Hunchback of San Diego

Pretend this post is from Friday.

Now wait, I take that back. This IS Friday, you're just pretending that it's not.

Good, now that we've gotten that cleared up.

Friday:

I finally got my career counselor butt in gear and visited my first career fair in San Diego. I call it a bout of inspiration and a renewed passion in my job, but after after my blog from tomorrow, you'll probably call it a bout of stupidity. But that's a whole other story...

Anyways, I left home bright and early and made my way out to Poway for the Congressman's Job and Resource Fair. (Note: I never saw a Congressman and this Congressman-hosted Congressman event. Congressman.) Despite not needing a job, I was dressed to impress, as the flyer suggested I should be. For anybody who knows me, they know I'm not a skirt or heels kind of gal. And yet, I was wearing both. And, I was wearing panty hose. Like I said, dressed to impress.

There wasn't much traffic on the way there and it was a pretty peaceful drive.

So I wasn't prepared for what I saw pulling into the parking lot. Cars. And lots of them. Okay, yes smartass, I was prepared to see cars in the parking lot. But I was not prepared to see how many cars there were in the parking lot. Cars along the street. Cars parking in the red zone.

Then my eyes drifted to the line that had congregated out front. I felt like I was jumping into the line for Space Mountain. In heels. I couldn't believe just how many people were there for this job fair. Thousands, easily.

In the end, the line went faster than I expected and I was able to get in the doors.

So I walked up to table after table. Of course, the conversation always started the same way, "Hi! What's your name? What kind of job are you looking for?" (Imagine someone saying that in an incredibly fake, I'll-never-talk-to-you-again kind of voice.)

I can't imagine being a person there looking for a job when none of those hiring managers could pick you out of a police line-up in an hour.

But when I introduced myself -- told them that I was not there to find a job -- and described what I do and what the YWCA does, the glazed-over expression faded from their eyes. I was able to have some good conversations with some companies who sounded like they wanted to help the residents at the YWCA. Many of them told me to give them a call when one of YWCA clients applied to a job with their company.

In the end, I was able to make what I hope are some really great connections with hiring managers at Home Depot, Lowes, SeaWorld, the Zoo, and Hilton. But only time will tell.

While this alone was a rewarding feeling (I hope, if it all comes out to play), there was one feeling I felt above all else: grateful.

Grateful I had a job. Grateful I wasn't there among the throngs of people, desperate for any kind of employment. Grateful I wasn't just a number.

Anyways, it was a successful outing and I left the fair feeling complete.

Almost.

Everybody knows those awesome kitchy giveaways at job fairs. The keychains. The pens. The multi-colored highlighters. Well, as I was in the parking lot, making my long trek back to my car, I remembered the kitchy handout I really wanted from the job fair. A bag clip. Yep, the one thing I could not bear to leave without was a bag clip -- a plastic contraption that keeps your Doritos crunchy and delicious. Talk about greed.

I made a 180 and walked straight back into the fair, making a bee-line for the table with the chip clips. I nabbed one off the table and ducked my head, doing one last round to pick up the swag before heading home.

As I had made up my mind that I was too greedy for my own good and should get the hell out of here, I was startled by someone grabbing my arm.

It was an older woman who was standing in line to talk to someone at a booth. She had grabbed my shoulder.

She looked at me and said, "Oh, honey. You need to have more confidence than that. Stand up straighter and put your shoulders back. I saw you walking around earlier and I just knew. Look, you're never going to make an impression when you don't have the confidence in yourself."

She thought I was looking for a job. Of course she did, we were at a job fair. Wasn't everyone.

Should I tell her I didn't need a job? No, that seems like a bad idea. No. Just agree.


So I just smiled at her and said with as much graciousness as I could muster, "Thank you so much for the guidance."

And then I turned and walked away, trying to get to the door as soon as possible. But not before one last blast of humiliation. Another woman, who had obviously just heard the exchange between me and this other woman gave me a pitying look and said, "Oh yeah! And I like your glasses!!!"

And that's how I became the Hunchback of San Diego. In heels. And a skirt. And glasses.

But thank god I have a job.