“Hey Jessica, what’s it like trying to get a job in New York City right after college?”
Asked NO ONE.
But anyway, here I am, about to discuss some troubling tid-bits having to do with entering the work force. What do I do exactly? Well, I’ve worked in theatre and crappy reality tv, and my next step really has to do with whoever will have me. And pay me. Yeah, that’d be nice.
So a bazillion cover letters later, and I got my first interview. For an unpaid internship. Obviously. But this morning, I felt great. I put on my cute business-y blue dress and I left my little apartment in Astoria with a brighter outlook and thoughts of world domination. Or interview domination at least. However, what I’d forgotten during my pre-interview emotional high is that I was interviewing for a dinky production company whose website’s most recent entry dated from 2006. It was also unpaid, remember?
OK, I get out of the subway at midtown, and go into Argo Tea to treat my self to a pumpkin chai creation. Then, resume and chai in hand, I head to the interview.
I enter the decrepit building. I walk into the ancient elevator. Even the smell of mildew won’t shake my good mood. I get off at the ninth floor, to meet my interviewer, who for anonymity purposes I’ll call Fred. By the way, Fred is no more than a few years older than me. And he’s tubby. Fred and I shake hands and head to one of the rooms in the office. I sit down, cradling my chai, and look at him intently. After our initial pleasantries, I find out that this production company primarily focuses on sports documentaries. Ew. My brain began to power down.
Then, Fred proceeds to tell me that this tiny production company is looking to make it big in realty television. And I am to spend all my days trolling the interwebs for new and exciting reality tv fodder. Ew. Almost worse than sports documentaries. No, it’s definitely worse. But don’t get too excited, Fred implored, we couldn’t do a reality show on anyone well-known or actually interesting because…we have no contacts or money to attract them. So, I guess our only option is HoboTV.
Alright, just for good measure, let’s go over what my unpaid television internship could have been: I could’ve had the great fortune to spend 3 days a week on blogs and on the street just waiting for someone interesting to come along. THAT’S NOT AN INTERNSHIP, FRED. That’s…I don’t even know what that is.
So I gathered my chai and left.
