blacklisted

A few weeks ago, I had an interview at a company and was promptly sent a rejection letter. Interview on Monday, rejection letter by Wednesday. I can only assume that no sooner had I left the interviewing room than a letter was being drafted to inform me of the company’s non-interest in me.

Two weeks later, as I was engaging in my Sunday ritual of scouring through the Sunday classified ads, I came across the exact same posting for the exact same position which I had applied to and been rejected for by this exact same company. Granted, I’ve come to realize that my talents and skill level are mediocre at best, but my mediocre talents could have more than accomplished what this job entailed.

So under the guise of trying to improve my ‘future interviewing performance’, I called the lady who had interviewed, and rejected me. She answered, and I mentioned how I had interviewed, been rejected, and then saw the posting for the job re-run that Sunday.

“I was wondering what I could do to improve my interviewing skills,” I asked. Though what I meant was, ‘what the hell are you looking for and why was I not good enough?’

In a rather cold and curt tone, she told me, “I’m not at liberty to discuss this with you.”

And I found her comment rather cryptic. She could have easily blown me off by saying that it was ‘lack of experience’, or ‘lack of education’, or a ‘lack of anything’ really, but to say that she ‘wasn’t at liberty to discuss this’ sounded like their decision not to hire me was of national security and was thus labeled ‘top secret’.

It sounded fishy, and I suspected that perhaps I was receiving a bad-mouthing from my ex-employer. I realize that doing this to a former employee is technically against the law, but I feel quite certain that it happens all the time. So I called my ex-employer to verify my own employment. My thinking was that I would catch them red-handed in dragging my name through the mud and sue them for millions of dollars, thus making the need to actually ‘get a job’ moot. Granted, my plan was poorly constructed past the ‘calling them’ phase, but I was sure that it would flesh itself out as the call progressed.

So grabbing my old Walkman tape recorder in order to clumsily record the call, I began dialing. True, the Walkman hadn’t been used in over fifteen years, but it was a Sony. And knowing the good work ethic of our friends overseas in Japan, I was confident in the quality tape recorder that I’m sure they produced.

But, upon calling, all I got out of our human resources clerk was the confirmation of my job title and dates of employment. I even tried leading her into saying bad things about me. I’ve watched enough Law and Order on television to know that in a court of law this would constitute entrapment, but I figured that I could erase that part of the tape later on. But even with all my subtle leading of the witness, I couldn’t squeeze a bad report about myself out of her. Still, I felt that the whole thing smelled like a cover-up.

Obviously, there was a conspiracy at work here. There must be some ancient and secret society of HR personnel, I reasoned. Clearly, I had been blacklisted and my name was placed upon a ‘do not hire’ list that was shared by members of this society. If only I knew the secret handshake or code word that was needed to gain entry into the underbelly of the human resources field, I could find out what terrible things were being said about me and why my name was on this list. Because how can someone find a job when you’re viewed as an enemy by the entire human resources profession?

It was like something out of the movies, and I envisioned a younger Harrison Ford, playing the role of me…granted, in real life I more closely resemble one of those Hobbits from Lord of the Rings, but being that this was my fantasy, I got to do the casting. Harrison would uncover mystery after mystery to slowly unravel the secrets of this sinister HR sect. Finally, after risking life and death, he would gain access to the inner sanctum, retrieve the scroll upon which was written the names of all the un-hirables. And, set against a crescendo of music, he would pull out a pencil and erase my name from the list. Thus ending the evil, tyrannical conspiracy to keep me from getting a job.

As for now, though, I still feel like I’m being blacklisted.