Job Hunt Series, Part 1

Weather Forecast: A dark rain cloud is building up.

Nail polish!!! I looked at my poor toenails after dragging my feet for a few kilometers. A fresh coat of paint and a relaxing foot spa were what they were gasping for. But at that moment priority went to locating the address on the paper. Yes, after four call-a-friends, three cups of Milo, two sleepless nights and a partridge in a pear tree strong dose of optimism, I had finally decided to stay and give it a try.

Giving it a try means I had to find a job. The wishful thinker in me instantly showed me visions of the privileged life as if I was watching my future thru a hippie-gypsy’s crystal ball. It showed someone who looked like me in the middle of a posh street, carrying loads of shopping bags, bouncing like a flirty cat in a diaphanous DVF wrap and chic Louboutins the way that the winged Adriana Lima sashays on the runway in her Victoria’s Secret. A dapper Noah Mills-lookalike would whisk me away. And the next thing I knew, I’m wrapped in his arms viewing the city lights from a Bentley.

Noah Mills for Gap Jeans

But this is no fairy tale. This is reality. Only that the ubiquitous hidden cameras make it feel more like a reality TV.

As I continued my search within the industrial compound, I kept praying that the resume, which I have been carrying in my hands, would not go straight into the bin. Or that at least it would wilt first before my spirit does. The warehouse-like building looked so cliché -- straight out of a 90’s action movie, devoid of fancy architecture or cool décor, where vintage Seagal would pop out of nowhere and beat the hell out of Mr. Shooli and Kuhol. >>

I was a bit hesitant to step inside their narrow elevator, or lift as what it’s referred to here. The lift was not at all uplifting. Dim lighting, dusty interiors and flyers strewn on the floor. Running up the stairs up to the 10^th floor was not ideal though, so I took the lift. It’s one of those creepy feelings where you sense that you are not alone even if you are. And the gradual pace was not helping either. But I had to focus.

Four offices greeted me as soon as I stepped out of the lift. I double-checked the room number on the paper and just took a deep breath before entering. Their two glass swing doors were plastered with announcements and posters in Mandarin and English. Inside, the air-conditioned office was occupied by a few uptight-looking Chinese Singaporeans in their standard blue cubicles. On one corner were some clothing samples hanged on the racks with a few pieces folded on the floor. And on another corner was a pile of fashion magazines and some packaging mock-ups. My stealthy inspection of the room was only disrupted by a chorus of heavy keypad strokes and frequent telephone rings. I hoped to see fellow applicants around but the receiving area was vacant. I wondered if I’m the only person who noticed their microscopic ad in the newspaper.

A petite lady, dressed in a pink cotton blouse tucked inside a pair of black slim pants, greeted me. She seemed to be busy on her way to a meeting or something so she referred me to her colleague. That colleague of hers, who seemed too engrossed in her work, took about 10 minutes before approaching me. She took my resume and told me that they would give me a call if I get shortlisted. And that was it. It was not what I expected from my first attempt at job hunting.

A lot of maybe’s got me thinking. Maybe that is the style here. Maybe they are still waiting for other applicants. Maybe they already hired one. Maybe they don’t hire foreigners. Maybe they didn’t like my qualifications. Maybe they didn’t like my aura. Or maybe my birth date is not compatible with theirs. Maybe I should have worn red.

Maybe I should stop worrying. Ugh!

On the bright side, at least there were no lengthy and archaic written exams which are still a prerequisite in most companies in the Philippines. I’m not sure if the HRD still evaluates the results of such written tests when a degree, work experience, a portfolio, and probably a hands-on exam are more relevant and significant. I believe that those who belong to the creative industry are equally tired of looking at the exam sheets while rotating some shapes in his mind or choosing the most suitable title for a given set of scenarios… et cetera, et cetera, ad infinitum, ad nauseam.

I went back to our flat where I found Marie just as I had left her, sending out resumes online. We took turns using the laptop and encircling newspaper ads. Later in the day she received a call for an interview. We were excited for her as much as she was.

Lady luck must be truly on her side as she eventually got the job within the week. This all the more made me hopeful realizing how fairly easy it was to get a job. It was indeed an effortless job-hunting experience for her. Celebration was in order. The determined vacationer in Ruthie insisted on a trip to the popular theme park Sentosa for our first weekend. We both felt the need to share the good news. She immediately contacted our mutual friend Angel and arranged for a meet-up.

Weekend came and the four of us were queuing up for the ticket at a mall called Vivo City. From the mall, a train took us to Sentosa within a few minutes. It had a brief stopover in the middle of the tracks just to showcase the groundwork for the then unconstructed Resorts World which would include the Universal Studios theme park. There were cranes and forklifts everywhere. For such a small land area, Singapore seems to never run out of things, and dreams, to build.

At that day Sentosa was packed with tourists. The general mood was chaotic but in a fun and non-stressful way. It felt good to be a kid for a day. Its colossal version of Merlion was impossible to miss. It made me feel like we were wandering puny chicks under the watchful eyes of this mother hen. Only that her anatomy is much more complicated.

Although we were unable to try all the attractions that day, it was nevertheless a memorable experience for everyone. The 4D Magix theatre was unexpectedly fun with the sudden spray of water and tickle of the feet. And even if it drizzled during the Songs of the Sea open-air show, the view of the sea of umbrellas and the weird feeling of sitting on wet benches actually added to the charm of the whole experience.

Two weeks had passed since.

I woke up early one fine morning, went to the bathroom and looked at the mirror. Strangely, I felt something was missing. And it was not my day moisturizer. I looked over to my right just as I used to, but this time the giggling did not happen. Then I realized that the trio became a duo. One less musketeer. One less roommate. With Ruthie back in Manila, everything felt real once again… the ticking of the clock, the changing of the date, the passing of time. JobsDB, JobsCentral and Jobstreet would soon replace The Sartorialist, Vogue and Style.com as my new BFFs.  

*Names were replaced to protect their identities.