The Job Fair

PART I

The newspaper was filled with the usual drama of the overnight affairs of the world and advertisers shouted out their customary diatribe of clichés. But deep in the classifieds section, a small ad caught her eye. A local company with an international base was looking for nurses. They were particularly interested in candidates who had practical experience with the physical and psychological needs of older members of the community.

To capture the interest of readers, the rate of pay for the position was announced in big bold letters as being twice that of a qualified Registered Nurse.

It was a small and inconspicuous notice planted in a modest square at the bottom of the employment section on page 43. In the briefest of terms the employer listed the prerequisite qualifications required of applicants. Only applicants with proof of such qualifications would be considered for an interview.

Karen took her second breath and read the ad two more times. The first time solely to intoxicate her senses to the advent of finally locating the perfect job and the second time around just to reinforce the reality of the offer. She hoped fervently that she wouldn't discover any flaws in it.

That was Karen's way of making sense of details, especially when her emotions were wrestling for control over her decisions.

Yet, in the end, her only grumble was that the ad seemed a little odd. To be more precise, the wording of this offer of employment was more ambiguous then she would have liked. The other thing that struck her strange was that the position was a bit too high paying. Was there an aspect of this job that was being withheld to potential applicants? She hoped there wasn't. But then again she thought, there were parts of every job that were purposely kept from applicants.

So Karen dismissed the 'raised' flag of her intuition and sat back to consider her current situation. Deep down, she knew that she couldn't ignore any offer for employment. Karen was desperately in need of money. She had reached the point where she was obligated to query any job, however flimsy or imperfect. In fact, a job as a clean-up matron at a fast food, drive-through joint, appealed to her as a pretty good prospect.

Dropping the newspaper by her feet and abandoning her favourite chair all in one effort, she sprinted to her telephone. She still used a 'dial-up', which hung on the wall in the kitchen by the fridge. Off to the side was a cork panel. It was Karen's tote board of past, present, and future job races. It was filled with numerous post-it notes and pinned-up bits of paper. It was a gallery of all the companies she had bet on for a job, and lost. Above this was a large planning calendar with big squares for each day of the current month. There were only two entries for the current month and both had been "X"d over. They had proved to be dead ends. Duds.

Motivated now by need as much as a resolve to succeed, she dialled the number from the ad. As the connection was being made, Karen thought of the recent events in her life.

By education, training, and experience she was a qualified Nurse. Her most recent position had been Head of Nursing Services for the geriatric ward of the municipal hospital. But when an unplanned State election was called, everything changed. During the primaries, a private members bill introduced a 'proposition and it was eventually put on the ballot. What followed was a major consolidation of medical services. While the intent was to save millions of dollars of taxpayers' money, it would necessarily threaten livelihoods of the staff of hospitals everywhere.

The outcome of the election and the popular proposition was the amalgamation of the State medical network and a new philosophy of patient care throughout the region. In short order, the election and all that went with it, caused irreparable damage to the lives of hospital workers throughout the commonwealth. Within a year, Karen and all the others were forced to suffer the indignities of a full or partial shutdown of their institution.

Karen was a well-qualified and experienced nurse. Unfortunately she lacked the required tenure to secure a safe slot for her continued employment. Her experience at receiving a lay-off notice had been a caustic slice of real life. Her job loss was unwarranted, unplanned, and certainly unearned.

The foreclosure of her career was paralysing. Then things got worse!

Karen was a 43-year-old single mother. Her daughter was 21. Karen was an attractive woman who was fit and healthy and still interested in dating. She owned her own home and leased a new car every three years. Yet in spite of these successes and the depth of her professional nursing qualifications, her victory in finding employment remained out of reach!

Six months elapsed rather quickly. By this time she had been obliged to dip into her savings and investments. Month followed month and the only movement in her life was her slide down the economic scale.

