter 1
______________________

Unemployment
Unemployment is underrated. It can be a great experience if
you know how to use your time wisely. There are no office
politics to deal with, no rush hour madness, and no psychotic
co-workers to avoid. But the pay and benefits suck.

When I was unemployed, I listened to my working friends’
advice. They confided in me about how they’d get depressed if
it was them who were jobless. I thought they were nuts. One
friend told me he wouldn’t know what to do with his life
without a routine. He was the type of person whose identity
was tied up into his job. When someone asked him what he did,
he’d say he was a software engineer, web-based developer or
whatever they were calling programmers these days. I never got
caught up in titles. When someone asks me what I do, I say
something like I give my wife good lovin’ every night. It
catches them off guard but they get the point. I am not my job.

As far as having a daily routine goes, I had a damned good one.
It went something like this:
7:00 A.M. – Wake up. Get the kid ready for school.
7:45 A.M. – Drive the kid to school.
9:00 A.M. – Eat breakfast. Go back to bed.
12:00 P.M. – Wake up. Shower (only if I had somewhere to
go). Check voice mail and e-mail for job offers. Eat lunch.
1:00-3:00 P.M. – Watch reality dating shows, do some
writing, or catch a movie.
3:00-4:00 P.M. – Play Mr. Mom by cooking dinner and
cleaning as much as I can in an hour.

Of course it wasn’t all fun. There were times when I had to
double-check to make sure the truck I heard outside was indeed
the garbage truck and not the Repoman. This was especially
nerve-wracking when I’d forgotten where I parked my car.
Here’s a tip: They can’t repossess your car if they don’t know
where it is. I’d discovered some very creative hiding places like
movie theater parking lots and at relatives’ homes.

Then there were times when I had to race to the caller id to
see if it was okay to answer the phone. Unavailable? Hell no.
It’s either a bill collector or a telemarketer; neither I am
prepared to speak with. Why is it that bill collectors are so
stupid anyway? First of all, they call from the same traceable
number 3 times a day. Then they leave these obvious bill
collector messages on your machine like ‘This Raymond Jones.
Please return my call at 1-800-just-pay, extension 12.’ They
conveniently leave out the company name because they think
we’ll avoid them if we hear it. But leaving the name out is a
sure indicator that they’re bill collectors. Then they give you
some reference number so that they can refer to the bill when
you call. Next, the bill collectors sound increasingly angrier as
the messages progress. Some of them will even try to trick you
by asking for you by first name like you’re old college buddies
or something.

"Heeeey. Can I speak to Emanuel?" (Bill Collector)
"Who’s calling?" (Me pretending not to be me.)
"Jessica."
"May I tell him what it’s in reference to?"
"Um. Tell him it’s in reference to his medical bill."
"He’s not here. But I’ll be sure to leave him the message."
Soon you’ll start to notice the bill collectors getting
progressively aggressive with their phone messages.
First Message – "Please call Raymond Jones at 1-800-justpay,
extension 12."
Second Message – "I really need to speak with you
concerning reference # 1234."
Third Message – "If you don’t call us today at 5:00, we will
proceed with legal actions."

Yeah right. Like a judge is really going to hear a case about
my overdue Sports Illustrated bill.

Being home all day afforded me the opportunity to make
some keen observations, like discovering how much Spray ‘n
Wash it takes to remove streaks from my son’s underwear,
discovering how much Spray ‘n Wash it takes to remove
streaks from my own underwear, and noticing how quickly kids
grow up on the soaps. Last week little Jacob was born. This
week he’s 21 and having an affair with his mother’s best friend.
If I was forced to watch half of the daytime programming that’s
on the tubes, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself. There
are about 30 talk shows featuring guests from trailer parks and
housing projects all over the country, 20 court shows, and
enough game shows to make you an expert on all kinds of
irrelevant information.

Still, my workday was great. I had purpose, entertainment,
and I was well rested. If I was receiving unemployment
compensation or severance pay, it was even greater. If staying
at home had paid, I would have been promoted to CEO in no
time. I think I missed my calling as a housewife. I could even
deal with the extra creative duties my wife assigned to me like
cleaning the garage and organizing the CDs by genre and
alphabet. But when she starting bitchslapping me for making
the Hamburger Helper a little too crunchy, I decided it was
time to grab the classifieds.

