“Nice one,” he said.
“Thanks.”
Three years later I was back in town for spring break. I was getting a cup of coffee at Dunkin Donuts when I saw Fat Ramones wheeling a hand truck stacked with champagne to a luxury model SUV.
“Hey,” I said once he was finished loading the case.
“Hey, man,” he said. He lit a cigarette. “Bitch didn’t even tip me, but I’d still let her piss on my face.”
“How are things?”
“My band might get a gig at the VFW Hall next month.”
“Cool,” I said.
“You should come.”
“I’m just in town for the night. I’ve got to get back to school.”
“I bet that college pussy is ripe, huh?”
“I do okay.”
He flicked his cigarette in the air and followed it with his eyes. “Get it,” he said. The butt dropped to the ground and rolled into a sewer grate. “Weak.”
“Whoops,” I said. “I forgot about that.”
“Whatever. I gotta go,” he said. “You know Mike. If I’m out here too long he’ll sodomize me with a bottle of port.”
“Sounds about right,” I said.
“Fuck that guy.” He held out his hand, and I slapped it.
“Good seeing you, man.”
“Later.” He walked back to the shop dragging the hand truck behind him. The wheels bounced off the ground every time it skipped over a crack the sidewalk.
My Father’s Quiz
I was single and unemployed and used the time to write a short story about a couple that had grown apart. I called it fiction, but it was based in reality. When it was complete I didn’t submit it to any journals because I realized I’d written it for closure. I tucked it away in a folder, which gave me some relief from the post-breakup depression, allowing me to focus on finding a job.
I created a profile on a job site for freelance writers, and as I considered what type of headshot to use (professional with a tie? but it was freelance work, I thought, so I wondered if pajamas would be more appropriate), I realized that I should be doing the same thing for dating. I didn’t mind being single when I had a job, but being single and unemployed was dismal. I went to happy hour with friends, but on rainy nights when nothing was going on and couples stayed in with pizza and a movie, I was drinking beer alone. I needed to find a job or meet someone before the solitude paved a path to depression.
My job profile and dating profile weren’t all that different; they both boasted all my best qualities in the hopes of attracting an inquiry. I split my time applying for jobs and dates and woke every morning to double the disappointment when there were no new messages in my inbox. Jobs weren’t responding to my writing samples and the women who responded to my date requests always went dark after the third exchange when I revealed I was unemployed.
Online dating was a futile endeavor for the unemployed, but I thought it beneficial to become familiar with the TV show Freaks and Geeks, because I saw it listed as a favorite TV show among the girls I was interested in. It would be a useful skill when I was back in action because I’d be able to send opening messages like “Bill is definitely my favorite character, but I was much more like Daniel in high school.”
When I finished the series I still wasn’t any closer to finding a job. The only new message in my inbox was from my father with the subject line “How’s the job search going?” I didn’t want to respond until I had something to report. I saved it in a folder containing one other email that had information on a copyediting job that required five to seven years’ experience editing at a major newspaper. I held on to that one in case there was a week where I hadn’t met my job contact quota and needed something to include in my weekly status report. Even if I exaggerated the work I’d done editing submissions for a small literary journal, I could only fake two years’ worth of professional editing experience. There was no chance my resume would make it past the first screener. It was for emergency purposes only, but I’d never come close to needing it. I was averaging two applications a day, which put me way over the government requirement of three a week to retain my unemployment benefits.
I refreshed Craiglist’s employment section for the third time in ten minutes, and a blue link appeared atop a stack of grayed-out job postings. “Paid Internship For Writers With The Possibility Of Full-Time Employment!!” It was intriguing enough that I sent off my resume, cover letter, and writing samples. I got an immediate response.
Dear Steven,
Congratulations! You have been selected for the Collective Clicks Paid Writing Internship. You were chosen from amongst a large pool of candidates primarily because we loved your style of writing when you explained why you think you deserve to be accepted as an intern. In the past, writing interns have ended up being employed by Collective Clicks post-internship—so yes, there is a chance for employment after the internship; although obviously no guarantee!
The internship came with a free online writing course that was valued at $150 and, upon completion, a certificate stating that I was an expert review writer. Adding that I was certified in something seemed a valuable addition to my writer profile.
A guy named Izzy monitored my progress and was available for questions. I learned about search engine optimization and how to draw attention to things posted online using keywords and phrases. The course focused on WordPress, which I’d already been using for a year, having mastered the basics after watching a YouTube tutorial, but I still took diligent notes throughout each lesson. I prided myself on getting good grades on the proficiency quizzes, and I completed the course with a final score of forty-nine out of fifty. I was tempted to print it out and hang the results on my refrigerator.
The next step was to use what I had learned and write four product reviews. Though he said it wasn’t necessary, Izzy encouraged me to choose products that I used or owned. It was odd that having used the product was not required, but freelance writing often involves writing about subjects I know little about; however, I figured it would be easiest to review familiar products.
