"Yeah," Adam replied.
"And?" Jane pressed.
"And what?" Adam spat back.
"How can you live like this? You're a pig!" Jane cried to no reaction from her son. "So, what did you think about what I sent you?"
"How's that?" Jane asked skeptically. "They are looking for someone with a high school diploma and two years of retail experience. You worked at the Gap for three years during high school, so you know how to fold shirts and pants. Not that anyone would know it by looking at your swamp of dirty clothes on the floor."
"Ma, I'm overqualified," Adam screamed. "Just leave it alone."
"Don't take that tone with me young man! You are thirty years old and living in my house, so show me some respect," Jane demanded. "A job is a job and you need an income."
"Ma, I'm a fucking Harvard Law School graduate. I was in the top ten percent of my class. I had offers from every blue chip firm on Wall Street. I have three years of corporate securities experience. I'm overqualified to be a stockroom inventory clerk at fucking Filene's Basement," Adam bellowed.
"Well, you live in a basement so..." Jane offered in attempt at injecting levity into the situation.
"You're hilarious!" Adam replied returning to perusing the search results on www.lawcareersfortheunemployed.com.
"Excuse me?" Adam queried scowling at his mother.
"Well you were part of the team that advised Lehman Brothers that asset-backed securities and credit default swaps were kosher," Jane replied. "Forget I said anything. That was the past. So you were a big deal for a little while. Now, you are no different than all of those innocent people swindled out of their life-savings from the fallout of the collapse of the economy. But, the reality is that you have no money, you have no home and you have no prospects in your profession of choice. Instead of wallowing in self-pity, you need to pull up your bootstraps, find a job even if it only pays minimum wage, shower, put on some clean clothes and become a contributing member of society."
"Thanks for the pep talk Ma," Adam muttered.
"Are you out of your fucking mind?" You've just told me I'm a bottom-feeding pig who was instrumental in destroying the global economy, ruining the lives of millions. Your advice is that I should get a job doing anything that pays me minimum wage for which I'm overqualified as a result of wasting eight years of my life getting an Ivy League education for which I'm in debt up to my eyeballs. At what point in your motivational speech to me to boost my self-confidence did the idea that any of my current qualities that you have just described would be attractive to a person of the opposite sex?" Adam inquired rhetorically.
"Don't forget to clean up your room. I'm not your maid, not that you could afford one," Jane sighed as she left Adam's room.
Attention Unemployed: Are you highly educated? Hold multiple degrees in any of the areas of: law, finance, science or engineering? Are you literate and enjoy reading about current events, especially those concerning politics and the economy? Are you goal-oriented? Are you a natural born leader? Do you have good hand-eye coordination? Small fingers? Do you know how to ‘google’? Are you good at asking questions, but know how to follow instructions without question? Can you read a recipe? Do you like watching movies? Looking to work in a collegial team environment that allows for the spotlight to shine on your individuality and sense of independence? Look no further because we have the job for you! Please send us your resume by e-mail to: email@example.com with an explanation of what makes you ideally suited for this opportunity. In anticipation of an interview, and kindly note we interview every candidate who applies, you should prepare by watching old episodes of MacGyver, Perry Mason, the A-Team and The French Chef, and spend a few hours per day playing the following video games: Duck Hunt, Gang Wars, World Domination, Grand Theft Auto, Air Force Delta Strike and Trauma Center: Second Opinion. This job will earn the respect from your family and peers that you so richly deserve, give you a sense of belonging, restore your self-esteem, which will help you meet women, and offers a competitive salary, benefits package and bonus.
With great haste, Adam e-mailed his resume to the address provided, buoyed by the prospect that after submitting several thousand applications, finally he would be guaranteed an interview. Confidence somewhat restored, Adam half-smiled at the prospect of a face-to-face meeting, as he knew he always blossomed in front of an interviewer. Adam’s optimism grew as the notifying 'ping' from his e-mail notified him that he had mail.
Thank you for submitting to us your very impressive resume. We are quite eager to meet you and wondered if it would not be too presumptuous to inquire if you are able to come to our office tomorrow for an interview? Our address is 1351 Price Street and we would be delighted to meet with you at 3:00p.m. Please advise.
Not wasting time, Adam replied with alacrity accepting the scheduled offering. Recognizing that the disheveled state of his bedroom would require extensive excavation in order to unearth a clean, unwrinkled suit to wear for the interview, he called upon his loving and supportive mother to look for one. Adam set about preparing furiously for the interview, which was in less than one day's time, per the advertisement's instructions. Plus, he still had to shave and shower. Flush with Red Bull coursing through his veins and a double hit of his ADHD medication, Adam spent the next eighteen hours without a speck of sleep sourcing and watching reruns of the delineated television series online and playing the required video games, which he borrowed from his younger brother. Semi-fresh, shaven and clean, Adam left the day of the interview confident that he would transcend his avocation drought and return home cocksure with fresh employment in hand.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Adam," Mila said cheerfully from behind the reception desk in the offices of 1351 Price Street. "Won't you please sit down? Mr. George will be with you momentarily."
