I love how you've decorated your office. This desk is oak, right? (courtesy of http://myesllab.files.wordpress.com)

I had a job interview for an Account Manager position… a very odd job interview. I don’t really know what to make of it. So maybe teasing out my thoughts into an epic blog post, laced with humor and vitriol, will clear things up. What would really clear things up… having this post picked up by a publisher, expanded into a book bought by millions of people and turned into a movie, with the part of Norm, the fearless unemployed blogger, played by George Clooney. Maybe it wouldn’t. And George might not want to endure the months of gym time necessary to fully become the character. But I really think we should try, just to be sure.

I arrived early for my interview. So I stood outside the nondescript downtown office building, scrolling through emails on my phone. A leisurely stroll from the subway, past City Hall and through the neighboring park, didn’t kill enough time. Nor did a quick and depressing stop at the bank machine. But being early is good. It shows eagerness. It shows discipline and drive. It shows that I have nothing better to do.

The company’s office sat at the end of a meandering hallway, next to a sketchy-looking medical office. I walked in to find the receptionist vacuuming around her messy desk. It was jammed into a corner with some boxes and a couple of broken fans. A narrow walkway, lined with shiny metal chairs and blurry pictures of New York City, led to three offices. Had they furnished the space with leftovers from the previous occupant? The place was uninspiring for a marketing company. It was uninspiring for any company.

I asked to use the bathroom, and the receptionist directed me back out of the office to a door marked “Out of Order.” “Ignore the sign,” she explained. “It works.” And technically it did, thanks to copious amounts of duct tape. The bathroom appeared to have exploded recently and been pieced back together by MacGyver. Times are hard even for former television stars. I went about my business quickly, touching only what I had to.

The receptionist handed me a clipboard upon my return. A basic information sheet was attached, along with an interesting questionnaire. It contained 20 or so groupings of four adjectives, with directions to choose which of the four most and least describes me. The purpose was to create a psychological profile and ferret out the people who would excel in a certain role. I’ll make up an example to illustrate…

• Watchful
• Theatric
• Fucoid
• Helpful

I would probably check off “most” for “helpful” or maybe “watchful” and “least” for “fucoid,” since I’m not “of or like seaweed.” But the appropriate answers weren’t always so obvious. Sometimes none of the words applied, leaving me to pick the best of the worst. Sometimes all of them applied, forcing me to pick the “least” tag for something positive and sell myself short.

After completing the application, I was called in to interview. The interviewer’s office was dominated by a huge curtain-less window overlooking Broadway. Sunshine streamed in. Still the room was only slightly less depressing than the waiting area. It contained a desk and a couple more metal chairs. I don’t even remember a computer or any personal effects. The office seemed to belong to no one.

My interviewer was tall, well dressed and barely out of college. Being closer to 40 than 30, I’m increasingly aware of people way younger than me in positions of power. He asked questions as if seeing my resume for the first time. “So… you worked at company X. How was that?” I answered simply, praising the company and the experience of working there. He didn’t really listen. His cellphone rang at one point, and he checked it. After a few stale exchanges, he asked why I was applying for an entry-level job. This was news to me. My rather direct response was that I didn’t know I was. Account Manager isn’t usually an entry-level job. He ceded my point. I ceased to care about the job.

With the interview portion of the meeting out of the way, he launched into his spiel. This is the type of company we are. This is our way of doing business. This is the project we’re hiring for. He’d obviously delivered the words many times and been instructed exactly how to do so. He maintained strong eye contact throughout, as if trying to hold me in place. He leaned slightly forward, as if trying to engage me more. There was a thought-out method to all this.

I listened and tried to figure out the angle. Everything sounded reasonable, sort of like a pyramid scheme does until you actually explore a little. This seemed like a scam, but I couldn’t figure out why. I just knew that I wanted no part of it.

I imagined all the applicants who’d sat exactly where I was sitting. I imagined all the applicants who would sit where I was sitting. I felt stupid and small. Stupid for putting on a suit and dragging my unemployed ass halfway across the city for something I suspected would be a waste of time. Small for not having a choice. Putting up with such nonsense is so frustrating.

He handed me a business card at the end of his little speech. He was a partner. The company would decide quickly who to bring back for a more in-depth interview. I could expect a call as soon as that afternoon. He instructed me to keep my phone line open. I said that I would, though I was really looking forward to actively ignoring the call. I didn’t even get that chance. He never called.

You be the pharoah, and I'll be the slave. (image courtesy of http://friemoney.com)

How did I become such a target for pyramid schemes? Is it the unemployment? It’s like I have a giant sign on my forehead that reads, “yes, I would love to partner with you to sell the latest space-age product that could save my life, and in the process receive triple-digit returns on my money and never work again, except for all the selling.” In the last few weeks, multiple organizations have contacted me with promises of success and riches if I join up. All I have to do is take my place at the bottom, sell a lot of stuff and then get some people to sell it for me. The offers always seem a little suspect.

