When Did Things Change?
March 3, 2016
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Way back when I was a wee tadpole of a lad, seventeen and fresh out of high school and waiting for college to start, I got my first “real” job. I say real, because there was a job I had before that.
When I was 14 or 15, I spent the summer at a job I got through one of my sisters. For a summer, we sat on lawn chairs at the California Highway Patrol Academy and watched stoned and drunk drivers make their way through an obstacle course. Yes, that’s right, for one sweltering California summer, I worked on my tan while watching people exit a mobile home after they smoked pot or drank alcohol. As they drove the obstacle course, I was one of many who observed and marked down how many cones they touched or knocked over.
But when it comes to real jobs … the kind you apply for an interview for … my first came towards the end of the summer of my 17th year. In my memory, it went this way. My mother made it clear it was maybe time for me to work. I should get a job. So, I applied for a job to keep her happy — not so I could get a job, but so it would appear that I cared and wanted a job.
It was a McDonald’s. I submitted my application and got an interview with the manager and about 10-15 minutes later had my first job offer. And my first job. It lasted for two months until I quit as a birthday present to myself.
Fast forward more than 30 years and my oldest son struggles to find a job. I won’t entirely defend him because there is much more he could do than he is doing, but he has applied for many jobs, walked into many businesses, and it just isn’t happening. So, this week he got an interview. Here’s what the interview was.
Three different interviews. A separate interview with each of the company’s owners, and the third interview with a woman who works for the company. If he passes that gauntlet, he will get a call for a “second interview” which really sounds like a “fourth interview” if you ask me. The potential employer???
A yogurt shop.