“Ah, half-time at the Orange Bowl! Never fails to disappoint!”
—Mike Nelson, Mystery Science Theater 3000
I don’t think I was ever at a job fair before. I know what they are and I have definitely seen them portrayed in various media, but I don’t think I have ever actually attended one. Maybe something in college one time? But that was like so far back in time I think that Simon & Garfunkel were still together.
So, I was actually pretty jazzed about hitting up a local job fair that was being advertised through the New York Department of Labor. Over 80 businesses from the Long Island area! Over 10,000 job openings! It seemed like a cornucopia of positions that were just waiting – nay, clamoring! – to be filled with my incredible candidacy!
As further proof of my overflowing excitement, I broke out the classic business casual wear: combining my best dress pants with a proper button-down shirt, and (again, a testament to my dedication) no baseball cap. Truth be told, I wish I could say that it looked like a series of cinematic edits to the tune of ZZ Top’s banger “Sharp Dressed Man,” but upon checking myself in the mirror, my belt hiked up to my chest resulted in my head playing the theme music from the animated series “The Misadventures of Ed Grimly.”
Ah well – minor adjustments to belt height were made, I swapped into my slightly less-worn black shoes, and soon I was off in my sprightly 2006 Toyota Corolla to arrive in style at the nearby Farmingdale State College.
I have passed by this campus dozens of times, but because I never went in, I had no idea how big it was. I had to stop by and consult the actual large directory for cars alongside the entrance, and to really make sure I got a feel for the place, I turned a curve so tightly that I literally drove over part of it for a moment. Truly, this is exactly the kind of smooth, ordered behavior that has made me the darling of over a dozen companies.
I arrived a bit early, but still found that the parking was pretty full. I managed to find a spot near the back, giving me a nice stroll of what felt like 1.2 miles to the campus center through the cheerful sun beating down with 100 degree heat on my exposed scalp. My dermatologist will be so proud of me.
A concern of mine was the heat of the day; sure, the event was indoors and I fully expected air conditioning, but still, I had to drive there first, and my little engine that could really wasn’t known for powerful AC, with its highest setting somewhere between “lukewarm” and “bearable.” And, dirty little secret for you kids (and by kids I mean anyone born after the original “The Little Mermaid” animated film) as you get older your sweat glands get way more eager: “Oh, hey! Feels like the temperature went up 1 degree to a whopping 67! Time to get those armpits moist!”
There’s a prompt for your AI models. Please do not share the results.
Fortunately, though, I was in good shape. I had an undershirt on to protect my button-down, but even that was as dry as my father’s wit. Even better, as I came in through the entrance, I saw a gentleman with a button down shirt who was already soaked through on his back. (As an aside, coming from someone who carried around a backpack for about half of my adult life, I totally recognized it as a backpack sweat stain.)
Anyway, the good news is that even if I did start sweating, I would not be alone, and (most likely) would not have to worry about some woman walking behind me and ringing a bell, yelling out, “Shame!” every few seconds.
Taking a deep breath full of air conditioning and possibilities, I sauntered into the mix of booths, printed resumes in hand.
Well, to quote Mike Nelson from Mystery Science 3000 again, “It’s THIS disappointing.”
Now, this is no fault of the job fair, the organizers, or the participants.
Rather, as Taylor Swift wisely told us, “It's me, hi, I'm the problem, it's me.”
The first real alert that things were not going to work out as I had hoped was when I was talking with Uncle Giuseppe’s, an Italian grocery store chain that May and I absolutely adore, about their openings.
Uncle G’s: So what experience do you have?
Me: Oh, a lot of things; I have been a project manager for over ten years, for example. Maybe my skill set overlaps with that Production Assistant Manager position?
Uncle G’s: Which one?
Me: This one. The Production Assistant Manager?
Uncle G’s: OH! You mean the Pasta-Mozzarella Production Assistant Manager?
Me: Oh, uh, yeah?
Uncle G’s: Well, do you have any previous pasta-mozzarella production experience? Like, actually making the stuff?
Me: Ah. Well, since I never knew that was even a job title until about 57 seconds ago, I can’t say that I do.
Uncle G’s: Oh, sorry, we are looking only for people with previous pasta-mozzarella production proficiency.
Me: Can you repeat five times fast?
Uncle G’s: I don’t think so.
I can swear under oath that I was not expecting to hear that form of rejection when I got up in the morning. Also, can I just say now I am envious of those who have previous pasta-mozzarella production experience. Not just for the chance of getting that job, but that is a wicked sick life accomplishment. No joke – if I had that I would demand it goes on my tombstone:
“Here lies Matthew Plotecher. Badass pasta-mozzarella producer.”
And that was the roadblock I was constantly hitting; not the pasta-mozzarella producer exact part, but that the vast majority of open positions required a very specific set of skills that I, alas, do not have.
The big thing is that, for those unaware, Long Island is actually pretty heavily invested in health care: hospitals, laboratories, research centers, policy think tanks, etc. So I would guess that at least ⅔ of positions offered were things like registered nurse, postdoctoral researcher, certified mental health counselors, etc. All things that require very particular licenses or experiences in order to even be considered for the job.
The remaining positions being offered were, as noted with the pasta-mozzarella producer, looking for people with either direct working experience or at least fresh graduates that had majored in the subject and most likely had some intern work done as well. I spoke with a local newspaper about my writing but, sorry, “we’re looking for people with experience in journalism.”
Apparently, my years on LiveJournal don’t count.
Oh, and I did get a laugh out of one of the big, impressive laboratories recruiting for a sous chef. Not the first place I would think of for that profession.
But, that is the whole point of going to these job fairs, right? To see all of the different employers and see what positions they are currently hiring for, because you just never knew what else they may have?
Well, again, not quite. Many of the booths didn’t even have the job postings up, but rather just a QR code to scan so I could be directed to their website. Almost every time not even a chance to practice speaking to people about my experiences and skills. Just a, “Oh, scan our QR code! I’ll be here to answer any of your questions by telling you to scan our QR code!”
After about 45 minutes I had looked through each booth, scanned the QR codes, and found that no, nobody was looking for a project manager. Or a game designer. Or a professional napper. I did manage to grab a few flyers from a couple of places, and upon returning home, I did manage to at least apply to a few openings that, had I not gone to the job fair, I would not have been aware of. So, at least I did get something out of the trip. But I was home much sooner than I anticipated.
Still, it was good to go. While the jobs there weren’t really a fit for me, it did give me some new companies to track for possible job openings in the future, and also was a good reminder to keep my focus on local jobs.
And hey, I did bring back a flyer for a security guard company: I saw “Armed and Dangerous;” I know that being a security guard will inevitably lead to a series of wacky hi-jinks and uncovering union corruption that culminates in a chase scene where a tanker carrying rocket fuel explodes.
I’m down for that.