Unemployment: Craigslist

Searching for a restaurant job = Craigslist. I really don’t understand how people got jobs before Craigslist, and fuck, I can’t even fathom a job hunt before the internet. Newspapers? Phone calls instead of emails? Gah! The past was a scary time, my friends.

During my unemployment in the past 5 months, Craigslist and I have become great frienemies. Craigslist makes it possible to remain lazy and nocturnal while job hunting, and provides listings for an abundance of available jobs. Yet, I want to strangle every person who posts an ad. Typically, Craigslist restaurant ads can be categorized as one of three types:

Type 1: The Mystery Ad

We are an establishment. We might be a restaurant, or a bar, or a restaurant-bar. We may or may not mention what neighborhood we’re located in, but we’re certainly not giving you the name or address of our establishment. Please email all highly sensitive, personal information. We may or may not respond. We may or may not steal your identity.

mystery_ad3

Type 2: The Semi-Mystery Ad

We are also an establishment. Unlike mystery ads, we’ll give you the address of our establishment, but never mention the name. We do this for unknown reasons. Perhaps we are afraid of the internet. Perhaps we don’t understand the internet. Perhaps we want you to take that extra time to prove your dedication. That extra 2.4 nanoseconds it takes to match our address with the name of an establishment via the internet. Come to the address listed with your resume.

semi-mystery_ad

Type 3: The Straightforward Ad

We are such-n-such restaurant. We demand a lot. Not just a lot, but everything. You must be available 24 hours a day and be superhuman. Please send your resume and cover letter so we can laugh at you and never respond.

straightforward_ad

All of these ads are up to no good. None are above severe typos. None sound like someone of any intelligence posted them. None appear to be places anyone would like to work.

Despite the degrading manner of this process, I send out resumes in response to all of these types of ads. To cope with the pain, I try to convince myself that maybe just one of my emails will actually reach another human being. The outcome is dismal, yet, I trudge on.

Unemployment: Applications

Filling out applications for restaurant jobs is a worthless activity, commonly classified as torture. Here’s how it works:

You go to a restaurant which has announced its need for employees. You bring your resume, because you have to. If you don’t have a resume, you’re not trying to get a job.

At the restaurant, there may be 100+ other desperate, jobless losers to keep you company.

 You get an application from the hostess. It will have a number on it designating your place in the wait-an-hour-for-a-five-second-interview line. While you wait with application #137, you fill out its multiple pages, with multiple sections, which ask the following:

Basic Info:

Please fill out your name, phone number, email, and all that other shit that is clearly typed on your resume. We only know that you’re truly ready to be a slave if you give us this information again in your best I-hate-this-and-I-hate-myself handwriting.

Not So Basic Info:

Please give us more information about yourself than is even close to being necessary.

Your real name. C’mon. We know you’re a dirty criminal and you changed your name.

Social security number.

Have you committed a felony? Please explain, as if there is any explanation for a felony that would result in us hiring you.

Mother’s maiden name.

Can you legally work in the United States, you damn dirty foreigner?

Bank account passwords.

Have you ever applied here before? Please tell us so that we can reject your application even faster this time.

Blood type.

Have you ever been fired from a job before? Please explain why exactly we shouldn’t hire you.

Superhero identity.

Previous Employment:

Please continue to prove your slave dedication by entering your employment history, which is also clearly typed on your resume. And, yes, we really do want the name of your supervisor and his phone number from the place you worked 5 years ago.

References:

Please list names and phone numbers of people who like you so we may call them and make them not like you after we harass them.

 Education:

Tell us every school you ever attended and what degrees you earned. Yes, we really did ask for your elementary school and whether or not you graduated from it.

Skills:

Nunchuck or otherwise, you better have some, cause like girls, we like people with skills.

The Exam:

This is the part of the application which no one, no matter their schooling or experience, can complete perfectly. It is a test. You will be graded harshly. We know you’re a raging moron, so please prove it now so we may throw away your application.

