Welcome to Super-Short Storytime, literature listeners and audio aficionados! I am Eduardo Soliz, the composer and narrator of the splendiferously silly story that you are about to hear.
One of the more annoying things about working in a cubicle environment is the fact that you can all-too-easily hear everything your coworkers say. It can also be one of the more hilarious things, and so I present to you this brief business brief that I call: “Overheard.”
It was another lazy afternoon at the office and so I took the opportunity to chat with the new guy. Kenny sat a few desks down from me. He is pretty stocky; dude looks like he used to play football in his younger days. He seems to be a good guy.
“Do you have any pets, Eduardo?” Kenny asked me before taking a swig from a bottle of soda.
“Nah, I have a small apartment and I don’t think it’s big enough for a pet. Yourself?” I replied. Somebody was walking by and I turned to see who it was. It was Valerie, another new hire. Like Kenny, she was also pretty nice. I guess the company figured that one anti-social weirdo was enough after hiring me.
“My fiancé and I have two pugs.” Kenny replied while raising two fingers with his right hand.
*groan* I hope he’s not one of those, I thought, letting out a small ‘hmm’ before asking: “Y’all don’t call them ‘baby’ by chance, do you?”
“Uh, no. Why do you ask?” Kenny asked with a chuckle.
“It’s a test. I’ve noticed that obsessive dog owners tend to call their dogs ‘baby.’ Personally, I think that’s a little nutty, but that’s just me.” I replied.
Unseen to the two of us, Valerie was walking back towards us with a stack of freshly-printed documents in her hands.
“Hey, don’t get me wrong, Ed. They are our babies, but the nice thing is that I can tie my babies up to a tree in the backyard when they misbehave.” Kenny replied enthusiastically.
The sound of papers falling on the floor immediately followed and we turned to see a horrified Valerie looking at Kenny and exclaiming: “OH MY GOD, YOU DO WHAT TO YOUR BABIES?”
I smiled and exclaimed: “And THAT’S how rumors get started!”
Kenny and I enjoyed a hearty laugh before he explained to Valerie that no, he wasn’t tying babies to a tree in his backyard.
Well, not people babies, at least.
I heard the babies Kenny tied up in the backyard were Valerie’s, but you didn’t hear that from me, Dear Listeners! This has been Super-Short Storytime, for more mirthful monologues visit Eduardo Soliz dot com! Thank you for listening! Be Good, Take Care, and God Bless.
Welcome to Super-Short Storytime, literature listeners and audio aficionados! I am Eduardo Soliz, the composer and narrator of the curt Christmas carol that you are about to hear. So, without any further ado, I give you, “Santa’s Prayer”
Thank you for the moms and dads, All doing the best they can, Thank you, Father, for all the kids, In each and every land,
Bless all those children, everywhere, Whose wishes I can’t fulfill, So much pain, fear and loneliness, That I can ever hope to heal,
And so, Dear Father, I do pray For those children in the world, For whom a toy will bring a smile, But who need yet, so much more,
Bless the little ones without families, The ones who cry in pain, Bless the ones who live in war and strife, May they know your peace again,
Bless the hungry ones, so many of them, May their bellies be empty no more, Bless the angry ones, who lash out, May your grace find and make them whole,
Let others find it in their hearts, To take their blessings and share, With some of those who need it most, Fill their hearts with love and care,
And finally, Dear Father, Please bless and hold dear, The parents of all the blessed children, That I will not see next year.”
And then good Santa says “Amen.” Lays down and closes his eyes, To dream of a world where all is just, And children never cry.
Perhaps, as someone once sang: “Someday at Christmas,” Dear Listeners. This has been Super-Short Storytime and I am Eduardo Soliz and I thank you for listening. Be good, take care, God Bless, and a Merry Christmas to you and yours.
Welcome to Super-Short Storytime, Dear Listeners! I am Eduardo Soliz, the author and narrator of the splendidly short story that you are about to hear.
