Job Probs

Holly got word to me that Jack is floating down a bad river. He cannot find work. She says more and more she sees him unshaven, with circles under his eyes, food and coffee stains on his clothes. 

It can wear on you, the blizzard of job fairs and job clubs and networking and networks LinkdIn and trying to ferret employment leads from every friend, neighbor and family member, everyone you know.  Jack’s gone to his kids’ games and not seen any of the game because he was too busy trying to subtly pump all the other parents for employment intelligence.  He told me at the bar one night that he has sent 100s of resumes by mail, and 1,000s of resumes by e-mail, or posted to job sites. 

I told him often that negativity breeds negativity, that he has to stay positive. Never give up.  Last time I told him that he snorted and ordered another scotch.

I went with Jack once to this church basement for a job club meeting.  There were 40 people in the room.  All but 5 were white, middle-aged men. Of those 5, 3 were women. 1 was Asian.  And 2 were black. At one point, when a guy named Ray was telling the room of that week’s failures, one guy turned and said to me, “I knew this was coming.”

You can tell how long someone has been looking by the desperation in their eyes.  Posture is also a telltale sign for many.  But not all.  Several of the attendees were so stooped they looked like they had been hauling cements blocks for the previous 18 hours. 

Jack gave up on internet job sites.  The only winners on those sites are the sites themselves. These days your chances of finding a decent job hinge on knowing someone on the inside, says Jack.  

Jack rarely hears back when he sends out a resume.  He says he doesn’t waste time sending them out by mail anymore.  He doesn’t really waste too much time sending them out electronically anymore either.  In either case, he never hears back.  You can only fire your resume out there into the black abyss of hopelessness and never hear back before eventually losing hope. 

Survival jobs are hard to come by also. Starbucks is selective about hiring former VPs and executives.  They prefer to hire bright and bubbly youngsters over somber and disillusioned former middle managers.  Jack can’t even get a job as a roofer or dry waller because he is a native English speaker, and thus assumed that he will not work for pay that is just enough to pay for gas to get our there and home again. 

Jack has taken to saying that he is a failure. Total failure. He says is life is a failure, a complete waste. He told me at the bar one night that he should have died a young a glorious death in the Army. “Had my chances,” he says. 

Many weredogs are also affected.  We tend to take different jobs and careers, for fear of being recognized by former co-workes, clients, what have you. Not hard to understand. If a dog works as a doctor for 10 years he or she might easily be seen by someone he used to know. 

There are many weredogs I know who are in human phase, are not ready to shift to dog phase. They must remain human for a time. Many of them cannot find work. 

Also there are weredogs in dog phase who cannot find home who are having to be creative about shelter and living arrangements.  One dog I know lives now as a roving guard dog at a scrap yard. He slips out many nights and goes to a nearby dive bar where he drinks and sings on amateur nights each week. He’s developed a small following for his Springsteen renditions. He always takes back burgers and brats to the other 3 dogs in the yard.  It’s not quite fair, he says. But it is the best he can do.

Some weredogs, who are coming back to human phase, are going into the military.  Jobs are scarce. Most weredogs have been soldiers, several times. A friend of mine, Buster, joined the Army. He had to act like he didn’t know half of what he already knew about soldering. Oh sure, he had to learn the new weapons and commo systems.  But, they operated on the same intents and necessities. He was killed in Iraq by an IED.  Remember, yes, I told you this: weredogs die. We are not immortal. We can be killed by bomb and bullet. A bullet passes through me just as ragged as the next guy. And no, it does not require a silver bullet to kill a werewolf. Lead does just fine.