Recruiters

Disclaimer: I apologise in advance to all and any honest people in this profession who are trying to make their living the good, honest and hard-working way and are getting bad reputation because of those who want quick and dirty money.

Ok, here's how it works: You find an ad on Seek.com.au, it says something like "great opportunity, my client is a world-renowned company in _insert generic business here_ and is looking for _insert generic IT position here_!!! Great $$$, + package, +benefits.

You spend about one hour licking your freshly updated CV and a cover letter, you send it out and you never hear from the agency again.

On average, there are about 100 IT jobs in Sydney advertised every day. There is a whole lot of people applying for them. Sadly, many of these jobs are just fake. The agencies are publishing fake ads just to get the people to send them their CVs. There are three links in this chain, you, the job-seeker, the job agency, let's call them pimps, as a pet name, and the employer.

In cases where valid employers advertise valid positions for valid people, you do have a chance. On average, about 40-50 of your all job applications would yield about two to three phone calls, and maybe one interview. It's impossible to check, but in my humblest opinion, about half of ads are fake.

Hi, I'm your new career councilor, bitch.

The response to your application can be three-fold:

1) None

2) "Thank you for your application. However, we decided not to progress with it at this time since we had more suitable candidates. We would like to keep your CV if a similar position opens in the future".

3) "Hi, this is a pimp calling from a pimping agency. I've got your CV and I'm wondering if you have 5 minutes to talk"

Now, this response is the one your life depends on. In this busy 5 minutes, where his voice has this cheerful tone which sounds like he's got a lynch mob in front of his house while making a call to change his tax file number, you are supposed to present yourself in the best light possible and win his little heart so he would push you forward.

From my personal experience in looking for job, I learned the following:

1) Your CV must be 95-100% match to whatever the employer is asking. This is not only impossible as every job is different, but is also insane to ask for. You are supposed to make progress with the next job, not stagnate, so why in the dark depths of hell are the pimps looking for a 100% match? Easy, because they don't have time or will or knowledge to read through your CV and actually UNDERSTAND the person described in it, and assess what he/she is capable of. Also, the company would surely benefit of your diverse experience, rather then looking for a robot, but they don't know that, because pimps are not telling them. And, yes, they mockingly call this HR....

2) The pimp is your god. He's the alpha and omega. He's the lord of your life, your present life and your future life. If he recommends you to a company, you're likely to get a job. If he throws your CV into the bin, the company won't know that you exist. Don't piss off the pimp, or else...

3) Pimps [and their agencies] are paid sickening amounts of money for employing whoever the fuck they want. I've managed to get an inside information whereby they receive up to 20.000 for a successfully employed candidate. Oh yes, my dear, this goes off of your annual salary. Remember when you see the salary in the job add saying something like 60.000 - 90.000 "depending on experience"? This actually refers to pimp's skills and experience in haggling with you for the lowest price, so he can get the difference. Of course, you don't want to be too greedy because you badly need the job, and will usually satisfy with the minimum amount. If you are too greedy, on the other hand, the pimp will let you know that "unfortunately, the company decided for someone else with an experience matching more closely to what they need".


This is, of course, a no win situation.

Hi, do you have five minutes to talk?

Let me give you a real-life example. I applied, I got a #3 call. I managed to get a phone interview with a company, which was on Wednesday. The pimp said he was going to talk to the interviewer on Thursday 13:00 hours and call me to give me feedback.

On Friday, I called his office and left him a message since he was in meetings all day long.

I spent a weekend thinking about it.

On Monday, I sent email asking for feedback.

I spent next 2 days thinking about it.

On Wednesday, I sent the following email. I'm publishing it here in its entirety, without the names.

"Hi _insert generic name_,

Last I've heard from you was when you said you will talk to _interviewer_ at about 1 o'clock and provide me with feedback of my phone interview. That was on Thursday morning.

In the meantime, I've called, I've left the messages, I've sent emails and have nothing back from you.