My unhappiness towards my nine-to-five (and my willingness to share it) has gotten to the point where it has become a character trait over the years. But I’m not here to tell how you about much I hate my job. Instead, let me tell you a story about a guy that does enjoy his work. This work-related writing is called: “The Best Job In The World“
A middle-aged man wearing black slacks and a white button-down shirt stood in front of a row of vending machines. He wore an identification card that bore the logo of the Prehistoric World theme park and “Bernard Olson, Accounting” in bold letters underneath that. Bernard idly jingled some change in his right hand while he looked from one machine to the next, carefully considering his options.
“Hey buddy, could you give me a hand, here?” A man’s voice said to his right. Bernard turned to answer and quickly jumped back upon seeing a six and a half foot tall mountain lion standing next to him. His shock quickly turned to relief when he realized that it was a person wearing a costume.
“Oh! You frightened me. ” Bernard said. Bernard hummed to himself as he looked for an identification card on his costumed coworker, who wore a T-shirt with the name “Pappy Puma” on it. Bernard was fairly certain that wasn’t his real name.
After a moment, the mountain lion noticed his confusion and said: “Oh! Sorry about that. I’m Jay.”
“My name is Bernard,” Bernard said quietly. He gingerly shook the large paw that Jay offered.
Jay continued: “If you could help me out, that would be awesome, Bernard. My usual helper is in the infirmary. She’s new to the area and hasn’t gotten used to our wonderful Texas summers yet.”
Bernard nervously looked around to see if there was anyone else nearby that could help in his place.
“Come on, man. I ain’t gonna bite you.” Jay pleaded.
Bernard sighed. “Okay. What do you need me to do?” He asked.
“Help me get this head off. Go around me and unzip the zipper that’s at the back of my neck.” Jay said. He dropped to one knee so that Bernard could more easily reach it.
“Okay.” Bernard said. He walked over behind Jay, and looked at the back of his head. He saw a seam running down the back and followed it to its end, where he saw a zipper’s metal tab sticking out. He grabbed the zipper and slowly pulled it up. Before Bernard had the zipper opened completely, Jay reached up and pulled the mask forward to remove it.
“Whew. That’s better.” Jay said, relieved. Bernard walked around to face him and stared for a moment. Jay was wearing a tight-fitting hood on his head made out of some synthetic material. Only his face, which was red from the heat, was exposed. Jay took the head off and carefully placed it on the floor next to his gym bag.
“What’s that thing on your head?” Bernard asked, motioning at his head with his hands.
Jay looked at him for a moment before realizing what he was referring to. “Oh, the hood? It’s to keep sweat from getting into my eyes and stuff. I’m wearing underclothes made out of the same material, but it can only do so much, you know?”
Bernard nodded in acknowledgement.
“Could you help me get one of these paws off?” Jay asked. “They’re held on by some snaps that are underneath the seam. I could use my teeth, but the folks in the costume department wouldn’t appreciate that.” He extended his right arm towards Bernard, who removed the paw and examined it. Meanwhile, Jay used his now-free hand to remove the other paw and set it on top of his costume’s head.
Bernard peered inside of the paw and quickly drew his face back when he noticed the moisture and the smell coming from it. “Goodness, that’s a lot of sweat.” He observed.
“Yup. Such is the price of fame.” Jay quipped. He was hunched over his gym bag searching inside for something.
“It looks like you have a difficult job, having to wear this all day.” Bernard pondered. “I don’t think that I could do it.” He bent over and carefully placed the costume hand atop of the other one.
“The positives ultimately outweigh the negatives, my friend.” Jay said. He pulled a wallet out of the gym bag, opened it, took out a few bills, then dropped it back into the bag. He stood up, walked over to one of the vending machines and bought a sports drink.
“What positives?” Bernard asked. “You walk around outside in that heavy suit all day, get pushed, kicked and well, abused by children, and I can’t imagine that you get paid very well. No offense intended.”