It took some digging, but I was able to find four relatively new items to review: an MP3 player, a podcast microphone, a pair of running shoes, and a pair of casual shoes. I analyzed each product and documented the pros and cons. The MP3 player was half the price of an iPod, and half the quality. Even at full blast the music was drowned out by passing trucks when I ran next to the highway. Was it worth the cost? Since it’s rare for me to purchase anything over fifty dollars without consulting a review, I felt a responsibility to accurately portray my overall satisfaction with the item. Since an iPod was out of my price range, I was happy with the MP3 player, but advised anyone with the financial capability to get an iPod instead.
I incorporated what I learned in the course when I described my Asics running shoes as “reliable” and “perfect for the weekend trail runner.” I included the product name twice in the meta description and included five focus keywords. I sent each completed review to Izzy, who graded them individually out of fifteen points for a total of sixty.
I scored a fifty-eight. I was marked down one point because I’d forgotten to include an image with my running shoe review, and in my microphone review I forgot the product number in the meta description. Izzy said those were minor mistakes, and I was eligible for the paid internship.
To complete the internship I was required to write fifteen reviews that paid two dollars each, which was only paid out if all reviews met Collective Clicks standards.
Izzy sent me a spreadsheet of products that needed reviews and suggested I check Amazon descriptions for items I wasn’t familiar with.
My first review was for a men’s reserve chronograph blue dial stainless steel watch. I didn’t know anything about watches. I found them uncomfortable and had learned early in life that there were enough clocks in the world that I could get by without one. Even in the nineties when rude boy fashion provoked me to get a pocket watch, I stopped wear
ing it because it hindered my skateboarding.
The watch I had to review retailed at $1,500. In four hundred words I had to describe its look as well as the pros and cons. I found it unlikely that the type of person who’d spend $1,500 on a luxury item would seek out random internet advice, so I wasn’t too concerned that my fabricated review would cause someone to make a purchase they’d later regret.
I typed the name of the watch into Google and received five thousand results. I read a description on Amazon and barely understood the terminology. Flame fusion, unidirectional stainless-steel bazel, Swiss Quartz—the terms were foreign to me. Thankfully, my English degree had provided me with excellent bullshitting skills. I used the same technique to write the review as I had when I wrote a paper on a subject I knew little about. I researched and rewrote descriptions I found online in my own words. “Blue dial has matching luminous silver tones” became “the luminous silver tones match the sapphire dial.”
It took me an hour to put down four hundred words and I took comfort in the fact that my bullshitting abilities hadn’t been diluted since graduation. I impressed myself with lines like “The Swiss-made watches are exclusively handmade and represent a pinnacle in superiority for the discerning aficionado.”
The following morning there was an email from Izzy.
Steven,
Great work! Your review will be posted later today with your name in the byline! It’s going to look great in your portfolio. I’ve highlighted your next assignment.
Izzy
My next task was to review a pink Gucci watch strap, designed for women with petite wrists. I thought I knew nothing about watches, but I really knew nothing about Gucci watch straps designed for women with petite wrists. At least a watch had a face with knobs and hands I could describe to fill up the word count, but four hundred words on a piece of leather seemed impossible.
I entered the name into Google and surfed through the top results. All the links led to bargain sites that listed two or three features with no descriptive text. I turned what little info I found about double-stitched leather and solid gold hardware into sentences and managed a modest two hundred words. I gave it a second pass and stretched each sentence. “Secure fold over safety clasp” became “The safety clasp securely folds over your petite wrist.” I pulled each sentence apart just far enough that it didn’t break and managed to hit the word count.
The next day I had to review a stainless steel watch strap for men, which meant I wouldn’t be able to reuse any of the descriptive language I had come up with the previous day. I doubted that even guys with the most delicate wrists would buy something described as “dainty,” and the only antonym for dainty I found was inelegant. I was certain no man in the world had ever done an internet search for “inelegant watch strap.”
I questioned whether any of this experience would enhance my freelance writer profile. I already had a decent collection of samples showcasing what I could do and I didn’t want to bring down the quality by adding a bunch of wordy watch reviews—just like my dating profile wouldn’t include a double-chinned selfie in a collection of thoughtfully curated photos taken from my most attractive angles. The point of the profile was to only present the best.
My dad taught me to ask myself two questions when faced with uncertainty about a job—does it make me happy and/or does it make me money? Before I could answer I needed more information.
Izzy,
I have a few questions about the internship. How many people are usually hired on for full-time positions after the internship is complete? Is the full-time position forty hours a week? What’s the average pay? What percent of people complete the internship?
Thanks,
Steven
While waiting for a response, I Googled Izzy and discovered he lived in Florida. I recalled the Criagslist ad stated there was an office in Seattle where the potential full-time job was located. I searched for the posting to make sure I hadn’t misunderstood the details, but it had been removed. This sparked my suspicion, which then increased when I stopped and thought about the credibility of someone named Izzy. As far as I was concerned, the name Izzy was only appropriate for guys who played rhythm guitar and had a permanent burning cigarette wedged between the E string and the neck. Not someone responsible for my employment.