It is very frustrating to have an interview and not have any feedback from it for a week now. I'm sure you are busy but, please, just tell me simple yes or no, so that I can move on, it shouldn't take you longer than 20 seconds.

If you can please let me know today, I'd appreciate it.

Regards,"

You know what happens? He calls me 30 minutes later to tell me how he did not appreciate the tone of my email, the very one above. He said "I understand it, but I don't appreciate it". He said how he's got 19 jobs with 3 candidates on each, and how do I expect him to keep in touch with all of them? He also told me that I made it to round two and that I'll have another interview. The call lasted about 30 seconds.

He didn't appreciate it.

In the sweet voice of Marry Poppins - For fucking sake of holy fuck's fuck, who the fuck are you to fucking appreciate or not appreciate fucking anything?

I have a life which I have to fit into job change. I have one month notice. I have plain tickets to Europe, I have a family and 2 dozen different things that need to fit into this change, and he tells me he didn't appreciate it? Let alone the fact that I couldn't give a flying fuck about other 19 jobs and 3 candidates per each. I don't care man, you deal with me now, I want you to give me your time, I don't care how.

Fucking asshole.

Dear "recruiters" let me quote you the definition of HR:

"Human resources is a term used to refer to how employees are managed by organizations, or to the personnel department charged with that role. The field has moved from a traditionally administrative function to a strategic one that allegedly recognizes the link between talented and engaged people and organizational success. The field draws upon concepts developed in Industrial/Organizational Psychology and System Theory."

See? There's a reason why they call it HUMAN resources! Also, did you notice what you should be after? Talent! Talent is what you're supposed to be after, not 100% match.

Now, hit me!

Coogee

It's an area in Sydney. Sort of like a neighbourhood, but much more. You see, Coogee is also the name of the beach. The one I seriously like going to.

Coogee gets its name from Aboriginal word meaning "smelly place". This is due to kelp that would wash ashore and start stinking in the sun. Although you can still see the thorny seaweed washing ashore, there is no smell about it anymore.

My wife and I spent the last weekend on Coogee. It was great. Not even the stings of bluebottles and scorching sun could drive us off. I remember lying on the beach, thinking, one can get seriously addicted to the beach.

And this is why:

Trust me, it's much better ON the beach itself...

I prefer Coogee than other beaches, because it's not too big, there is a nice coastal walk about it, and it's not too far from Newtown.

Also, there are plenty of restaurants in Coogee, and many of them pretty good. I recommend Italians and Thai.

Coogee is a nice and charming place even if you don't like the beach. There is a lot of Art Deco architecture around, mostly villas from beginning of 20th century.

Image courtesy of Jim Barlas - check his photo blog here

Whoever is around Sydney, don't miss a day in Coogee.

I quit smoking a few days ago...

Yes, I quit smoking. I got sick of it. Not physically, but I just got sick and tired of looking for an opportunity to light up, of having this "I had to do something" feeling.

I woke one morning a couple of days ago, about one hour before going to work. I made myself a cup of coffee, lit up a cigarette, read mail and stuff... I then realised it's time to go to work. I looked at my ashtray and there was 7 cigarette-butts in there, in just under one hour.

This made me so pissed off that I quit instantly. I considered it a small private and intimate ritual, to light a cigarette and enjoy it. I never want to smoke again.It just doesn't make any logical or mathematical sense. My wife and I were monthly spending enough for cigarettes to pay off a good car. No more.

Also, I just quit. No patches, no lollipops, no chewing gum, no bullshit. I don't want to replace one drug with another.

Yes, I have crisis. It comes and goes. And it's so easy to fight it. Every time it comes up, I remember the feeling of having too many cigarettes, and putting them out half-smoked. I remember the foulness in my mouth and stench of my clothes and the faint pain in my lungs. It goes away as quickly as it came.

I don't want to be one of these hypocritical bastards to tell you "if I could quit, you can too". I leave it up to you. I'm just saying how I found my way to quit. I got pissed off. No need for therapy, counseling, pills, or patches.