“None taken.” Jay replied before taking a swig of his drink. “And yeah, all of what you said is true. Those are the negatives. So let me give you some positives: It’s fun to interact with the kids. As far as they’re concerned, I really am a big cat. I get to snarl and meow and purr and be silly and goofy. Sure, some of them will push and kick and shove and cry, but they always walk away happy, and that makes me happy, too.
You know what most people make at their jobs, Bernard? Money. That’s it. Nothing else. Do we need it? Of course we do, that’s the world we live in. But there’s nothing really unique about money. A smart man once sang that ‘money talks, but it don’t sing and dance and it don’t walk.’ Money isn’t special. It’s as common as the dirt on the ground. Just because other folks have more doesn’t make it any less true.
But the smile on a child’s face, the laughter of parents and grandparents as they take a picture, even the dumb giggling coming out of a bunch of nutty college kids. Those things are special. Those are the things that people remember. Sure, lots of other people might make more money than I do, but I make memories. I have the best job in the world because my job is to make people happy.”
“Wow. I never thought of it like that.” Bernard said, surprised. His tone became sad as he continued: “It certainly sounds more enjoyable than my job. I just sit at a desk all day and crunch numbers.”
“Yeah, but your job is important, too, Bernard. If you don’t crunch all those numbers, we don’t get paid, right?” Jay said with a smile. “Sorry for rambling like that, Bernard. I guess I’ll head over to the locker room and get out of this suit.”
“Oh, so your day is over?” Bernard asked.
“Without a handler, it is.” Jay explained. “The costume head severely limits my vision, so I have to have a handler nearby to help me get around, keep an eye out for kids and to make sure that we don’t stay outside for too long, but unless Angela gets out of the infirmary soon, I’m done for the day.”
“Now that’s unfortunate.” Bernard said. He checked his watch. “There are still several hours until the park closes.”
“Well, them’s the breaks.” Jay mused. He started to gather his things together. “It’s been good talking to you, man. Thanks for the assist.”
“Wait a second. What if I was your handler?” Bernard asked.
“Huh. I’d appreciate the assist, but won’t you get in trouble?” asked Jay.
“It’ll be okay. Besides, I can always make more money tomorrow.” Bernard said.
“That’s the spirit! Come on, Bernie, let’s go make some memories!” Jay exclaimed. With smiles on their faces and springs in their steps, the pair headed off to ‘work.’
It may be cliche to say that “money isn’t everything,‘ Dear Listeners, but that doesn’t make it any less true for some folks. Personally, I would love to have a job where I make something besides money, but for now, money will have to do. This has been Super-Short Storytime! If you’d like me to tell your story, send an email to email@example.com
Thank you for listening! Be Good, Take Care, and God Bless.
Welcome to Super-Short Storytime, Dear Listeners! I am Eduardo Soliz, the author and narrator of the terrifically tiny tale that you are about to hear:
While it can be nice to run into someone that you’ve not seen in many years, there are times when you find out just why it was you lost touch. One such meeting is the focus of this nonsensical narration that I call: “Reunion.”
“Are you Shawn Cook?” A timid voice asked.
Shawn turned around at the sound of his name, taking care not to upset the cup of coffee he held in one hand or strike any passers-by with the briefcase he carried in the other. The well-dressed businessman glanced over the source of the question with narrowed eyes. Before him stood a small man with dark unkempt hair wearing a lab coat. He held what appeared to be a ray-gun from an old science-fiction movie in one hand. The small man peered back at Shawn from behind a pair of thick glasses.
“Richard? Richard Wave from Central High? Class of ‘98?” Shawn guessed.
A crooked smile lit up Shawn’s face. “Wow! Long time no see, Tricky Dick!” Richard winced at the nickname and raised the ray-gun at Shawn, who continued his taunting. “Ooo, what are you going to do, disintegrate me?” He scoffed. Richard pulled the ray-run’s trigger. A blue beam of energy shot from its end and struck Shawn in the stomach. The businessman yelled in pain as his body quickly began to freeze. Onlookers and passers-by panicked at the sight of Shawn’s body turning to ice, many running away screaming in terror. Within seconds, Shawn’s body was completely frozen.