Hi Steven,
We usually ask most interns to stay on as freelance writers for us, on an as neede [sic] basis. We pay freelance writers per piece, depending on thier [sic] level of expertise. Price per piece starts at $4.
Please let me know if you have any additional questions/concerns.
Izzy
It didn’t make me too confident to see that the guy who’d been judging my writing made two obvious typos in his email.
Izzy,
Does that mean there is no opportunity for full-time employment?
Steven,
There is no full-time employment, as in 9 to 5, rather we work with our writers on a freelance basis.
Thanks,
Izzy
Izzy,
Is the only possible work after the internship to write four-hundred-word reviews at two dollars a pop?
I’m sorry if it sounds like I’m being difficult. I’m just trying to figure out what the incentive is to complete the internship and work with you guys.
Steven,
The incentive is that it’s excellent work experience—you have a chance to learn specific skills (through the workshops) and then apply them in a real life setting and receive feedback. The feedback we receive from interns who have gone all the way to the end has only been positive.
Here is some real feedback from real people:
• Thank you so much for everything! I learned a lot during my time writing with Collective Clicks and truly enjoyed the experience. I appreciate all you did, thanks!
• Thank you so much for all your guidance … have truly enjoyed working with you!
• Thank you so much for this opportunity … I really got a lot out of it, and had a great time, too. :)
This is obviously besides for [sic] getting the certification. I hope that clears things up for you.
Thanks,
Izzy
I now had enough information to take my father’s quiz. Would this work make me happy? No, it would actually make me unhappy. The time spent writing reviews would take away time from doing the writing I was passionate about. Would it make me money? No. It would potentially cost me money. Spending two hours working on a review that paid two dollars was time that could be better spent looking for a real job. Also, I did some research and couldn’t find any evidence that the certificate they were offering held any merit in the business-writing world.
Izzy,
Thanks for the opportunity, but I’m not going to learn anything new from writing twelve more reviews on watches I’ve never seen. I was “accepted” to this internship from “a large pool of people” based on my writing samples, so clearly I don’t need to add fifteen watch reviews to it. This feels to me like a way to exploit new/young writers for cheap labor. Your ad has been removed from Craigslist, but I recall there was mention of a Pioneer Square office, which I can’t find any evidence of. Also, your certificate holds no accreditations in the writing world so that “certificate” means nothing. I guess it’s my own fault for trusting someone named Izzy. Just curious, any chance you rip on rhythm guitar?
Izzy never responded to my email, and I didn’t receive the twelve dollars I earned for the six reviews I’d completed or a certificate stating I was an expert review writer. Instead I was self-certified in identifying internet labor scams, a skill I didn’t feel was relevant to my freelance writer profile, but I did add “detecting internet scams” in the section of things I was good at in my dating profile.
Had I not been so desperate for contact, I’m sure I would have been more cautious and caught on to the ruse after receiving the initial email. The impersonality of it was an obvious cut-and-paste job I should have recognize
d.
At least I’d caught on before wasting any more time on completing the whole course and could focus on important things, like watching Amelie, which just like Freaks and Geeks was a favorite movie of all the girls I dug on the dating site. My only concern was that I might have possibly convinced a discerning aficionado to buy an inelegant watch.
In a Room with a Radio
I got drunk the night before my final interview in an effort to present myself as an undesirable employee. I had advanced through multiple stages of the hiring process while hoping that I would eventually receive an email thanking me for my time, but stating I wasn’t the right person for the job.
I’d applied during one of my job site rampages, when I’d sent my generic cover letter and resume to every new posting on Indeed.com. I was so determined to fulfill my government-mandated job search requirements that I barely looked at the job descriptions and hadn’t realized I applied to a position at Expedia, a company I previously gave four years of my life only to be let go with two days’ notice.
I believed administering twenty-dollar hand jobs under a highway overpass more reputable work than returning to a company that offered no loyalty, but six months on the dole made it difficult to rationalize taking a dive. I boasted about my skills and provided examples of how I contributed at my previous jobs.
“Heck yeah, I know SharePoint,” I said. “At my last job people came to me with all their SharePoint problems. The office prankster even put a ‘SharePoint King’ sign on my cubicle one day when I left early for a dentist appointment.”
“You sound exactly like the type of person we’re looking for,” said the gatekeeper at the end of the hiring labyrinth.
I was offered a short-term contract writing promotional copy for cruise liners and, unlike my previous stint at Expedia, this position was on-site. I turned it down. The lack of job security was enough to convince myself I’d made the right choice. It would only be a matter of time before the gig expired and I returned to the exact same situation. However, I was unaware that my unemployment benefits would halt after answering “yes” on my weekly questionnaire when asked, “Did you refuse any work this week?” It was possible I would have known that had I actually read the unemployment packet I was issued instead of using it as a placemat when eating everything bagels in front of the TV. I was also billed $1,400 in back pay since it took three weeks after I clicked “yes” for my checks to be discontinued.
Now for the Disappointing Part Page 8