Hired but Still Unemployed

Granna, my grandmother, was very sweet, awfully astute, and, usually, mentally alert (for someone her age), but it was sometimes difficult to explain things to her, especially if they were new to her, experimental, or beyond ordinary explanations. I can remember, for example, when I had tried to explain to her things like Internet surfing, tweeting, emailing, online shopping, banking and chess playing, video conferencing, etc. These were things, after all, that had not existed in her world when she was young, spirited, and life-busy.

The latest challenge came when I was at last offered a "job" after a two-year unemployment stint. Granna was not the only one, though, who had difficulty grasping what I was saying.

"Yes, Granna, I found a job, sort of." We were talking on the phone.

"What kind of job did you get, Frankie?"

"I'll be looking for a job full-time but, this time, I'll be getting paid."

"Looking for a job? I thought you said you already found a job."

"I did. My job will be to keep looking for a job."

"But you were doing that already. What fool is going to pay you to look for a job?"

"A rich one, Granna. I met this man who has lots of money to spend and he wants to help some of the people struggling to find a job."

"Then why doesn't he hire them?"

"He is. I'm one of those people. He offered me a job."

"To do what, Frankie. I don't understand."

"To go around looking for a job."

"Frankie, you're my favourite grandson but you wear me out sometimes. Are you just embarrassed to admit you're still unemployed? There is no need to lie to me or to try to impress me. I love you whether you have a job or not."

"I know that, Granna," I said trying my best to reassure her. It was clear though that I was not making too much progress. Maybe I could just let her rest and then call her back next week?

"I'll send you a little something, Frankie. Hang in there. This too shall pass."

"I won't be needing any more money, Granna," I said but, realizing how much it meant for her to help me, I followed with, "but if it makes you feel better to send me a small gift that's fine but please remember that I will be earning my own money as of next week."

"Oh, doing what?"

That is when I told her I had to go. I next called my parents. They had helped me to stay afloat during this long ordeal and I was happy, at last, to remove the awful burden I had laid on them.

"Dad, is Mom right there with you?" When I found out that she was, I prepared to give the good news in the clearest way possible: "Dad, Mom, I was offered a job and will no longer need your financial support as of next week."

"That's great, Son! What type of job did you get and who will you be working for?" Dad sounded excited but Mom was probably jumping up for joy. We were talking using the speaker so we could turn this into a 3-way conversation.

"I'll be working for Rajja Majonga. He won the lottery and is now going around the country hiring long-term unemployed people."

"This Rajja Majonga, what kind of company does he have and what will you be doing for him?"

"He does not have a company per se, Dad. He's just a guy with some newly-found wealth and he wants to do some good with it. So he's going around hiring people."

"To do what, Son? How do you know this is not some kind of pyramid scheme or some other kind of fraud?"

"To go around applying for jobs. He wants me to become a full-time job seeker."

"But you were already that, Son."

"But I wasn't getting paid for it, Dad. He's going to pay me to continue to look for a job."

"That sounds a little screwy to me, Frank," Dad said, perhaps getting annoyed. How do you think I felt by now?

"What's in it for him by having you look for a job, Son? Nobody gives away anything for free."

"He won't be giving anything away. I'll be earning my paycheck. You have no idea how difficult it is to look for a job these days." In Dad's time, you just went places and filled out applications. If they wanted you, you'd be working the next day. These days, they have to run all kinds of background checks on you; then they give you psychological and drug tests; if you get past all that, two or three months after you applied, they hire you on a trial basis to see if you can do the work of what two people were required to do in the past, only these days you make less money, get fewer benefits, and have to prove yourself every day.

"So it's harder to find a job these days but why can't you answer my question. What's in it for this Rajja Molotov?"

"He gets to observe me and to make use of the data I will collect for him."

"What 'data,' Son?"

"On job hunting."

"And he wants to pay you to do that? That makes absolutely no sense."

"Can I talk to Mom now, Dad?" But she did not sound any more peppy or optimistic than Dad had sounded.

"Your Dad has a good sense about these things, Frank Junior. Listen to him. Why would anyone pay someone to look for a job?"

"Cause he can, Mom. Are you saying you don't think I should be taking this job?"

"What job, Frank Junior?" The pitch of her voice kept going higher, an indication that she was getting either frustrated or disappointed.

"To be a professional job seeker."

Dad piped in again: "How much is he proposing to pay you?"

"Fifteen dollars an hour to start, but he will increase that if I can meet his expectations and keep him satisfied."

"And how will you 'meet his expectations,' by the number of jobs you apply for? What happens if one of those jobs you apply for is actually offered to you? Have you considered that?"

"No, I have not," I admitted. The thought hadn't even occurred to me.

"What about the time you'll be wasting of those potential employers and the delays you may cause in letting someone else legitimately interested in finding a job get the interviews that may instead be given to you?"

"I hadn't thought about that either, Dad. I am not saying that I have thought about all the parameters and ramifications of this job opportunity. But I figured you'd be happy to know I had been offered a job."

"We are, Son. It's just that all this sounds a little bit screwy to me."