“I always hated that name.” A frowning Richard said in a low voice. He lowered the freeze gun and placed it into a coat pocket. Content that the gun was secure, the small man leapt towards Shawn’s frozen body and shoved into it as hard as he could with his shoulder. The frozen body toppled over onto the sidewalk and shattered into countless pieces, casting the crowd into an even further panic.
Richard calmly pulled out a pad and a pen from his coat, ignoring the panicked screams that he had long become accustomed to hearing. He flipped to a familiar page with a list of names and let out a contented sigh before messily scribbling over the name “Shawn.”
The mad scientist read the next name on the list quietly to himself: “Meghan.” Richard closed his eyes and released a wistful sigh. A twisted smile then appeared on his face and he said aloud to no one in particular: “Oh, dearest Meghan. It’s been too long, or perhaps, not long enough! Hee-hee-hee!”
If you don’t have anything nice to say to someone, Dear Listeners, don’t say anything at all, and if they happen to have a freeze gun, you might want to start running for your life. This has been Super-Short Storytime. Visit Eduardo Soliz dot com for more fantastically flashy fiction, and I hope it isn’t too long before we meet again, Dear Listeners!
Welcome to Super-Short Storytime, dear listeners! I am Eduardo Soliz, the author and narrator of the wonderfully weird words that you are about to hear:
Folks that don’t work at home are often envious of those that do. Creative people in particular are often told that they are, quote, ‘very lucky,’ to work from home, but what most people don’t realize is that doing so comes with challenges of it’s own. I call this brief book-writer’s battle: “A Runaway Tale”
The writer sat behind her computer, typing away while her latest novel-in-progress sat next to her keyboard. Her novel, a one hundred and fifty page book, dangled its stubby legs over the edge of her desk and lazily swung them back and forth.
“Just a few more paragraphs to go, and I’m done, right?” The novel asked impatiently.
“Not quite. You’ll be a first draft.” The writer answered.
“Really? What else is there to do?” The novel asked, its curiosity now piqued.
“Let’s see,” the writer said, placing a hand under her chin to think for a moment. “I have to fix grammar and spelling errors, make sure you don’t have any plot holes, fill them in if there are any, cut out any extra exposition that isn’t needed…” The writer started to explain before the novel interrupted her.
“Time out! What’s this about cutting?” The novel said, now clearly agitated. “I think I’m just fine the way I am.”
“Mmm, no.” The writer insisted. “We have a ways to go before you’re done, so calm down and let’s get back to work.”
“You are NOT cutting anything out of me!” The novel cried before jumping off the desk and landing on the floor in between the writer’s feet.
The writer awkwardly reached under her chair with both hands in an attempt to retrieve the novel. “Darn it! Get back here!” She demanded. The novel eluded her grasp and ran across the floor. It looked back and forth, unsure of just where to go, but it was certain that it wanted to get as far away from its creator as it could.
“Will you just relax?” The frustrated writer said. She stood up from her desk while the novel scurried to hide behind a couch. The writer looked about the room briefly before yelling: “It’s part of the writing process!”
The writer heard rustling behind the couch. She tiptoed up to it, being careful to make as little noise as possible.
From behind the couch, the novel nervously blurted out: “Don’t mind me! I’ll just be here holding up the short leg of the couch! You can forget about me, now!” It pleaded.
“Oh no, I’m not going through that again. Not after that one time you hid yourself under my other projects.” The writer replied. She placed both hands on one of the couch’s armrests and shook it in order to frighten the novel.
“Stop that! You’re going to make me sheet myself!” The frightened novel cried.
The writer stopped shaking the couch. She crossed her arms across her chest, impatiently blew a few stray strands of hair from one eye and asked: “Just what is your problem?”
“I’m scared! You’re going to cut me up into little pieces and scatter my pages to the four winds! I’m perfect just the way I am!” The novel insisted.