Classifieds
All of the career experts tell you the best way to find a job is
through networking. I’ve yet to find a job this way. Most of my
friends were too busy trying to stay employed themselves to
help me. They wouldn’t dare forward my resume to their bosses
if I had better credentials than they did. I could end up with
their jobs – or worse yet, being their boss. I can’t blame them
though. The last thing you need is for the person you
recommended to flip out on the job. Then everyone will be
looking at you like you can control how your friends act.
When I’m looking for work, I do like most people and hit
the classified ads. This includes newspapers and websites with
job listings. Sifting through these ads can be a life awakening
experience. I love to browse through the jobs I know there’s no
way in hell I would work. I’ve learned to pass over job
descriptions that mention an ability to lift, say, 50 pounds. For
those of you who are unaware, when a job description contains
words like this, there’s a good chance that you’ll actually have
to lift that weight quite frequently on the job. Still, I can
appreciate their honesty since I don’t have to waste my time
applying for it. Here are a few other phrases that scare me more
than David Duke running for president when job searching:

Work from home – Yeah right. I can imagine all of the paper
cuts on my tongue from licking all those envelopes now. If it
isn’t an envelope stuffing job it’s probably some sex chat
hotline.

"What are you wearing?"
"I’m wearing my favorite boxers with the streaks."
Doesn’t sound like a match to me.

Be your own boss – Um … if I could be my own boss, why
would I be looking through the classifieds? Sounds like a scam

Prolonged standing – No thanks. Asses and chairs belong
together, especially my ass and a chair. This job probably
involves physical labor or the use of the phrase "would you like
fries with that?" I’ll pass.

Sales – This job requires a certain personality type like a
weasel or a liar. Plus the travel schedule can be torturous.

Various Hours – Say good-bye to your social life. If the
company calls you at 3:00 A.M. or on your off day, get ready
to bring your ass in or to look for another job.

Retail – Been there. Done that. Hated it. There’s nothing worse
than a little old lady who belittles you because she has a gold
card. In clothing sales, this position is nothing more than a
glorified folder.

Energetic People Needed – You’re definitely barking up the
wrong tree. I’m trying to find ways to do less work, not more.
This position will probably have me working my tail off.

General labor – Not with my aching back. I’d never show up.
I’m getting too old for this crap anyway.

Hardworking – Hardly working would be more appropriate.

Psychological Testing – If they were to really get inside my
twisted mind, they’d run for cover.

After circling the classifieds I like best, I start creating my
cover letters and tailor-made resumes for the job. If I see a job
that I want, I create a resume for that job. Lawyer? No problem.
Brain Surgeon? I can do that.

One thing I learned from a human resources director is that
past supervisors are very limited to what they can tell potential
employers for fear of lawsuits. Usually the only information
they can confirm is the dates of your employment. They will let
your new employer know if you were a good employee or not
though. So don’t do anything too crazy like making
photocopies of your butt and distributing them among the
people you dislike with the words "kiss this" on it during your
last 2 weeks if you think you’ll need a reference. Otherwise,
feel free to read the job requirements and copy them into your
resume. If the job description is online, it’s even easier. Just cut
and paste and you’re qualified. The real skill comes into play
during the interview. If you’re good, you can fake your way
from a $20,000-a-year job to a $100,000-a-year job in no time.

Rejection Letters
It’s only natural to expect only a few interviews and lots of
rejection letters when applying for jobs. I’ve noticed that
human resource departments have gotten a lot smarter when it
comes to phrasing these letters. There was a time when the
letter was straightforward with words like "you’re
underqualified," "you need more experience," or "get real,
bitch." Nowadays, the letters are so sugar-coated that you
hardly even recognize that you’ve been rejected. It’s probably
because they got sick of rejected applicants calling them up to
threaten bodily harm.

"What do you mean I’m overqualified? I’ll bet I’m qualified
to whoop your ass. I’ll be up there to rip you a new asshole in
20 minutes."

Here is an example of a rejection letter I received once:
Thank you for submitting your resume for employment.
Please be assured that the information you provided us
will be carefully reviewed and evaluated. Should it be
determined that your background and qualifications meet
our position requirements, we will contact you to arrange
a personal interview.

