Take This Job and…

Well, you catch my drift.

Since it’s Labor Day weekend, it’s time for my annual vitriolic (and admittedly biased) rant against corporations and their management lapdogs. Instead of recounting once again my

past humiliations at the hands of devious bosses and co-workers, I’ll tell you of two recent events showcasing just how cheap, disdainful and discriminatory companies are when it comes to hiring and treating their employees.

A few weeks ago, I answered an ad for a freelance editor. In my reading of the ad and my understanding of the term freelance, I assumed the job would be working in the office part-time or writing/editing on a project-by-project basis. Not a bad gig, I thought. Even better, the publication specializes in an industry I’ve previously covered.

I was called in for an interview, and so I went. From, there it went downhill, and fast.

First, the job wasn’t part-time or freelance as I and most understand those terms. It was a full-time contract position. In other words, I would be hired to toil full-time, yet paid hourly with no health insurance, retirement plan, or any other benefits. The ad was misleading, to say the least. In the company’s president’s (more on this a-hole in a bit) view, “freelance” meant the workers could say, leave early occasionally if their work was completed and they needed to visit a doctor. How compassionate of him! Frankly, in my experience at real full-time jobs, most bosses are pretty flexible when it comes to medical and family emergencies.

When I pressed (politely) on possible benefits, he scoffed at me, mumbling something to the effect that providing those perks was too much bother for him. Oh, those pesky full-time workers! How dare they demand fair wages, a decent health plan and a 401(K)! The nerve!

This rather alarming display of stinginess and condescension came after this 60-something, aging Don Draper-type bragged how his family owned buildings in the Garment District of Manhattan, and how everybody knew and loved him. This creaking vestige of imperialistic White Privilege just had to impress me with how great it is. I wanted to barf.

Obviously, he had the money to foot the bill for benefits. He just didn’t want to be bothered. Sickening, truly sickening.

His “publication” —and I use snark punctuation here— was nothing more than a mouthpiece for various PR agencies in the city. Even my sleazy bosses at my former former job wouldn’t publish the nauseating fluff/crap this guy did. He admitted he would never publish a real news story on a person or company. If a company were going through tough times, he would ignore it in print. I’m no investigative journalist, but you can cover the real news and be fair at the same time.

But, hey, everybody loves him. Wonder why?

The job entailed duties so easy I could do them my sleep. I’m looking for a bit more challenge in a new job than that. Also, the publication, as I mentioned previously, covered an industry where I know the most of the players and worse, could encounter some of my former colleagues at my former former job if I went to an event. I’d rather have a root canal than meet up with those bastards and backstabbers.

If that weren’t enough to make me walk away, given the overtly pandering tone of this “publication,” I would be a laughingstock to the entire industry and my former colleagues and bosses. Haven’t they had enough fun at my expense when they cruelly laid me off?

You guessed it. I politely declined this full-time-with-no-benefits job.

How dare she? She’s unemployed! She must take any crappy job offered!

Not really. Just because I’m unemployed does not mean I have given up my free will. I have every right to choose where and with whom I work. You know, the same right everybody else possesses. I believe anyone who criticizes me for not taking an unappealing job is probably miserable in his or her own job and feels everyone else should be, too.

Let me also remind you, I was gainfully employed, happy to work with horrible bosses, impossible workloads and stomach-churning deadlines. Until I was laid off. Where was my freedom of choice then?

I would dearly love another full-time job — if I were offered one with decent benefits and duties that allow me to use my background while also expanding my skills. None has been offered to me.

Unlikely I will ever be offered one, considered the blatant ageism I face. Back in the spring, I went on a job interview and was told point-blank I had “too much experience” (translation: you’re too old). I didn’t get the job. No surprise.

A week or two ago, I submitted an application for that same job, although I didn’t know it at the time. The name of the company sounded familiar, but since I submit an average of two applications a day, I figured why not give it a try? I had all the qualifications for the position.

The HR lady sent me an email asking for a preliminary phone interview. That’s when I did some digging and realized it was the same job I had interviewed for back in May but was rejected because of my age.

I was angry at first – why put myself through that humiliating experience again? — but didn’t do anything until I calmed down over the weekend.

On Monday, I decided to compose a direct, but professional email. Since we scorned candidates get so few chances to vent our feelings to our rejecting employers, I had to take advantage of this rare opportunity.

I recounted my experience, how I was told I had too much experience (as if that’s a bad thing), how those are code words for “too old,” and how I was ultimately rejected for the job.

I closed by saying that there was really no benefit for me interviewing for the job again if the company and the lady I interviewed with still practiced age discrimination. I received no reply from the HR lady. Why should she care anyway? Nobody is going to sue the company for age discrimination, least of all older, unemployed workers with no money. Nevertheless, I took a bit of satisfaction in at least calling the company out on its rather overt ageism.

Oh, and by the way, why is it advertising an opening for the same job a mere three months later? Gee, guess the Millennial it was so hot to hire for a paltry salary didn’t work out, eh?

I know what you must be thinking: How dare she refuse another job! Well, I wasn’t offered that job. Chances I wouldn’t be again. I haven’t gotten any younger in three months or undergone plastic surgery (though I did get my hair cut and colored).

This is what workers of whatever age face today in the workforce: Either you’re being discriminated against because of your age or forced to work for a meager salary for no benefits. Management holds the hammer, and boy, do they use it against workers at every chance. Especially when it comes to layoffs. Layoffs, in my opinion, are nothing more than management getting somebody else — their workers — to pay for their mistakes. And managers wonder why employees flee for another job at the first chance?

Sometimes I wonder, have I willingly left the labor force, or was I kicked out? It’s a bit of both, I think. Two layoffs in four years have made me justifiably hesitant to take another full-time job. A job I can lose through no fault of my own. I refuse to ever again be a pawn in some hidden Machiavellian management scheme that leaves me jobless and broke while my former bosses and their lapdogs continue to rake in their undeserved salaries.

A day to honor workers? What a freaking joke!