- Btw, what's up with nicotine patches anyway? Who ever thought it's a great idea to come off from nicotine addiction using nicotine? For me, it doesn't make any sense, because what happens once you run out of medical nicotine?

Same goes for pills and any other nicotine substitution.

Fuck that all, either you smoke or you don't. Substituting one drug for another won't change much. I'll let you know how it works out.

Money First, Fitness Second

Ok, I admit it. I have extra weight like so many of us. Unlike so many of us, I'm not bothered about it, but my heart is. I've got high blood pressure and above-normal cholesterol levels. For this reason, I'm trying my best to regulate my diet [despite of what you may read on this page] and am trying to find an adequate fitness programme.

In Sydney, probably the biggest in the market are the Fitness First. In their own words - In fourteen short years, Fitness First has grown from a single club to a business that straddles 15 countries, has over 500 gyms and 1.2 million members.

Apparently it's a very successful UK based business [I cannot overstress the word 'business'], which expanded to colonies.

You cannot help but to notice FF marketeers when walking through Sydney. They are well-fit, obviously, wearing black, and are halting you in the street offering you 'free' trials. The thing is, they wouldn't give you 'free' trial pass unless you fill it in with your name, address and phone number. I call this fishing.

So, anyway, being lazy as I am, I went to their website to see how much they charge for membership. As I expected, the website is made in such confusing way that there are [at least] 4 membership programmes, none of which tells you how much it costs.

They do mention 'administration fee' of 70$ but all my attempts to find a monthly price for any of the membership types have failed.

I then referred to the manual, or FAQ as you would have it. This is where I was truly impressed by the sneakiness of somebody who cares so much about our health. Here is what it says about membership and payment:

"Do you have trial memberships?
Yes, a 1 week 'Starter Membership' can be purchased on line through this web site for $29.95 -"

Ok, so this is approximately how much it costs. Mind you, this is a trial kind of membership and the price doesn't have to be the same for ongoing membership.

Further on, they say:
"Are there any extra's to pay for, once I've become a member of Fitness First?

There are some additional costs. These are for optional facilities and services such as specialist workout classes, sun beds, and crèche facilities [where available]. As a member of Fitness First you will be able to take advantage of our many free benefits such as free DVD/Video hire and much more."

Oh, great, 'some' additional costs. So your membership doesn't give you full access as you may have thought.

On the other hand, you get to hire a free DVD and much more!

Then they proceed to say how the only way of paying is through Direct Debit, in other words, like it or not, visit or not, we're taking your money fortnightly without asking.

I'm pasting the next section in entirety, only because I like it so much!

"Cancelling membership

How do I cancel my membership after the minimum term has expired?

After the Minimum Term you must give us 4 weeks written notice (counted from the next direct debit date) preferably using the required form supplied by Fitness First and available at the club.

It is preferable that you make an appointment to see the Customer Care Manager (CCM) who will help you fill out the paperwork. If you can't make an appointment, you need to put your request to cancel your membership in writing to the CCM preferably at your home club (where you joined originally). You can do this via email, letter or fax and it's recommended you follow up with the CCM to ensure your notice of cancellation has been received by the club. Please note: we ask that you do not use the website enquiry form as your way to cancel as we do require a signature or equivalent to complete the transaction. In addition, if any of the network engines fail, the email cannot be traced. Thankyou.

Financial penalties may apply. For explanation of the Minimum Term, please refer to your contract."

Did you see that? A fucking written notice, four weeks in advance!!! And, this is counted from the next direct debit deduction.

Also, you need to make an appointment to see their councilor [CCM - Customer Council Manager], because there must be something seriously wrong with you if you want to cancel their membership. I am trying to picture this guy, and I bet he's intimidating! Also, although you can do this using email, don't use email, because 'network engines may fail' and when that happens, as we all know, cancellation emails tend to get lost!!! I wonder what network engines are supposed to be...

Financial penalties will apply!

"For explanation of the Minimum Term, please check your contract" Now, this is kind of difficult, since I DON'T HAVE ONE. In other words, you don't know how much it will cost you to cancel until you sign the contract. Nice!