To be fair, the business models of the companies contacting me suggest a Multi-Level Marketing (MLM) rather than a pyramid structure. The line between the two can be fuzzy. My good friend Wiki P. Edia – knower of all things… kind of – explained the difference over coffee earlier today. People make money in pyramid schemes by enrolling others, who then enroll still others; no good or service is sold. The business model is non-sustainable and illegal. MLM organizations have a similar structure, in that members create networks of people below them from whom they may earn commissions. The difference is that members of MLM companies sell a real good or service, and the companies are legal.

Those who approach me seem to like what they’re doing, or they’re mainlining caffeine and happy pills. Either way, enthusiasm can be infectious. It always makes me interested in what they’re saying and why. Within about two minutes of meeting, they hit me with the vague notions of financial freedom and personal satisfaction – common selling points of most pyramid/MLM schemes. Those who have honed their craft might turn it into a question like, “would you like to make lots of money and set your own hours?” Approximately 1.7 seconds later (0.8 if I’m also mainlining caffeine) I realize that I am being recruited. A project for a former employer involving a popular pyramid/MLM-structured company gave me a keen eye for this sort of thing. If I were as quick and clever as wifey, I might reply, “I prefer the desperate life of a corporate peon, slaving away in the firey pits, thank you very much” or “f**k off, weirdo.” But I’m not. The rest of the conversation becomes a desperate search for a way out. I usually don’t find one.

I was approached at a networking event awhile back by someone selling products from a company called Isagenix. Here’s a blurb from their website…

This company can be your vehicle for financial freedom and a lifetime of satisfaction by helping others. In addition to using and sharing the “no-compromise” high-quality cleansing, nutrition and skin care products, the Isagenix Team Compensation Plan provides a logical and rewarding pathway to a better financial future. It rewards your personal efforts and allows you to leverage your time while helping others achieve their success. The plan is generous and provides a substantial income earning potential.

The products may work, or they may not. I have no idea. But the system set up to sell them is definitely MLM. And the guy at the event was pretty relentless. He had my business card before I knew not to give it to him. It was a networking event after all, I was throwing my business card at everyone within 1000 feet of the place. He tried to persuade me to join his team, become part of his family as it were. I even watched at his insistence some of a crazy video of the founder talking at me in front of a while background. After multiple phone conversations and some talk about a freelance project, he stopped calling.

A story about me and my unemployment blog Jobless and Less ran this past Monday on NY1. I received the following email that morning, before I even saw the clip…

yes hello how are you doing today? i saw you on new york 1 this morning i have a great site for you too look at this morning     www.TNI.com/2733376 when you get there go click on “the opportunity”  if you have any qustions feel free to call me at XXX-XXX-XXX my name is XX XXXXX or i can be e-mail at XXXXXXXXXXX@yahoo.com you can IM me there or just e-mail me ok have a great day thank you

Given the professional nature of the correspondence – never mind the grammatical nuance, punctuational mastery and convincing calls to action – I immediately sold my apartment at the market rate ($24) and joined. The company is called Tahitian Noni International, and they appear to also sell various dietary supplements. Again, who knows if the products actually work?

I was contacted today with yet another intriguing business opportunity, this one so vague I actually forgot (and had to reteach myself) English halfway through. Here it is…

Peace and Blessings

Ms.XXXXXX

I saw your interveiw on NY1 News.I also visted your blog. I’m currently working with a group of professional people.We are introducing a new business concept in the tri -state area making multi streams of income. I would like to set up an appointment with you today.

Your first question is probably, “did she actually type the message after her signature?” Yes, she did. Please take all the time you need to grasp the genius in our midst… I’ll wait. Her response to my followup email revealed the time and place of her group’s next meeting but no actual information about the business opportunity. So I did a little internet super-sleuthing and discovered Ur Residual Ncome. The name suggests the company offers residual income, or something far dirtier. I’m assuming the former, given the content on the award-winning site. Here’s a description of their services, in their words…

(Residual income is income you continue to receive long after you’ve done the work that generated it; it’s like the royalties that songwriters receive)

This website will help you discover how to generate a significant LIFETIME residual income from the comfort of your home.

You don’t have to leave your house to get this information; there are many different ways to get the information.  There are phone calls, live and recorded webinars and live meetings.

That copy is way more convincing than all those late-night infomercials I record and run on a loop all day to test my tolerance for pain. And the nature of the business opportunity seems promising. I immediately bought back my apartment and sold it again (this time for $17) to raise the membership fee. Watch out world, here I come!

To answer the questions I posed at the outset of this post, unemployment has to be the reason I’m targeted. An MLM recruiter assumes that I’m looking for a money-making opportunity, and rightfully so. Depending on the length of unemployment, one may even feel desperate and a little down on their luck. A recruiter might also assume that unemployment has left the job seeker disillusioned with their job prospects and career in general… still another reasonable conclusion. People in this frame of mind are willing to give an opportunity the benefit of the doubt. We want something – anything – to work out. And we’re really trying to find it. But we’re not blind, and we’re not stupid. Ridiculous products and ridiculous promises may pay your bills, but they won’t pay mine. Find someone else to bother with this nonsense.

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