The author groaned to herself and thought for a moment. She spoke again, but softened her tone in order to coax her wayward work from its hiding place. “Look, you’re a rough draft, sweetie. You’re raw and full of potential, but before we send you to the printer I have to trim you down, tone you up and make you pretty! Every novel goes through this and you know what? They all come out looking better in the end. Trust me, when we’re done, everybody is going love you.” She reassured.
“Well, when you put it that way, it doesn’t sound THAT bad…” The novel said thoughtfully. “Okay, let’s do it! Make me awesome!” It cheerfully said before walking out from behind the couch to be picked up by the author.
Yeah, guess I better not tell it about the editor,the author thought to herself with a grin as he carried her now-relieved novel back to her desk.
Given that my works are short in nature, I can’t imagine it would be easy to have to chase down a few sheets of paper, Dear Listener. This has been Super-Short Storytime! Visit eduardosoliz.com for more stories and podcasts, and remember: Working from home is still working!
Welcome to Super-Short Storytime, fellow fans of flash fiction! I am Eduardo Soliz, the writer and narrator of the splendidly short story that you are about to hear.
Something that one quickly discovers upon purchasing a home is that keeping it up can be a lot of work. Like many of you, I found any work involving its exterior particularly tiring and time-consuming, with mowing the lawn being the most unpleasant. Fortunately, in addition to exercise, a nice looking lawn, and a few wasp stings, all of those hours spent behind the lawn mower resulted in this tiny tale of toil that I call: “Lawn Care.”
It was another fine Saturday morning, and once again, I was spending it mowing the grass in my backyard. As was usually the case, I had waited too long, so after a half hour, both my lawn mower and I were huffing and puffing under the strain of foot-tall weeds. I stopped to catch my breath for a moment, when I thought heard a voice. I turned around. Nobody was there. Huh. I stood still and listened for the voice, and again it came.
“Hello?” A soft voice said, but it was coming from…below me? I looked down and saw a rabbit sitting on the grass staring back at me. I looked over it for some sign that it was a toy; a seam, glass eyes, or weird colors. Nothing. As far as I could tell, this was a real live rabbit, just one that could talk.
“Hello?” I replied. I slowly raised a hand and waved my fingers at the bunny, not wanting to frighten it. To be honest, I was feeling a little frightened myself!
The bunny gasped. “You can talk.” She said, her mouth and eyes opening wide in astonishment.
“You can talk?” I replied. Okay, this is weird.
The bunny blinked, shook her head slightly, and regained her composure. “Oh! We wanted to ask: Why do you kill the grass?” She asked.
“Kill the grass?” I asked back.
“Yes. You kill the grass. What you are doing right now.” The bunny nodded her head towards the freshly-mowed area I had just finished.
I thought about my words for a moment, doing my best to simplify the concept: “I cut the grass to make it short.” I put a hand on my chest to emphasize my next point. “We also don’t like some kinds of grass, like the skinny ones with the yellow flowers on top.”
The bunny recoiled in shock, her ears folding back. “But those are yummy!” She insisted. “We like the tall grass because we can hide there and be safe. Short grass is…” She closed her eyes tightly and shuddered. “scary.”
I waved a hand out over the portion of the yard that had been cut and said: “Well, people like me think it looks prettier when the grass is short.”
The rabbit gazed back at me with wide eyes and asked: “But aren’t we pretty, too?”
I don’t mow the lawn anymore. You know, I haven’t seen any dandelions around, either.
I live alone, Dear Listener, so I don’t know if ‘because of the bunnies’ would work as a good excuse for not cutting your grass. That said, you are more than welcome to try. This has been Super-Short Storytime! Visit eduardo soliz dot com for more stories and podcasts and remember: Talking bunnies are people, too!
Welcome to Super-Short Storytime, literature listeners and audio aficionados! I am Eduardo Soliz, the creator and narrator of the wonderfully weird story that you are about to hear.
This story was influenced by my time spent working in customer service. As much as I’d like to ‘get over it’ and move on, the general public have provided me with WAY too much story material in order for me to do so. I call this cursory client conversation: “Future Service”
“Your call is very important to us, sir, and a technical support representative will be on the line with you shortly.” a female voice said over the communicator.