As you can tell, this letter is very carefully crafted. It gives you
false hope that they may actually call you. Don’t believe it. It’s
just a nicer way of saying, "get real, bitch." If you receive a
letter that tells you about an overwhelming response or a letter
like the example above, move on. You’ve been rejected.
Now, thanks to the wonderful advances in technology, you
can get an instant rejection letter via e-mail. I swear I e-mailed
my resume to a couple of companies only to get an e-mail
rejection letter (e-jection) minutes later. "Damn! They didn’t
waste any time." I wonder if they even read my resume. They
should send this e-mail with the voice of Marv Albert in the
background saying, "Ejected!" All kinds of things were running
through my mind when I received these letters. They were
probably saying, "Check this guy out. He has a 2-page resume
with these skills?"

"Planned, organized, and implemented what? Sounds like a
glorified secretary to me."

These e-jections crushed my ego. At least when I mail my
resume, I’m given the false hope that someone is actually
reading it and contemplating if she should interview me.
I heard of one person who sent a reply to the rejection letter
stating that he rejected the rejection. He said something like
‘Thank you for your rejection letter. However, I would like to
reiterate that I’m more than qualified for this position. Perhaps
you’ve overlooked my ability to learn quickly and the fact that
I have an MBA. Therefore, I reject your rejection and will
report to work at 9:00 A.M. Monday morning. I’ll bring the
donuts.’ The employer was so impressed with this genius’ letter
they hired him.

Some companies will tell you that you’re overqualified for
a job. Still, people are confused by this term. Let me break it
down for you. If you’re overqualified for a position it means
that you will probably leave as soon as a better offer comes
around. No one wants to hire new staff every 2 weeks. If you
have a Master’s degree and have applied to work the fryers at
McDonald’s, there’s a good chance that you’re overqualified.

Job Fairs
It still amazes me how some people come to an interview so ill
prepared. When I arrived to a job fair for a customer service job
with a software company, I signed in and took a look around
the office. In other words, I was summing up the competition.
I seriously considered giving many of these applicants a copy
of Dress for Success. I couldn’t believe how these people were
dressed. Some people were wearing Dockers, Phat Farm
gear, or Timberlands. I had to stop and check the address
again to make sure I wasn’t at an audition for Soul Train or
the next P. Diddy video. The next guy I saw reaffirmed I was
in the right place. He had a checkered jacket on that nearly
blinded me, pants that almost matched the jacket, along with a
shirt and tie. These people were dressed for anything but a job
interview.

Since the room was very small, I was able to listen in on
some of the preliminary interviews. This gave me the
opportunity to capitalize on the applicants’ mistakes and the
interviewers’ comments.
"So why do want to work for Intellectual Inc.?"
"Um, well, you see, I saw the ad in the paper and the pay
range. You know, I got laid off on my last job and I need a new
one."
"Our ad indicated that a degree is required for this position.
Where did you obtain yours?"
"Well, you see, I don’t have my degree yet but I’ve been
working on it off and on for about ten years."
"Do you know anything about our company?"
"Not really."
"Well, our company provides solutions for Internet Service
Providers.…"
Even if I hadn’t been prepared by researching the company
for this interview, sitting in the lobby would have prepared me
adequately. When it was time for my interview, I was ready.
"So why do want to work for Intellectual Inc.?"
"Intellectual is the premier provider of solutions for Internet
Service Providers. I feel that my skills would be a nice addition
to the company.…"
The interviewer gave me a Kool Aid smile. I knew that
job was mine. Not because I was incredibly intelligent or
anything. It was because the other applicants were complete
morons.

Some people showed up on their lunch hours and didn’t
hang around when they realized the wait would take longer
than an hour. Others did not have resumes, references, or even
ink pens. All I did was show up and do as I was told.
Attending these job fairs reminded me of people auditioning
for American Idol. First the Human Resources department
weeds out the untalented and stupid, like the guy wearing the
plaid suit and the woman who can only elaborate on her people
skills.
"Can you type?"
"No, but I’m a people person."
(Compare these to the really bad singers.) Then the talented
people move on to the next phase. (Compare these to the folks
who can sing across multifarious genres.) Finally, a job offer is
extended to the absolute best. (Compare these people to the
person who gets the recording contract.)
When I worked for a different company, I had the
opportunity to see the way some of the applicants were dressed.
Our ad said the work environment was casual. Some people
assumed they should show up casually dressed for the
interview. I’d see guys in blue jeans, Khakis, and even shorts.
Duh! You’re supposed to get the job first and then show up in
casual clothing.

