A Sidenote on Job Fairs

I just wanted to write a quick follow up on said Satanic ritual that Bernie expounded on earlier.

Like Bernie, I recently had my first job fair experience, and it was equally terrible. I did not even end up talking to any recruiters - most of the companies at the event had posted fliers to their displays advertising which jobs they were hiring for. Those jobs were either menial service sector positions (think Dish Network installer or manager of the local Dunkin Donuts - most likely my eventual fate, but I'm trying to forestall it) or more specific higher level careers, like radio station ad sales manager or software engineer. There were no entry level positions for the teeming mass of college graduates that filled the Colonnade hotel's event hall.

The desperation that filled the room caused a few of the attendees to do something that seems almost antiquated in this age of always-connected smartphones and blaring iPod earbuds: talk to strangers. In fact, for me, this was the most engaging part of the career fair. I met a few interesting people in line that day who (surprise, surprise) had it worse than me and were hoping for some shot at redemption. The first turned his head toward me to ask what time it was; from there, we began discussing what schools we went to and how long we had been looking for work. It turned out that he was a student from India who had traveled here to secure an MBA from Texas Tech, and since his school visa would be expiring soon, he needed an employer to sponsor him for a work visa.

The duo soon became a trio when a man with a ponytail and Cosby sweater interjected. I was taken aback when he asked me if I was cold, even though I was, not having the benefit of owning a topcoat. After some discussion of the nervousness that comes with interviewing and the things that will make a man teach science to little kids one day a week (marriage, apparently), a forth man came into the mix. An ex-army mechanic, he had been to many job fairs in the past couple of months, and his pace hadn't slowed.

I saw all three of the men that I met at some point later that day, as I wandered around the convention hall looking for some reason, any reason to hand off a resume. I hope that, unlike me, they managed to break through the long lines and recruiters' glares in order to find some meaningful employment. However, I can only assume that the most that any of us got out of that experience was a few minutes of company, and the reassurance that everyone was looking at the same fucked-up situation.