The Laconic Inkdrop

"He that uses many words for the explaining any subject doth, like the cuttlefish, hide himself for the most part in his own ink." John Ray

Tag: college graduates

Why’s the Time ALWAYS Gone?

First things first: I give a thousand thanks to the lady at Store One who–after I explained the site’s malfunctioning and the inconvenience of filling out an in-store kiosk application–made a kind exception for me and gave me a hard copy of the job application this past weekend.

My six-month grace period for my student loans terminates at the end of June. I’m calling my creditors tomorrow morning. Here’s to hoping they won’t truss me up and hang me over the entry-way to their office.


It originally said, “Debtors, ye be warned,” but Gore Verbinski liked the imagery so much, they filmed it and airbrushed it to say “pirates” instead. Go ask Johnny Depp if you don’t believe me.


“The Wheel Is Turning But the Hamster Is Dead”–in graphics

If you hear these kinds of questions from a grandparent, other relatives, or from good friends of the family, don’t blow them off and/or storm out of the room, even though you are sick to death of hearing them over and over again. That’s not nice. They keep asking because they care. (I’m preaching to myself here.)

However, feel free to show these illustrations to the next financially secure/employed shmo that asks you one (or all) of the following half-baked questions:

  • “Can’t you find a job?” or “Can’t you find a better job than that? I thought that’s what you went to college for.”
  • “Can’t you just relocate to find a job?” or “Can’t you just save up your money to move?”
  • “Why do you think they didn’t hire you?”


Store One Redux

Remember that awesome printable  job form I found for Store One earlier? After all the drama with  the online applications?

I printed it out on our nicest, 28 lb. paper and started filling it out with a confident, black gel-ink pen.  Happy as a lark, I was.

I get to Section 2, Box 3. “For store management or office based opportunities at our Regional or  Geelong National Office, please refer to our website*” .au. The cognitive dissonance  isn’t buzzing the alarms yet. Maybe Store One’s main office isn’t in the U.S. Moving on.

I wonder why the application didn’t ask for details about my college education. Ok, odd,  but…moving…on….

Alright, Section 6, character references! Only it’s calling them “referees.” Well that’s interesting.  “Referee’s organisation.” With an s. I suppose a British person wrote the form.

Section 7 asks me four very good questions (to which I give well-thought-out, honest answers):

  • “What do you perceive as good customer service?”
  • “What are some of your traits that makes you an ideal candidate for a customer service position?”
  • “What does teamwork mean to you?”
  • “Why do you believe safety is important in the workplace?”

Section 8 is about rights to work . . . for Australians.

This is just a typo. And I assume there must be a lot of Australians coming to the States and they . . . really must like working at Store One, who felt it was necessary to include this on the form.

Section 10. Oh, that section where you have that brief, queasy, cold-palms moment when you feel like you’re signing your soul away and if you made one minute mistake in filling everything out, they’ll drag you away to everlasting perdition.

I’ve spent an hour filling out an application to work at Store One in Australia.

I’d love to go to Australia. I really would. That’s where all the hotties are. Also, there’s koalas and those lovely landscapes. But the timing’s all wrong, beautiful Australia. It’s not you. It’s me.

*Not a working link. As you’ve discovered, I am sure.

Second-Rate Villains Don’t Get Foiled as Much as I Do

I was ambitious this morning and tried to apply online for jobs at Store One and Store Two*. Their websites won’t let me into their system after I’ve gone through the account set-up process.

They’re dangling the jobs right in front of my nose: “Ooh lookie-lookie, here’s a job! You want the job? Nope–can’t have it! Oh-oh, here’s another job, right here, get it get it–nope! Can’t have it!”

I checked and triple-checked my spelling, I restarted my computer, thinking maybe it was me or my internet connection, and I even used my mother’s computer.

On site One, I asked five times for a new password, was given a cheery, “We’ll send you a new one within 30 minutes!” and never got it.  Started a new account and then was told I didn’t exist in their system. Tried the old one again and finally got in.  And the “Start” button is still broken. EVERY relevant button is broken.

Five times on site Two I received an icy “Invalid login. Please try again.” Upfront rejection is so much better than beating around the bush, you know?

Fortunately, I found a printable version of the Store One’s job application form. Store Two has no printable form. I take solace in the fact that in a sudden apocalyptic destruction of the internet and/or the rebellion of artificial intelligence, Store Two will be the first to succumb to utter desolation, while I survive because I still know how to use pen and paper. Haha, Store Two. Haha.


*Names changed to protect myself from not getting said jobs or getting fired if the manager(s) stumble across my blog.

Hello, world!

Welcome to Nemesis Watching, named for the Greek goddess of retribution and justice. The quote at the top comes from Mesomedes’ “Hymn to Nemesis.”

I’m one of the 1.5 million, unemployed college graduates. It’s not only my story. It’s all of our stories, just from a different vantage point on the runaway train.