A human resources manager shared with me how some
applicants purposely sabotage their interviews. There was one
man who showed up for an interview. After brief introductions,
the man took a boom box out and turned the volume all the way
up. "Okay, now I’m ready for the interview," he shouted over
the noise. When the human resources director decided not to
offer the man a position, he was elated. "Great," he said. "Can
you please sign my form from the unemployment bureau?"

No Appointment
After receiving countless rejection letters via e-mail and mail,
I figured it was time to change my strategy. Instead of mailing
my resume, I started showing up at the company that posted the
job opening. I figured I’d get the upper hand by being the first
applicant. I thought I could finagle my way into an interview on
the spot too. To me, it was the equivalent of walking into a
grocery store and taking down the Help Wanted sign because
I was the man they were looking for.
Of course, this method was not always effective.
Occasionally, I would run into a well-trained rent-a-cop or
overprotective receptionist who saw me coming a mile away.
"Yes, I’m here to speak with the HR director about the
position she posted."
"Do you have an appointment?"
"No, I don’t, but–"
"She doesn’t see applicants without an appointment. You
can drop off your resume with me or fill out an application."
At this point, I could either try to lie my way into that HR
director’s office or take my medicine and do exactly as the
receptionist said. I usually chose the latter. But that didn’t stop
me from fantasizing about the former.
I can see it now. I’d wait for a door to open and make a mad
dash for it, with my resume in hand, flapping with the wind.
The receptionist would either chase me or put in a call to
security. But she would be too late. When I eventually found
the human resource director, I’d try to get a quickie interview.
If she didn’t admire my skills, she could at least appreciate my
tenacity. "This guy’s got spunk. Let’s give him a chance." Then
I would laugh in the receptionist’s face and say, "so long,
sucker." Later I would be giving her orders and telling her how
I like my coffee.
Since this fantasy has never been actualized, I decide to do
as the receptionist says. But I still try to use her as an
accomplice. After getting her name, I use it in the subject of my
e-mail to the HR director. "I was just in your facility today
when Suzie Jones suggested I contact you directly concerning
the management position." Even if it’s a stretch, it at least
allows my e-mail to stand out from the other losers.
Lately, I’ve been getting very creative when it comes to the
subject line of my e-mail to employers. If you’re using a job
website and click on the e-mail address, the subject is usually
filled in for you. But I can imagine a hundred e-mails with the
same subject line. Not mine. If mine doesn’t read "Suzie
suggested I contact you," then it reads "Free Cookies," (who
can resist free food), "Don’t click on this message," (everyone
wants to be a rebel), or "Forget the messages above and
below." When our country is at war, I find it effective to
mention something about hiring a war veteran in the subject
line. Hopefully, the HR director is not a peace activist.

Applications
I hate showing up for a job interview only to be told to fill out
an application. Why did I send a resume? I guess employers
figure they can catch you in a lie, get more detailed information
about your employment history, or get you to explain those
gaps in between jobs. They think they’re soooooo smart. Still,
I like to add my own unique flavor to applications. For
instance, I never fill in past salary information. I always enter
the words "will discuss" in those slots. That way if I have to
apply for a job that paid lower than my previous one, I’m not
automatically disqualified. Another reason I do this is to avoid
shooting myself in the foot. If my past salary paid less than
what the position being offered is paying, chances are I’ll have
no room to negotiate. I’m not about to accept the company’s
first offer.
I can usually be vague with employment dates on my
resume. Applications usually force you to enter duration dates.
This may cause you to have a few gaps in between jobs. When
asked about them, it’s best to just lie and say you were in
school, working for a temporary agency, or working for a
company that didn’t have transferable skills worth listing. No
one wants to hire the guy who has been spending his days with
Judge Judy.