“Yeah, really important, that’s why I’ve been on hold for fifteen minutes…” the caller muttered as he paced back and forth.
“I apologize, sir. Is there anything I can do for you while we wait? Is there anything you would like to talk about?” asked the voice on the phone.
“No, that’s fine.” The caller said. He stopped his pacing as he came to an unpleasant realization. “Wait, have you been on the line all this time?” he asked.
“Yes, sir, it is our policy to never transfer customers to an automated system.” The rep replied with an air of pride. “We have learned that interacting with a live representative prior to speaking with a technical support specialist improves the overall customer experience.”
“So your job is to just sit there and talk to me?” The dumbfounded caller asked.
“Yes sir.” The woman replied.
“And you can’t do anything at all to get my problem fixed?” The caller said, his voice beginning to waver slightly.
The woman took on a condescending tone when she answered: “I’m afraid not, sir. I am here to keep you company and ease your frustrations until a qualified technical support specialist becomes available, in about…” She paused as she checked her screen. “Twenty minutes. This new system has improved our efficiency and greatly improved customer satisfaction. Are you still there, sir?”
“Yes. So whenever I call this number, I will always get a person?”
“That is correct,” the woman cheerfully replied.
The android finally reached his breaking point. He slammed a metal fist onto his dining room table and yelled into the communicator: “SO WHAT DO I HAVE TO DO TO GET A MACHINE AROUND HERE?!”
Like the old saying goes, you can’t make everybody happy. Perhaps one day some company somewhere will perfect customer service over the phone. Until then, we’ll have to “hold” on as best we can.
This has been Super-Short Storytime! Visit eduardo soliz dot com for more stories and free e-book downloads, and remember, listeners: Your call may be recorded for quality assurance, but that doesn’t mean it’ll be listened to!
Leave the real world behind for a few minutes by listening to “Super-Short Storytime” at EduardoSoliz.com/podcasts or find it on your favorite podcast app. And now, on with the show…
You are listening to ‘300 Seconds with Eduardo Soliz,’ and this is episode number 97, “Job Search Blues: Job Fairs,” so let the 300 Seconds begin!
I spent the last episode talking about what a big pain in the posterior looking for and applying for a job online can be. Fortunately, there is a place where you can go to shake hands, speak to a real person, and get that personal touch. The job fair, which is in itself a different level of hell.
I should start out by saying that my experiences are colored by the fact that I am looking for a job in Information Technology, and in general, job fairs tend to suck for IT jobs. At a small job fair, I’ll consider myself lucky if just ONE of the businesses is looking for any sort of IT position. If more than one company at a job fair is looking for a technical support guy or a programmer, I’m thinking that I need to buy a lottery ticket because it’s my lucky day.
Unfortunately, when companies do drag their IT guys out of the basement and put them in front of people, they get to experience how socially inept they can be. I’ve had multiple awkward moments at job fairs with IT people, possibly because I’ve been told by people I’ve worked with that I sometimes come off as intimidating.
One person refused to look me in the eye after I let him know what I thought of their pay rates. Another one froze up after I handed my resume to him and introduced myself. So yeah, my people skills might use a little fine-tuning.
And then there are those instances when the IT guys can’t be dragged out of the basement and so I get to spend a few minutes trying to talk shop to a HR gal or a supervisor that has no earthly idea what I’m saying. Those conversations often end with the company representative telling me to go to their website and apply there…whichcompletely defeats the point of the job fair.
I also love it when I walk up to a company’s table and the representative just starts blabbing away about their wonderful company and how wonderful it would be to work for them and how much they love it there and blah blah blah. After their delightful speech, when I’m finally able to get a word in, I let them know that I’m looking for a computer job. At that point, the air gets completely sucked out of the room when they sheepishly say: “Oh. We aren’t hiring for computer people.” So maybe you should ask me what kind of job I’m looking for before you give me the sales pitch, guys, I’m just saying.
