Monster, the Beaver and Nigerian Princes

In employment desperation, you'll often post your resume on anything. A telephone pole, a bathroom stall, even Monster.com. This is what I did. After some disgusting, but expected calls from folks taking a crap, I removed the bathroom readings and I should have removed it from Monster.


I worked and worked on my resume, cutting it down, moving things around, throwing it at my dogs who gleefully tore it up. At least they were having fun at my expense, better than, let's call my former employer "GW" (insecure, indecisive, vindictive with delusions of intelligence). Before I regale you with GW stories, let me get back to the tale at hand.


After posting my resume on Monster, a significant increase in my spam folder occurred. I tolerated this in hopes that that brass ring was coming my way. As I deleted and deleted, I saw a promising email. It was full of praise about my accomplishments. They felt me qualified to...wait for it...sell insurance. I read through the well crafted yet generic letter and responded with a thank you, but no thanks. I moved on and deleted and deleted.


Soon, I was receiving more and more insurance letters praising my skills and experience. It felt as if the Nigerian Insurance Prince(ss) had gotten a hold of my Monster resume and decided to put me on speed dial. Sure enough, she eventually did call! My brass ring had arrived. She said she saw my resume on Monster and decided to give me a call. She said there was a future for me with her company, they were growing fast and wanted me to be a part of their team! I was ready to say "Yes", when I asked, "by the way, what do you do?" I guess I knocked her off her script and she blurted out the dead-knell: sell insurance.


The moral of this story kids: Be like the Beaver on the Monster commercial. He plays his fiddle for folks, enters "Violinist" into Monster's search engine, takes the bus to the city, where he plays on street corners, subway platforms, dance clubs and finally gets an audition. He gets his own concert and ends up in the back of a limo's hot tub with a skanky blond. Nowhere in the commercial is it made clear that Monster actually helped the little fella'. Save yourself the spam, the insurance vultures and Nigerian Princes, keep applying, don't sell yourself short, and you never know, you too can end up with a skanky blond.