"Thanks, but you can just call me 'Adam'," Adam replied taking a seat on a well worn in sofa.
"Mila, please send in Mr. Adam," a static and muffled voice ordered via the intercom.
"Please Mr. Adam, through the first door on your left," Mila instructed. Adam took leave of the sofa striding assuredly into Mr. George's office.
"Thank you, but please, call me Adam, Mr. George."
"Ok. And you may call me Mr. George. So let's begin as I have many questions for you. First, how would you describe yourself?"
"Well, I would say that I am a highly educated lawyer, who stood at the top of my class at Harvard and is willing to work hard to achieve success," Adam offered.
"I grew up watching The A-Team, so I've seen every episode. But, I did see approximately ten episodes of each of Perry Mason and The French Chef," Adam replied.
"I liked the one where he uses an army knife, duct tape, a broken light bulb and a paperclip to blow up a helicopter," Adam replied knowing that he had only ever seen two episodes of MacGyver in his life.
"Chocolate," Adam advised deadpan to no reaction. "Ha, ha, I was only kidding. Perhaps, it is that I have too liberal a sense of humour."
"There is nothing funny in the work we do here," Mr. George retorted. "There are serious ramifications if you do not carry out your assigned tasks."
"I'm sorry, you misunderstood me. I take my work very seriously, but sometimes I like to make jokes to ease the tension," Adam offered.
"Ah, I see. I, too, like to make with the funny, but only on special occasions," Mr. George replied. "Perhaps this is a weakness that you can control?"
"How many hours do you normally work?" Mr. George queried. "I make this inquiry because this is more than just a job, it is a lifestyle."
"As many as the job requires," Adam advised.
"How do you handle stress and pressure?"
"As you know, the world economy collapsed as a result of a series of securities that flooded the market that had little to no value," Adam whispered.
"You mean credit-default swaps?" Mr. George interrupted.
"So, you are the one who helped to unravel the U.S. and western World economies," Mr. George whispered audibly to himself. "Impressive."
"You're the first person to acknowledge the magnitude of what happened in such a positive manner," Adam said with surprise.
"Nothing," Adam replied. "I've been living in my mother's basement, not working and not earning a dime for close to two years now. I am desperate for work, as many Americans are."
"I respect that fact, but I also did not want to demean my education, abilities and expertise. I truly believe that there is a position out there that requires my skill set," Adam stated emphatically. "Based upon the information in your advertisement, I think that this job suits my experience. By the way, can you please give me some more details on what the job entails?"
"Let me see your hands," Mr. George instructed ignoring Adam's question. Mr. George beamed as he noted the slender, yet stubby nature of Adam's delicate fingers. "Are you willing to travel?"
"How do you feel about lifetime job security?" Mr. George asked.
"I'd love it!"
"Um, no," Adam replied hesitantly. "Have you?"
"Oh yes, several times. In fact, if you accept the job, it will be part of your training," Mr. George explained. "What are your salary requirements?"
"How do you feel about alternative sources of remuneration" Mr. George asked paying no heed to Adam’s question.
"It depends on what you mean by 'alternative.' If you mean a comprehensive package that includes a lower base salary because there is a large bonus based on job performance, plus all expenses paid, generous vacation entitlement and a comprehensive medical-dental plan, then yes, I would be happy with such 'alternative' sources of remuneration," Adam advised.
"What will you do if you don't get this position?" Mr. George asked.
"More of that humour," Mr. George noted. "Is there anything I haven't told you about the job or company that you would like to know?"
"Well I'd like more details on the actual job. Also, why did I need to watch 'The French Chef'?" Adam inquired.
"And Perry Mason?"
"To learn how to withstand cross-examination techniques," Mr. George replied.
"Not really since we offer lifetime job security," Mr. George replied.
"Don't you want to know what was it like working for my last supervisor?" Adam queried.
"How do you evaluate success?" Adam inquired.
"I think so," Adam said hesitantly as the job sounded almost too good to be true.
"Congratulations! You are the newest member of our sleeper cell's covert guerrilla task force. All of your meals, accommodation, medical coverage and travel will be paid for by the company. Upon the completion of your mission, you will become the hero you've always wanted to be, which will garner the respect and recognition of your family and friends that has been elusive to date," Mr. George advised joyously. "More importantly, when you transcend your planar existence, you will be rewarded with the commission of seventy-two vestal virgins."
"I'm confused. What is the exact job title?" Adam vacillated.
"Suicide Bomber to be precise," Mr. George touted.
Adam bolted from Mr. George's office at supersonic speed, faster than the speed at which Felix Baumgartner broke the sound barrier when he skydived from space, noting that he needed to quickly find the nearest FBI bureau in order to enter the Witness Protection Program.