As time went on there was less and less money left over for discretionary use. After payments for the mortgage, auto lease, heating oil and food were made, she and her daughter were forced to exist on little or nothing. Then her taxes went up. The cost of heating oil increased. Her phone bill was a month behind and the cable company was coming to cut off the service any day.

But Karen was a fighter and apart from a career that had just collapsed into tatters, she had soldiered on. Aside from the economic stresses and strains that continued to assault her personal safety zone, she exercised her optimism with an energetic enthusiasm. That was Karen's way of doing things. She was like a used car salesman. That kind of sales tiger who on a dreary February afternoon in a drizzling rain storm, pads happily about his little sales hut, waiting patiently for the next prospect to lay a foot upon the lot.

Without any relief, Karen finally began to feel a lot like the ad campaign for the local rock station; the hits just kept coming.

The next roadblock preventing her from climbing out of the hole she was in was much closer to home than any other. Karen had bravely faced a showdown of will, in a no-choice situation. On top of everything else happening to her, she accepted the responsibility of managing the institutionalized care of her own mother.

Helen was 79 years old and Karen was her only child. Helen had no health coverage. Karen's of course, had been withdrawn because of her lay-off. The hospital bill for her mother's first month of care was due at the end of the month. Karen didn't have the money. Neither did her mother. In addition to this, Karen's daughter was in her final year of college and her tuition was due in two months. What would she tell her daughter? Karen knew that any surplus money she had, was now earmarked for the primary elements of life. Compared to the other vital necessities for a certain dignity of life, the luxury of paying for her daughter's continued education could no longer be considered.

Karen waited for her call to be answered and prayed the prayer of suffering people everywhere. 'Please, please help me,' she canted in a hushed whisper. Karen was still determined to prevail in her search for employment. She refused to give into the thought that this advertised position might be just another lost job opportunity.

//

"Hello. British Care Incorporated. How may I help you?" a female voice intoned softly. Karen took a deep breath, then began her well-practiced introduction of herself.

After a brief conversation, Karen hung up the phone. She was ecstatic! She had done it. She had secured an appointment for an interview for the advertised position. She just knew instinctively that she was going to get it! Quickly, in order to appease the Gods of good luck, she marked the 3 p.m. time of her appointment on the calendar in big bold letters in the box for tomorrows date along with the letters C.B./ D.R./B.C.I. .

Karen leaned against the kitchen wall and looked up towards the ceiling. Finally the tension that she had been struggling with over the past few months began to drain slowly from her body and soul. She rolled her eyes skyward in relief, then sighed, allowing a smile of triumph to spread wide across her face. Karen's interview would be with Carla Breaker, the Director of Recruitment for British Care Inc . //

The headquarters of British Care Incorporated were located in one of the newest office towers in the city. When Karen read the tenants' directory board in the lobby she discovered that the company occupied the entire 20th floor. For Karen, this confirmed that British Care Inc. was a bona fide commercial entity with obvious financial resources.

The elevator ride was swift, smooth, and quiet, and when the doors whooshed open Karen found herself walking directly into the main foyer of B.C. I. It was a spacious entrance, made more so by the fact that it was populated with only lean bits of modern deco-style furniture. Yet the power of the plush maroon coloured carpet and the backdrop of textured sandalwood beige wall coverings lent a more civilized atmosphere.

Against the main wall opposite the elevator, the huge stylized logo of B.C.I. projected out from the wall in burnished stainless steel letters. In front of this, the semi-circle reception desk hunkered low as if chosen specifically for its lack of height so it wouldn't obscure the company's incorporated trademark.

Karen approached the desk with trepidation. A stunningly attractive woman was working there and the moment she became aware of Karen, she rose to greet her. She was a most gracious young woman and executed her duties with the aplomb of a seasoned ambassador officiating in Casablanca, Kuala Lumpur, or Kowloon. Karen immediately elevated her opinion of B.C.I. even more and felt proud to have moved this far forward with her quest for a suitable position.