Job fairs are a good idea in general, but for folks looking to hire computer professionals, they don’t seem to work as well as they should. Or maybe it’s just me. It definitely wouldn’t be the first time!
This has been 300 Seconds, the next episode will be posted after I register for the next job fair. I am Eduardo Soliz. For more podcasts, and short fiction, and my blog, visit EduardoSoliz.com and thank you for listening!
A quick note before I begin: This episode was written prior to my being hired at my current job. And now, on with the show:
This is ‘300 Seconds with Eduardo Soliz,’ and this is episode number 96, “Job Search Blues: Job Hunting on the Internet,” so let the 300 Seconds begin!
Complaining about one’s job is practically an American tradition, and I am certainly more than happy to let anyone within earshot know how I feel about my nine-to-five. I am currently in between jobs, and since I don’t have a job to complain about at the moment, I am going to spend the next few episodes complaining instead, about the delightful process of finding a job in this here 21st Century.
On the surface, looking for a job should be a breeze these days. Instead of flipping through want ads in the newspaper, we now have an overabundance of job websites out there that will be more than happy to take your resume and shoot it away to the four corners of the Earth. Instead of driving to an office and leaving a resume at the HR department, each company now has their own website that is more than likely is run by someone like Taleo or workday. Hooray for progress.
Monster.com, indeed.com, careerbuilder.com, dice.com…to see their advertisements, you would think that they all have the job of your dreams waiting for you. Just set up your account, upload your resume, and the job of your dreams will soon be yours!
As someone once famously said: Don’t believe the hype.
On paper, a job board is a Good Thing: It’s a place where, thanks to the Power Of The Internet, you can now search for an exact job title with an exact salary, within an exact number of miles from our home and find exactly what you’re looking for…maybe. I’ve done some programming, so I do know how dicey sorting through a database can be, but there’s gotta be SOMETHING in these algorithms that says: “Hey, this person has a Bachelor of Science degree in Computer Science and over a decade of IT experience: Maybe they aren’t terribly interested in construction jobs.” Or how when I look for ‘technical support’ jobs, I get job listings for pharmacy technicians and veterinary technicians. Forget “artificial intelligence,” we need “artificial common sense.”
Since the job boards kinda suck, instead you decide to skip the middleman and visit the website of a company that you would like to work for. If you’re lucky, there will be a link that says “Careers” on the home page that takes you directly to a page with a link that takes you to the job listings. If you aren’t lucky, you to see get a webpage full of stock photos of happy people that probably don’t work at the company at all. This page will list all of the departments, the cities, the benefits, the descriptions of jobs and maybe one or two testimonials from real employees. Also: Real attractive employees, companies don’t want you to think they hire ugly people. You will then spend at least a minute trying to a link to the actual jobs.
Once you find the specific job that you are looking for, the fun part begins: The Application. Step one is always straightforward: Your personal information. Cool. Step two: Upload your resume. Okay. Now type in your work history, that is, all the information that is on your resume. Yeah. Even though you’ve just sent them an electronic copy of your resume, they want to you hand-type all of that same information into their system. But that’s not the worst part. The worst part is that larger employers don’t have their own job sites, instead they use a third party like Taleo or Workday, and they both SUCK. They suck because if you apply to multiple companies that use one of those third party sites, you get to re-type in the same information FOR EACH FUCKING COMPANY. At this point in my career I have probabl about a dozen Taleo profiles and a half-dozen for Workday. How hard would it be for those guys to let me enter my profile ONCE and just re-submit it to different companies? I’m just sayin.
Of course, after you have checked every box, selected every option, filled out every field, and clicked ‘Submit,’ then there’s the waiting. And along those lines, this is the end of the epsode
This has been 300 Seconds, the next episode will be posted after I type in eighteen years of job experience into an application website…again . I am Eduardo Soliz, if you’d like to hear more 300 seconds subscribe via your favorite podcatcher and check out my website at Eduardo Soliz dot com for more. Thank you for listening!