Hi, I am your resume. I am everything you have ever done in your life that your future employer will deem important. I am one page. ONE SINGULAR PAGE. That’s all I am, and that’s all you are. Everything else is inconsequential. Had a useless internship lately? Put it on me. Volunteered at a soup kitchen and helped out hundreds of homeless people for the whole summer? You can type it on me if you’d like, but if it takes me past one page, you better leave it off. I don’t like company.
Before you send me out, make sure you make me neat. I want to be pretty. You know how you overdress for petty social functions? Well, when I go out I want to look my best as well, even if I’m being sent to McDonald’s or Starbucks.
Hold up there my friend, where do you think you are putting your “Related Work Experience”? What? What’s that? You want to show your future employer all the things you did in high school before your related work experience? You amateur! You’re the type of client I hate. You are one of those college students who is still caught up in student council, the football team, being involved in the high school newspaper, and being president of the prom committee.
Let me tell you something, kid, I have been around. I have been recycled at least 3000 times. You think Johnny Q. Public Employer is going to give a rat’s ass if you were in charge of your high school setting a record for pints of blood donated during your high school’s blood drive? Hell No! This is the real world, sonny. The only blood you need to worry about is the blood that will come from your tongue after licking 7000 envelopes for your new boss. That is, if you get a job, which would involve getting me noticed. Good luck with that.
Oh, you decided to put extracurricular activities on me. I see. Act like I am an employer for a second. Do you think I am going to ask if you enjoyed playing Tevya in your college production of “Fiddler on the Roof?” I only want to know one thing: if the bathroom in the office is dirty, and I feel like giving the janitor a break, do you have the necessary skills to clean the bathroom while keeping a smile on your face? And while you do it, I may let you sing “If I Were a Rich Man,” because you ain’t never gonna’ be one. That’s the way the world is, son. Take it from me. I have been to many interviews.
Let’s just say, for argument’s sake, that you are capable of making me beautiful with perfect spacing, straight lines, and an eye-catching, but not too gaudy, header. Now you have to send me out with Mr. Cover Letter. I am sure your cover letter is horrible, containing self-righteous mumbo-jumbo. I mean, I know it is from your heart, and maybe it is well-written, but the person who receives me and Mr. Cover Letter just throws him out anyway. It’s just you and me my friend, and there ain’t nothing you can do about it. Anyway, you should send me out to maybe fifty places. Of those fifty places, maybe two of them will take me seriously, and those two will be places you will hate working for.
If my math is correct, that means 4 percent of my identical twins will be considered. Considered is the key word. Now, of the 48 that get tossed you may receive something in the mail that says, “We have received your resume. Please do not contact us for employment; we will contact you… blah blah blah.” Do not take this message seriously. This postcard was mailed by their intern, so obviously, the position has been filled.
If you want to follow up on my progress, you can, but don’t think that the person on the other end of the telephone really cares. More than likely you will hear, “Oh yeah, we had your resume, but we misplaced it (IN THE GARBAGE). If you want to send another resume that would be great (And please never call here again).” You see, my inexperienced little pup, once you start sending me out, you will learn how to take hints. Remember when you talked to the love of your life and got a lukewarm response? Well, it’s sort of the same thing, only in this case, you aren’t going to be heart broke, just plain broke. Wait, I’m sorry, where’s my head? You are probably sending me out to get an internship, right? Let’s be realistic, you weren’t going to make a dime anyways.
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