When the young receptionist had proceeded through the rhyme of her greeting, she segued into the reason for Karen's visit?

Karen nervously made reference to the classified advertisement in the newspaper. This led to her 3 o'clock appointment with Ms Breaker. The receptionist acknowledged Karen's answer with a warm smile then glided out from behind her desk, directing Karen to the seating lounge in the waiting area located at the far end of the large reception zone. She also provided Karen with a questionnaire and requested her to complete it before her meeting with Ms Breaker.

At precisely 3 p.m. the receptionist approached Karen. Then like an usher at a church wedding, she guided Karen to room 2010, located at the far end of the hall on the right side.

//

Carla Breaker's office wasn't anything like any office Karen had ever seen before. The simple word 'office' was woefully inadequate as a description to equal the capacious grandeur that Karen saw before her. It was an enormous en suite. Four times the size of any normal office, and it came complete with a panoramic view of the horizon that was, for lack of a better word, breathtaking! Carla's personal work area commanded a vast corner. The desk was a modern amalgam of glass and stainless steel. Two computer screens were visible at each corner as were a scanner and laser printer. It was a wrap around affair that left everything exposed and nothing hidden from view.

Carla did not look up when Karen entered. Karen stood still and waited, craning her neck in her attempt to see all that was being presented.

The office was high above the streets, with windows that ran from ceiling to floor. Glass was everywhere. Double glazed panes were cinematic in scope, running from one side of the office, all the way around to the other. No place to hide was the first thought that entered Karen's mind as she stood still just inside the door.

What furniture was there, squatted in groups in sparse isolation throughout the office. Similar to the chairs and tables in the foyer, these too were constructed of chromed frames and marble tops and very little else in the way of traditional material. Pictures that populated the walls were cubist renditions of women with children. They were all artistically challenging to Karen's pedestrian appreciation of art and the artist's creative intent was well beyond her mastery of interpreting modern art deco.

Carla Breaker was a woman of business. She came across immediately as a take-charge manager. When she raised herself from her high backed leather chair to greet Karen, her movement was lithe, yet precise and economic in a military-like fashion.

Yet from the very instant of their meeting, Carla interacted with Karen in a suave and genteel manner. Karen regarded Carla's individuality as a signature of a refined upbringing and probably the result of an expensive and private education.

Once the first fragile moments of their mutual introduction subsided, it was back to business. In this respect, Carla's overture quickly became a serious intention to distance herself from the applicant.

Carla Breaker was not a beautiful looking woman by any means. Despite this, Karen assessed that she would be more than capable of asserting a powerful presence in any room she chose to enter.

Her hair was a husky auburn hue, shoulder length, and rigidly styled. She wore a business suit of dark blue with a jacket designed with square and imposing shoulders.

The finishing touch was a threatening black Gucci's. They made the whole of point of her couture. Pencil thin spiked heels not only supported her well-endowed body, they defined the authority of her gender. She stood in Karen's way like an inverted triangle.

"Please have a seat, Karen," Carla said, motioning with a circular gesture of her hand, pointing towards the chair on her right

Karen sat, as she had been instructed, and tried to relax.

"Karen," Carla began, "I choose to conduct my interviews where we are both unencumbered by the convention usually found between someone who has a position to offer and someone who wants that position. I would ask, therefore, that you conduct yourself as you are and not try to emulate someone who you think that I want to see sitting across from me. I encourage you to speak your mind and to ask all of those little niggling questions that for some reason, can be so easily be forgotten during interviews. Are you okay with this, Karen?"

"Yes, I feel quite at ease," which was an outright lie because Karen was not about to let her jitters come in the way of getting this job!

"Good."

"This company has received over 2000 calls from potential candidates in response to our latest advertisement. That was the last count as of 8 a.m. this morning. To explain further Karen, we recruit employees through a 'Call Centre'. We created guidelines for their operators. This allows them to render an instant 'yes' or 'no' decision after a brief conversation with the applicants who have made the effort to contact us. You represent our one hundredth 'yes' decision regarding an interview. How does that make you feel?"

