classifieds

According to online classifieds, every day, every where, somebody is looking for movie extras. An exciting opportunity waits in Pittsburgh, in Wheeling, in Cincinnati. An exciting opportunity waits in Cleveland, in Charleston, in Columbus. Erie, Johnston, Steubenville, there are exciting opportunities there. They’re waiting for the next sucker to buy into the dream of appearing in a major Hollywood production. The kind of production that is about reality. The kind that shoots on location in Steubenville or Wheeling or Johnston. The kind that doesn’t exist

everyone has an explanation

Everyone has an explanation for it. My mom, she says it’s a vein. One of those kinds that sticks out from the rest of your skin. The kind that feel like they’d go down inside of you if you’d just push them hard enough. Dad, he blames it on an infection. You know when you get sick and you can feel those two lumps right below your jaw and they’re swollen? Just like that, he says. My sister, she said she heard of people finding a lump after they’ve been lifting heavy objects. Furniture or appliances. Most of them work at Wal-Mart. That’s why they wear those harnesses, she says. She wanted to know what kind of work I’ve been doing.

Everyone has an explanation. Anything but cancer.

interview

“The way this works is you tell me how you’re a team player and how you know your job isn’t about personal gain. You’re future job, I mean. If you’re lucky, that is. It’s about the greater good of the company. You could list some of your biggest accomplishments if you’d like. You could say why you chose us. It’d help if you smiled through all of this. Remember, you’re not just selling your experience, you’re selling yourself too.”

The man in the suit with the loosened tie and shiny shoes takes a drag of his cigarette and looks down at my feet. He smirks when he says, “Wanna give it a go?”

These are all the same. It doesn’t matter if the person asking you questions is wearing a suit or a Burger King polo, they’re both looking for the same answers.

The man in the suit and the wet hair, he’s what the employees call “top floor.” He’s what all of us answering his questions want to be. He’s all of our five year plans. One day, we’ll be the ones with our feet on a desk that has our own gold nameplate. We’ll come up with our own questions to ask about teamwork or problem solving. One day, our wallets will be as green as we are now. Our hair as wet as our feet.

The way this works is every answer you give the man in the suit or the polo or the jumpsuit or the construction hat, it tells a little about yourself. Every answer has a deeper meaning. Saying you’re supporting your family means all you care about is money and not the “team.” Say you want to work too closely with your co-workers and you’re a follower with no upward mobility. Every word matters. Watch your body language. Crossed arms shuts him out. Crossing your legs is good. But not too much. Everything matters.

“Hey buddy,” he says, “did you wanna give it a go?”

“Well,” I say to the man in the suit with the groomed mustache, “I’m a real team player.”