Interviewing
During an interview, everyone has a hidden agenda. The
interviewee has to justify the lies that appear on his resume.
The interviewer can’t tell you about the bullshit that the job
really entails. The goal is to be the best bullshitter.
When I decided to take a marketing job, I figured I’d be
doing … um, marketing. Of course, my new boss failed to
mention that I’d be lifting up to 50 pounds of boxes filled with
marketing materials (like half of a trade booth) and using my
car as a U-haul during the interview. My trunk and backseat
was filled to the max with this stuff. Yeah, I know it was only
a Ford Focus, but I’d only had that car for a year. I needed it
to last. I had grown accustomed to having room for passengers
in my car. "Sorry, son. You’ll have to sit in the trunk. Daddy’s
got work in the car." And besides, I didn’t spend all of those
years in college in order to do manual labor.
Of course, I dished out my own bull as well.
"Where do you see yourself in 5 years?"
Not in this hellhole, I was thinking. Of course, I said
something like, "I see myself either moving up the ladder in
this company or blah blah blah.…" This was not a career move
for me. It was my bridge job, my job to get a job, until I found
my real one. Don’t laugh. I’m still looking for that dream job.
There’s an unwritten rule that you’re never supposed to talk
about money until a job offer has been extended. This is one of
the stupidest rules I’ve ever heard. I remember a time when
classified ads listed exactly how much a job would pay. This
saved the company’s time and the applicants’ time. When I
applied for one job, I tried the ‘never talk about money’ rule
and it blew up in my face.
A certain transportation company was looking for a
manager. I’d submitted my resume and was called for an
interview. The interviewer liked what he saw and scheduled me
for a second interview. I did well in this interview too. Finally,
the interviewer scheduled a third interview, during which he
made me an offer. It was basically minimum wage. All of the
negotiating in the world could not bring the salary up to what
I was expecting. I had wasted time and gas for nothing. I
politely declined.
After a job fair in a hotel conference room, a recruiter
invited me back the next day for an interview. He asked me to
meet him in the lobby of the hotel at 1:00 P.M. I thought it was
a little strange at first. After I read his business card with an out
of state address, I figured he was staying in the hotel for the job
fair. I showed up the next day at 1:00 just as he asked. When he
appeared, he took me towards the elevator. Then I started to get
really suspicious. I was thinking I hope this guy doesn’t try to
ass-rape me or something. Later, when he offered me a drink
of water, I insisted on bottled water because I was afraid he
might try to put the date rape drug in it or something. Hey, for
all I know, this guy could be Jeffery Dahmer the second with a
fetish for dark meat. Although the interview turned out to be
legit, I kept my ink pen ready to stab in case something went
down.

A Note to the Interviewer
The whole point of the interview is to ask the applicant
questions to discover if their skills and personality match the
skills and personalities of his potential co-workers for the job.
It is not your opportunity to get on your soapbox. Shut the freak
up and ask some questions.
There have been numerous interviews I’ve attended where
all I got to say was "uh huh." The interviewers would go on for
hours about what they did, company politics, and non jobrelated
issues. They didn’t ask one job-related question. I didn’t
get those jobs, so I guess I didn’t do so well.

Psychological Testing
I’ve had other interviews where I was given psychological tests
to determine my personality type and honesty. Those honesty
tests are for idiots. If anyone fails these tests, they don’t deserve
to have a job. They set you up with questions like "Is it okay to
steal if you need the money for lunch and plan on replacing it
the next day?" Come on. Who would say yes to this question?
The psychological testing questions are not much better.
‘Please choose one of the following answers: Strongly Agree,
Agree, Somewhat Agree, Disagree, and Strongly Disagree.’

Sometimes I feel like ending my life – In my mind I’m
thinking the answer is strongly agree, especially at this very
moment for lowering my standards by trying to get a job at this
place. Of course, my real answer is strongly disagree. What do
they think I’m nuts?

Oftentimes I fight authority – The answer in my mind is
hell yeah. Most managers are nimrods. It’s my job to set them
straight. My real answer is strongly disagree.
This charade usually goes on for a good 30 minutes or so,
frustrating me to no end. It’s a good thing they don’t ask these
questions with a polygraph machine hooked up to my arm or
else I’d never get a job.