"Honoured. To say the least. Maybe lucky. No, on second thought, it makes me happy, confident. Yes, I am pleased." Karen blurted out haltingly, as if she was recovering from a long absence from the use of speech.

Carla smiled and re-adjusted herself in her chair.

"The reality of our search for the right people however is that we only want to hire the best 10 from that group of 100. Now, how does that make you feel?"

"Now I would definitely have to say, lucky," Karen declared.

"Luck my dear, has absolutely nothing to do with it!"

"Well, that's a relief," Karen said almost unconsciously, as if she were having a beer with her friends.

In a split second of informality, both women looked at each other, then giggled over Karen's sophomoric statement.

The respite from the seriousness of the interview was brief and Carla continued with the inquiry of the applicant.

"Karen. Do you like to help other people?"

"Yes. Yes I do."

"I assume then, that if a person cut themselves you would render first aid immediately?"

"Yes. That's right."

"And I take this to mean also that if another person were experiencing a patch of mild depression or emotional stress of some kind, you would offer kind words of encouragement?"

"Yes. Absolutely."

"What if a person just wanted you to be in their presence. Just wanted you to be there, not to do anything exactly, just to be physically close to them?"

"Well, yes. I don't see anything wrong with that."

"Wrong? Why that choice of words, Karen?"

"It's odd, that's all. I haven't ever really thought of someone who would just want me to be sort of, 'there', you know?"

"Karen. There are hundreds of people out there who want just that. They need other people. They need special people who for one reason or another, they have been unable to find. British Care Incorporated caters to these type of people by supplying them with our professionally trained and specially handpicked staff. Do you think that is wrong?"

"No. I suppose not."

Carla Breaker stood and casually retrieved a piece of paper from a chromed folio tray that sat at the front of her desk. "Of course, being there for clients also requires that our representative is a good listener. Are you a good listener, Karen?"

Karen was now aware of a build-up to something important. Perhaps a pivotal fork in their discussion? She wasn't sure. What she did feel however, was that the way in which Ms Breaker posed the question was cause enough for her to be defensive.

"Of course I'm a good listener."

"So, can you tell the difference between a request that has to be filled and a request that only needs to be talked about as if it were going to be filled?"

"I. . .I don't know exactly what you mean. . .?"

"Well, a child needs to feel that what they ask for will eventually come their way. A mother will often placate a child's request with an affirmation. However, her response can be lacking any detail whatsoever. She will purposefully be vague as to when the request will actually be made available to the child. Do you understand that Karen?

"Well, yes. . .yes I do. . .but how does that relate to the job?"

"Well. Older people often ask for things for the same reasons and with the same expectations as children. This is particularly true of elderly men. That is, older men are prepared to wait for what it is that they want. They mostly just want to ask the questions and to be acknowledged. We have found that older men desperately want to let the nurses know, precisely what they want. Whether they get it or not is irrelevant.

"To take advantage of this these elderly men can actually be encouraged to behave in a manner that could be viewed as conciliation on their part. It is our understanding that they believe that good behaviour will work distinctly to their favour. They see the nurse as being the person in charge and therefore the one who will grant them what they want. Correct or proper behaviour on their part is their way to guarantee that what they desire will eventually be given. Older members of the community are a lot like children inasmuch as they are eager to hear a 'yes' at the end of their question."

Karen was now quite confused as to where Carla was going with her line of questioning.

Carla recognized the consternation in Karen's facial expression. "Anyone can be controlled if they are kept in a constant state of 'want', especially where vague promises have been given. Promises, the type that in due course, will eventually be fulfilled.

"Oh! I see. Yes, now I see." but she didn't, not really. Strangely enough however, Carla's explanation did seem to make perfect sense.

"Karen," Carla began again, this time with the air of a conspirator, "Our client base is made up of men entirely.