"And you, Mom, what do you think? Do you agree with Dad that I should question this opportunity to death, possibly leading to Rajja Majonga reneging on the job offer?"

"I think that you should be careful what you get yourself into. Look closely before you leap."

"I always do, Mom. Thank you both for being so supportive." After which, I hung up. I would call them later to apologize. Why was I always the one to apologize, though, even when they were the ones who were out of line?

I next called my sister in Warwick, Rhode Island. She lived in a beautiful house in Conimicut Beach that her well-to-do podiatrist husband had bought for her. Although they had done well financially, she had sort of drifted from the family, mostly because we made fun of the way her husband had earned his "fortune." There were some things that people just should not do to amass a fortune and dealing with smelly feet for the rest of one's life had to be on that list, as well as prostitution, illegal drug dealing, human trafficking, hosting Tupperware parties, peddling Avon products, lobbying for shady special interest groups in Washington, and taking part in any aspect of the pornography industry.

She was happy at first when she heard the news but her "happiness" turned a little bit sour when I tried to give her more information about the "job."

"He is looking for people who have been unemployed for a long time to see if they can continue to keep looking for a job as their main occupation. In return for what he pays us, we are supposed to gather information, conduct research, and keep detailed notes on it all. He then intends to turn all this information into a book or study report."

I wondered why I had not said exactly this to Granna and my parents. It sounded better than what I had said to them. I was surprised, though, to find that Grace was still skeptical.

"Sounds wonderful, Little Brother, if this is on the up and up. Do some background research on this guy before you accept his offer though. Maybe he's just pulling your chain or maybe you'll just become part of some fraudulent scheme. There are plenty of those spin artists around, you know."

Sis was right, of course. I had briefly considered the possibility that all this was not as good as it sounded. After all, how many people want to pay someone else to remain unemployed?

"Okay, I'll see what I can dig up but I don't want to lose this opportunity. I'm not looking forward to doing what I've been doing for the last two years but the idea of getting a regular paycheck again sure sounds wonderful."

"I'm happy for you, Little Brother, if this turns out to be a legitimate job offer. Keep me informed, will you?"

I sat back and began to think about my situation in a new light. A little bit of skepticism is, I must admit, sometimes useful. I did not, however, want to become the cynic other disappointed job seekers had become. The phone rang while I dwelled on these thoughts. It was my older brother calling from California. He was a bit of a clown and was sure to make fun of me when I gave him the latest news.

"Yes, I found a job at last. Someone wants to hire me to be a professional job seeker." There was a long pause on the other end. I could almost hear the inner workings of his twisted, high-spirited mind concocting a major offensive campaign against what he called my youthful naivet©.

"They want to hire you to be perpetually unemployed?"

"That's right."

"And, if you get laid off from this job, will you be able to collect? Can you wait to spring that on one of these stupid state unemployment office employees?"

"Yes, I can wait, but I can certainly see the humour and irony to which you refer."

"'Yes, Ma'am, I was just laid off,'" my brother was mimicking me talking to the unemployment office. "'What job did I just lose? I was paid to be unemployed? What company paid me to do such a thing? Oh, it was no company, just some rich guy. What's that? You can't collect unless it is a legitimate job? Well, this was a legitimate job. What's that, you're sending me to talk to someone higher up? That's mighty kind of you but is this a polite way of telling me I haven't got a prayer in getting unemployment benefits? I will take your office to court, Ma'am. You can be assured of that. I'll not take this lying down.'"

"That's enough, Big Brother. I have to go. I have to call Mom and Dad back. I hung up on them. What's that? No, I'm not mad at you. Yes, I know you're actually happy for me. Yes, I'll let you know how all this pans out. Bye. Will do, thanks. Bye again."

The phone rang again. It was Granna.

"You remember Wanda Atkins, don't you, Frankie? Well, she is opening a nail salon here in town and she says that you can work for her as a manicurist and pedicurist. You'll have to take some classes at the technical college and you'll only be an assistant while you learn the ropes and work for your license but the job is yours if you want it."

"Granna, I told you, I already have a job."

"I remember. Your new job is to continue to be unemployed. That's no life for you, my dear Grandson. Come be a pedicurist. You'll gain your self-respect back in no time. You'll see."

I could see that this was going to be an uphill battle no matter how you looked at it. When I ran into my future wife, she was going to ask what I did for a living. What was I going to say? What about when I filled out credit card, club, church membership, college, and financial aid applications? I was going to have to mark off the "unemployed" box but then I was going to have to explain myself. Clearly, the easy thing would have been to turn down this job but I just could not afford to do that. I was ready to be employed again even if it meant being officially unemployed. Too bad if there were some people out there who were not going to be particularly understanding, sensitive, or supportive! For my part, I intended to be the most efficient, most trustworthy, and hardest-working job seeker who ever lived.

When I told Rajja Majonga my thoughts on the matter, he was ecstatic. "Welcome aboard," he said. "I'm sure that you will be better at being unemployed than anyone else." I agreed with him wholeheartedly. Time, I was sure, would prove me right.