Questions:

  1. List the five most obscure wine varietals you know. Give a geographical location where the grape is commonly grown, and mention what the soil smells like. Describe each wine as you would to a master sommelier.
  2. Name and describe three types of Sicilian grappa.
  3. What are the ingredients of an Exploding British Gumdrop cocktail?
  4. What is 2 + 6?
  5. List every ingredient in the following sauces: Remoulade, Bernaise, and Financière.
  6. Name 16 spices used in Tibetan cooking.
  7. Which of the following words are misspelled? Potatoe, Cheeken, Suk, Mai, Cocke
  8. If a customer asks for a flying tulip with his ribeye steak, what do you bring him?
  9. Name and diagram every possible cut of steak. Explain the flavor characteristics for each as you would to Jean-Georges.
  10. If a customer urinated on you, what would you do?

And finally…

Sign Your Life Away:

Sign and date under a series of clauses that say things like:

When you sign this, you promise you’re not lying about anything and have never lied, like ever, in your whole life. And if we find out you lied, we can, like, not hire you.

And:

When you sign this, we have the right to stalk you. In every way possible. If there is a way to get information about you, you give us permission to do so. This includes stalking you on Facebook and Twitter and wherever else you may have posted personal information about yourself. We can stalk you and we will use it against you. And again, not hire you.

Click photo to enlarge.
SignYourLifeAway

Upon completing your application full of lies, you must wait. And wait some more. Finally, #137 will be called and you will hand your application and resume to a suit, who, like a bad one night stand, won’t look you in the eye, and says he’ll call you but never will.

You leave feeling worthless and abused, and you will repeat the process at the next restaurant.

Phoenix

Cheer lands in Phoenix after spending nearly seven hours on a plane she expected to be on for four. She has missed her connection flight to California due to her extended time getting to know the gate and runway of JFK. She walks over to the customer service counter for US Airways, and stands at the end of a line of other delayed and disheveled travelers.

While waiting, Cheer’s new friend, aka the passenger to her right on her flight, walks up.

Plane Pal: “I guess you missed your connection, huh?”

Cheer: “Yuuuuup.”

Plane Pal: “Damn.”

Cheer: “Yeah, now I have to wait in this line to find out how to get to California.”

Plane Pal: “Well, good luck. Let me know if I can do anything.”

Cheer: “Thanks. I’ll survive. The only thing that could make my night more painful is if a perfect stranger asked me an extremely personal question and I got stuck in Phoenix.”

Cheer turns back around to face the counter and there is now a girl standing behind her in line.

Girl to Cheer in reference to Plane Pal: “In-flight hook-up?”

Cheer looks at the girl quizzically and analyzes who just asked her this question. The girl is awkward and pudgy. Her upper jaw is narrow and her gums show when she smiles. She has long, stringy, brown hair pulled back in a lazy ponytail.

As Cheer’s brain is still grasping the situation at hand, she manages to utter some words.

Cheer: “Did you just…? No…Wrong… No….”

Girl: “Hey, stranger things have happened!”

Cheer: “Like right now? Like this strange moment, where you, ask me, a complete stranger, about my sexual promiscuity while flying?”

-Crickets-

Cheer turns away and pretends to text on her cell phone.

Cheer finally reaches the counter.

Cheer: “I just got off the flight from JFK. It arrived late and I’ve missed my connection to Monterey.”

Dude behind counter: “Can I see your boarding pass?”

Cheer hands it to him.

Dude: “There are no more flights to Monterey tonight.”

Cheer: “I thought that might be the case. Can you get me to San Jose?”

Dude: “No.”

Cheer: “San Francisco?”

Dude: “No.”

Cheer: “Oakland?”

Dude: “No.”

Cheer: “Anywhere in the bay area?”

Dude: “No.”

Cheer: “It’s only 9pm. There’s not a single plane flying to the bay area?”

Dude: “Yeah, we don’t really like the bay area.”

Cheer: “How about a different airline?”

Dude: “No.”

