Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred job applications

Ok, not really. But you have applied for 42 jobs. Here's some more employment math: You've received two nice rejection emails, one rejection phone call, and zero interviews. It's like a countdown, except at the end, instead of a rocket taking off, you have a cocktail.

Did you know that all the fixings for turkey sandwiches for every meal for one week are only $13? Also, if you feel guilty stealing the internet at a coffee shop without buying anything, the cheapest drink is generally a small iced tea. And you won't run out of gas driving across town with the needle below empty.

And no matter how much debt in graduate student loans you carry, you still aren't qualified to work at the make-up counter at Macy's. Not even as the person who takes the inventory.

But you're alive. You're alive, and you have some amazing friends and family. So there's that. At least there's that.

Of Steaks and Unemployment

The unemployment rate in Las Vegas is the highest in any metropolitan area in the nation. 14.8 % baby.

I was in the neighborhood of my previous roommate's business yesterday, and I decided to stop in to stay hello. He's a few months shy of hosting a 400-guest wedding, so I expected him to be frazzled. Instead of jumping first to tell me about the $900 he spent on party favors, he told me he'd had to fire five employees last week for stealing out of the register. He works in the steak-peddling business as the general manager of the local office of a popular national chain. He'd caught them on camera pocketing the change of customers paying in cash. They'd been hired recently as seasonal employees.

"Oh, great," I told him. "I need a new job!"

But he'd already been able to replace all of them this week. He's a great manager and can tell within a few minutes of meeting a potential hiree whether they're a good fit. After a short interview, he tells you if you're hired.

Many people applied to fill the empty positions. No one in Vegas is currently hiring. On Monday, he hired a woman in her 50s who had applied everywhere to no avail. He told her she got the job. A job that pays less than $10 an hour. It requires heavy lifting and touching raw meat. It's only seasonal, through January. She cried happy tears. She jumped up and down and danced.

I'd like to bet, Vegas-style, that those people who stole out of the register really needed the money.

The Employment Guide: AKA where to sell your plasma

Today at the grocery store I picked up one of those little free bulletins next to the sliding doors. It was labeled "The Employment Guide" (Read: The Unemployment Guide). Great, I thought. Here's one place I've haven't thought of searching for a job, the good old newspaper. And the muckraker in me always loves the smell of a hot sheet of black and white.

So I opened it up with all the innocence of a child about to lick cold metal. The "employment guide" had one actual job listing: telemarketer. The rest of the space was covered with ads for trade school, bogus real estate schemes (because that's a hot market these days), and plasma donation. Actually, plasma donation is an oxymoron. Only the desperate give plasma. No one willingly "donates" it and then just walks away. They expect benjamins! I've personally considered donating as recently as this morning.

Oh, I forgot. There was also a job listing for the border patrol. Right. There's a dream career. Personally, I think anyone would be crazy to sneak into this country. "Turn back!" I'd yell. "No jobs that allow you to maintain dignity here! No American Dream alive past this border!"

Job Search 2010: Take Three

It's been a little over a month since I've been unemployed, and I've started my job search again. And by again, I mean for the third time this year. By now, you'd think I'd be a unemployment pro. To be honest, I haven't even revised my resume to my liking yet. I don't think I ever will. I mean, it's pretty, but that's pretty much it. But if I don't even have prospective employers with whom to share my resume, what's the point?

So I took to the internet this afternoon and searched the listings of five different websites. (I already get automatic emails from all the big job websites like monster.com.) Just my luck, the Las Vegas Review Journal classified section was experiencing some annoying technical difficulties, allowing me to view job listings, but only the leftmost half inch of the posting. Am I applying to be a classy Las Vegas Strip hostess or to dance at a strip club? Html only knows.

Another major problem I always run into when job hunting in Las Vegas is that many of the job for which I'd otherwise be qualified require headshots. I don't have these, nor do I have the money to obtain them. If I did, I wouldn't be looking for work. Some employment listings even say things like, "Send photos," with the caveat, "Don't worry. I'm not a pervert." Oh, phew. Now I feel comforted. I can TOTALLY trust the guy who needs photos before he'll set up an interview for his potential future secretary. I'd personally rather know I'm applying for something sketchy than be surprised later.

In the end, I wound up finding two jobs that look interesting: rare book salesperson and hookah hostess. Neither require photos. Now excuse me while I write my cover letters.