Background Checks
Many companies will ask you to submit to a criminal
background check. I don’t mind this because I have nothing to
hide. It also lessens my chances of working with a convicted
murderer. Of course, it does nothing for the ones who haven’t
been convicted. Wouldn’t it be interesting to discover that an
applicant hasn’t been convicted of a murder but has been
accused of murder on several different occasions? No laws can
prevent a company from hiring him.
Some jobs require a credit history report to determine if
you’re qualified. Now I can certainly understand a
psychological test but a credit history? So what if I’m paying
$700 a month for a Hyundai? That’s my business. Even if my
phone happens to be in my mama’s name, that should not
exclude me from being qualified for a job unless it’s a job with
the phone company or a collection agency. One of these days,
I’m going to get my dream job of working for one of those
credit reporting agencies and delete all of my negative credit
history. Then it will be adios to those student loans from 30
years ago that I’m still paying $20 a month on. Later, I could
call up all of my homeys and tell them I can hook them up for
$50.00 a pop.
A human resources director once told me that it is unlawful
for a company to exclude you from a position based solely on
credit history. However, we all know that it happens all the
time. They just tell you some other generic term statement like
‘We’ve decided to go another way’ or ‘another candidate fit the
qualifications better.’ You never get to find out the real reason
they said no. It’s probably because the bill for that CD of the
month club is in collections.
When I showed up for one interview, I waited patiently for
the supervisor of the department to greet me and invite me to
his office for the interview. As I waited, I glanced around the
lobby and noticed that I was the only black person around. This
included the receptionist, vendors, salespeople, and the
employees. When the supervisor finally arrived to interview
me, he looked at all of the white people first as if to be hoping
and praying that I wasn’t the candidate he was looking for.
Much to his dismay, I stood and introduced myself to him with
an extended hand. The disappointment was written all over his
face. He gave me a dishrag handshake and refused to look me
eye to eye during the entire interview.
As he nervously looked over my resume as if it were a bank
robbery note, he searched his brain for interview questions. I
could just imagine what was really going through his mind:
"So why did you ‘HE’S BLACK’ leave your last ‘HE’S
BLACK’ job?"
"Well, Tim. There wasn’t a lot of opportunity for growth
there after completing my degree."
"Er, uh, why did you leave the military?" (In other words,
that seems like a safe place for good Negroes to work for both
you and me).
"I’d accomplished all I wanted from the military, Tim. I
received the G.I. Bill, gained valuable work experience, and
traveled around the world."
This awkward interview went on for a good 20 minutes. It
was obvious that I wasn’t going to get the job based on what I
saw in the lobby and Tim’s initial reaction to my black face. He
couldn’t even think of a job-specific question to ask. It’s a
shame because I was more than qualified for the job. I’m sure
Tim just couldn’t see himself working with a black person.
On the way out, Tim gave me another dishrag handshake
and informed me that he had several other candidates to
interview for the position. Of course, that’s the classic kiss-off
phrase. I realized I would never step foot in this facility again.
Meanwhile, Tim probably returned to his office in search of
Purel just in case the blackness wore off.
In hindsight, I should have just jumped on Tim’s desk and
started tap dancing. Since I obviously wasn’t going to get the
job, I could have at least had some fun and sent a message at
the same time. I could have closed the interview with a phrase
like "I sholl is glad to meet ya, boss!" That would have given
him something to talk about for the rest of his life.
There was a recent study done by a university that proved
how some people are discriminated against based on names
alone. If your name sounds a little too ethnic, it’s a good chance
you won’t be called for an interview. This is especially
concerning for African-Americans since we frequently get
creative when naming our children. Shaquanda, Alize, and
Tyquan wouldn’t have a chance. Most employers are surprised
when I show up for an interview because my name sounds very
mainstream. When I interview, I’m very proper. But as soon as
I get back in my car, I’m blasting my new Tupac CD. (There’s
always a new Tupac CD.)

Signs of Desperation
There comes a time in every person’s life when they may have
to consider taking a job that is somewhat beneath them. After
a few months of job-searching without any luck, I started to feel
this way. Since I’d borrowed all I could from family and
friends, I began to start cutting back on expenses. "Do I really
need cable TV? I only had 3 channels when I was growing up
and it suited me fine." Next thing you know, I was cutting back
on the necessities. "Do I really need to each lunch? It’s really
an overrated meal. I can always have a big breakfast and
dinner." Then I started to rethink my high standards of
employment.
"McDonald’s is looking for managers. Well, at least it’s
management in a Fortune 500 company."
"Is retail really that bad? I shop retail all the time."
"Prolonged standing can’t be that bad. I’m under 40 and in
good shape."
Suddenly, I started to rethink my salary requirements by
lowering my salary expectations by a few thousand dollars on
my online resumes. "I’ll get more when the economy improves
or when I leave for a new position." Afterwards, you realize
that you’ve made a career out of the fast-food industry.
When I’ve gone through the rigmarole of interviewing,
negotiating a salary, and accepting a position, I then have to
come to the realization that my free time is over. No more
occasional showers, optional mouthwash, and noon wake-up
calls. Now I have to learn how to work the VCR to tape
Elimidate. Yeah, work sucks but I need a paycheck. So it’s
off to Never Never Land.