Cheer: “Jeez. OK… How about LA? Can you get me to LA?

Dude: “No.”

Cheer: “Anywhere near LA?”

Dude: “No.”

Cheer: “Anywhere in California. Please, can you just get me to California?”

Dude: “No.”

Cheer: “There isn’t a single flight from Phoenix to California tonight?”

Dude: “Yeah, you know my comment about the bay area? It really extends to all of California.”

Cheer: “How about you fly me to another airport that is flying to California?”

Dude: “No.”

Cheer: “Are you telling me what I think you’re telling me?”

Dude: “If what you think I’m telling you is that you’re stuck in Phoenix for the night, then yes.”

Cheer: “No. No. No. No. Please no.”

Dude: “Oh, yes, yes, yes.”

Cheer: “When’s the first flight out tomorrow?”

Dude: “11am.”

Cheer: “Balls.”

Dude: “So, I’ll issue that ticket?”

Cheer: “Yes.”

Dude: “OK. Here’s your boarding pass for tomorrow. You’re all checked in, just go to the gate in the morning.”

Cheer: “OK. So, what about a hotel?”

Dude: “Here’s a snazzy blue discount coupon.”

Cheer: “Excuse me?”

Dude: “Snah-aaaa-zzzee blah-uuuue…”

Cheer: “No. I mean, you’re not going to give me a free hotel after you stranded me?”

Dude: “No.”

Cheer: “Care to elaborate?”

Dude: “Well, my handy computer here says ‘Screw Cheer over. Tell her it’s due to weather in New York.”

Cheer: “Ummmm…”

Dude: “Weather delays aren’t our fault. We can’t control the weather.”

Cheer: “And I can?”

Dude: “No. But, we have all the airplanes, and therefore the upper hand. So, we don’t have to give you shit if we decide that weather is your problem and not ours.”

Cheer: “I see.”

Dude: “Glad we are on the same page. So…just call this number…”

Cheer: “Yeah… about that… I’m not quite to your page yet.”

Dude: “Just once I wish one of you bastard holiday travelers would just take the shit sandwich we’re dishing out and not whine. Jeez.”

Cheer: “So, lemme get this straight. You can’t get me to California. You can’t get me a free hotel. What can you get me?”

Dude: “Coupon. Snazzy blue.”

Cheer: “I’m not liking this deal. I’m totally losing. US Airways is getting all the money and all the winning.”

Dude: “And your point is…?”

Cheer: “How about some airline credit?”

Dude: “No.”

Cheer: “Upgrade my flight tomorrow?”

Dude: “No.”

Cheer: “Food voucher?”

Dude: “No.”

Cheer: “Sympathy?”

Dude: “Phhht. Hahaha!.”

Cheer: “OK. You can’t do anything for me. But, what about the person above you? What can he do?”

Dude: “Nothing.”

Cheer: “Nothing?”

Dude: “Noth-ing. Gosh! Bitch. Bitch. Bitch. Are you done? Or do you really want my supervisor come tell you all the things I’ve just told you?”

Cheer: “Supervisor.”

Dude gets on the phone.

Dude: “Yeah… I have a disgruntled customer here… Can you come down? …JFK.”

Dude’s face suddenly changes and he types and clicks.

Dude: “Huh. OK. Thanks.”

Dude to Cheer: “So, looks like they’ve changed the computer memo. Now it says “Only half screw Cheer over. Tell her the delay was due to baggage, not weather.”

Cheer: “So that’s why we sat at the gate in NY for so long? Baggage?”

Dude: “Yeah.”

Cheer: “So…now it is your fault!”

Dude: “Yeah, yeah, get over yourself.”

Cheer: “So, now will you take this silly blue coupon and give me a fucking free-pass-for-reals voucher?”

Dude expressing extreme pain with a sigh: “Yes.”

Cheer: “And, ummm, so, now that’s it’s your fault, can I have a food voucher too please?”

More pain, Dude: “Yes.”

Cheer = Winner.