commemorating thirteen months of uninterrupted employment

This July marks the thirteenth month of my employment. And while thirteen months at a job may sound like a trite thing to celebrate, these thirteen consecutive months make this the third longest job I have ever held. Frankly, due to the current climate around the office, I have grave doubts that many more months are forthcoming, but for now, this marks my third ever longest job. So please don’t think me presumptuous to give myself a brief pat on the back.

Finding a job when you have no truly valuable skills is not an easy task. Thus, prior to finding my current job, I took great artistic license in writing my resume.

Of course, having created a fictional history, I needed some fictional companies to have performed all of my fictional duties. I knew that I couldn’t simply list IBM or Microsoft as an employer, because a simple call to the Human Resources department would reveal that nobody had ever heard of me. And I knew that I couldn’t just make up a company, because a simple internet search would reveal that these companies never existed. I needed a company that was legitimate enough, but not too legitimate.

So I searched the internet for some potential pretend employers that would fit the bill…any bankrupt or out of business company would do nicely, I reasoned. A simple Google search later, I had a few companies…marketing agencies, advertising firms, and graphic design boutiques that were once thriving (or, at least, surviving) and had long since gone under. And, now out of business, no working phone numbers could connect to an office somewhere…an office that would have someone sitting in it that could refute what was on my resume.

So I was free to fill in the blanks, inserting any phone number that I wanted. And soon, my friends Jim and Gwen became past supervisors…I merely told them that if they ever received a call asking to confirm my employment with them, simply agree to everything that was asked and say that the company went under due to ‘unfortunate economic circumstances.’

I felt much better about my chances of landing a job knowing that Jim and Gwen would be confirming my employableness. I had instantly became a dynamic go-getter…a role that I felt sure I could play, if not permanently, at least throughout the duration of an interview.

Still, I kept my non-fiction resume handy as well...never knowing when an employer may have the need for an underwhelming job candidate. So, armed with two resumes, I flooded the internet.

I started to email resumes at lightning speed. I didn’t discriminate by job…every posting was applied to. Unfortunately, I didn’t discriminate by resume either…and after a few days of indiscriminate applying, I realized that the carefully drawn lines of which job postings got the ‘real me’ and which postings got the ‘fake me’ were quickly becoming blurred.

Consequently, when the first interview started was offered, I had no idea which ‘me’ should appear at the interview. Being that it was an advertising firm, I simply assumed that it was the fictional me who was being sought after. And while this made the real me, who remained interviewless, jealous, the paychecks would be shared by both the real and the pretend me’s, so neither saw the need to complain.

But after setting a date for my first interview, one for an Account Manager position, I realized that I had no idea what an actual advertiser does. More research was needed.

I scoured the yellow pages for advertising agencies and began calling. Posing as a college journalism major doing an article on the exciting world of advertising professionals, I got some guy named Greg to tell me everything I needed to know. How he landed the important Troyer Farms account, how he closed the Pepperidge Farm deal, and how he marketed Faygo Cola to local convenience stores…which earned him a promotion.

The interview didn’t go well. How could I have possibly known that BDI stood for Brand Development Index and not Big Dreadful Ideas? But I figured that even the most seasoned actors are bound to make a few mistakes on opening night.

Another interview was offered a few days later, this time for a sales position. Sales, however, fell into that gray category of ‘which resume was sent?’ I had no idea, since both real and fake versions would have been equally suited. I devised a plan to combat this…namely, wait for a clue from the person interviewing me.

As I sat across his scuffed, oak veneer desk, however, I began to see the fallacy of this plan…because after the small talk, he asked a very open-ended question. “So tell me a little bit about your past job history.”

Not knowing which resume I had sent, I had no idea how to answer the question.

Several seconds passed in which nothing was said. I was quickly crossing the line between ‘thoughtful pause’ and ‘potential mass-murderer silence’. I realized that if an answer didn’t pop out of my mouth quickly, I’d surely be mistaken for the latter.

“Well,” I stammered, “each of my past jobs have really given me a whole new set of skills, one building upon another.”

He just sat there, nodding slightly. Unsure whether he considered me to be an idiot or a sage, I was about to begin a rambling soliloquy on teamwork and hard work, or something generically related to work, when he saved me from a certain demise by saying, “let’s start with your past job as a teacher.”

Knowing that I had sent him the ‘real me’ resume, I breathed a sigh of relief, finished the interview without needing to decipher one single acronym, and three weeks later was offered the job.

The ‘real’ me had won the spot…and all the worry that my past jobs weren’t good enough or provided enough valued experience didn’t prove to be true at all. Obviously, he could see what an asset I would be.

And thirteen months later, I still believe that he hired me for me. Of course, I now see that he didn’t value my past experience at all. Rather, it was my lack of experience that caught his eye…because anyone with any actual experience in sales would clearly have seen that, between the commission structure and sales goals, they’d make more money selling insurance door-to-door.

Yes, my boss hired me based on my own merits…merits that spelled out ‘sucker’ all over my resume.