Having recently parted ways with the department store that employed me, I feel like showering as I answer the following questions as part of an online application for a customer service job in a Big Box retailer:
How much money have you stolen from your employer in the past year?
0 to $5
$6 to $10
$11 to $20
$21 to $50
$51 or more.
How much money have you stolen from friends or family members in the past year?
0 to $5
$6 to $10
$11 to $20
$21 to $50
$51 or more.
I don't like getting involved in my friends' problems.
Strongly disagree.
Disagree.
Agree.
Strongly agree.
I swear a lot when I'm angry.
Strongly disagree.
Disagree.
Agree.
Strongly agree.
There are about 50 of these, three or four per page after page after page after page.
The theory behind these personality surveys is that in answering the same invasive, obnoxious question asked several different ways, you'll reveal your true, corrupt self despite all the second guessing you can muster to avoid incriminating yourself.
As I hadn't subjected myself to his kind of abuse for a few years, being mercifully in the same job all that time, I was suddenly taken aback. I'd done it on paper a few times, but never online, which somehow made it seem even more impersonal.
Being old and gray(ing), I head off to an AARP job fair this week to see who will actually seriously discuss employment with a 50-something geezer. I’m curious as to what types of jobs these are apart from WalMart greeters, a fate worse than death. Age discrimination is a fact of life, as anyone aged will be the first of many to tell you. I don’t think my age has helped in my quest for a permanent teaching position. I’m glad I can substitute teach in perpetuity, a circumstance that I’m slowly accepting I might have to do unless the economy picks up.