Hell, it's easier for me [and most of us] to resign our job than to cancel their fucking membership.

Also, for somebody who likes it in writing, they have two spelling mistakes in this paragraph above.

But, don't despair! There are still two ways of getting out of the nightmare.

First one - get sick in such way that you cannot exercise any more. For this method, you will need a written proof from your doctor [seriously!].

Second one - move at least 30km away from the nearest FF shop. For this method, you will need a written proof from your real-estate agency [again, seriously!].

Check this:

"What qualifies as medical and relocation reasons?

You must provide documentary proof by a qualified medical practitioner that you are permanently sick or incapacitated from undertaking any exercise regime for a period of 12 months or the remaining terms of your membership (whichever is the longer).

For relocation, you must be moving to an area not within a 30km radius of a Fitness First club, as evidenced by a letter from a real estate agent or similar agent."

This is just to make sure you're not trying to skip your exercises! Nothing to do with making sure your money keeps flowing in.

After everything said, no wonder they are so successful when they have a similar opt-out to the mafia.

To be perfectly fair, they do have a cool-down period which they call 'Comfort Guarantee'. In short, you have one week after signing up to change your mind. In this case they will "refund your initial payment minus administration fee" - I'm just not clear what initial payment if they're charging you on two-weeks basis.

No wonder there are 1.2 million members. It' not worth canceling.

You can find their Australia website here - Fitne$$ Fir$t

Breakfast in Newtown

Something I really like about Sydney is the breakfast culture. As so many other things, we don't have this in my old country. In Newtown, where I live, every Saturday morning is great! It's usually sunny, and heaps of people go out to eat breakfast. There is also a small market in front of the Town Hall where people come to mostly sell the stuff they don't need any more, although you can sometimes see belly dancers, magicians, and of course, Goths.

Pass the market, you enter the main part of King Street where most of the restaurants are. I wanted to have a breakfast, and one of my usual places, Corelli's was full, so I went on, and found a seat in this place I haven't been before. I have to say, staff was really professional, great service, great coffee, and while I was sipping it, I was waiting for my great breakfast. One of fairly standard orders in Newtown is Big Brekkie, a plate of poached eggs, grilled mushrooms, hash-browns, baked beans, sausages, and omnipresent bacon and salad or variations thereof.

mmmm, breakfast!

It finally arrived, and it was big, all right! Everything looked perfect, and tasty too. The eggs perfectly poached, several pieces of perfectly toasted toast, beans baked to perfection, grilled mushrooms with oregano, bacon and sausages crispy as it should be, and plenty of butter on the side. I was chewing happily when I encountered an unfortunate resident of the baked beans. A small cockroach was obviously drowned [if not cooked] in the beans.

What? I don't remember ordering extra proteins!

So, there were two things I could do. I could stop eating, which wouldn't make much of a difference since I was already half the way through my plate, or, I could pretend nothing happened and continue with my breakfast.

I carefully placed the cockroach carcass on the side of the plate, and proceeded eating other animals' carcasses. I have to admit the breakfast did not taste as good as it originally did, but I was really hungry and it was good enough, so I finished with the meat, and left the tainted beans on the plate.

A waiter came and asked if I was happy with my meal. I told him yes, but I would be happier without this extra serving. I also asked him to warn the cook to be more careful for the sake of other, less sensitive patrons. He looked honestly shocked. I don't know if it was because of the roach in their food, or because I ate almost the whole thing despite of it, and was still kind to them.

A minute later, he returned embarrassed and apologising as if he farted during a dramatic pause of the theatre play, and said that the breakfast is on the house. Well, I said, thank you, fair enough. He also gave me another coffee for free and then we parted ways.

This little episode will certainly not diminish my passion for Saturday breakfasts, but will definitely make me think about where do I eat them.

A new kind of hustler

The other day I went for a lunch break. I was really hungry, and was kind of late for lunch, so I was in quite a hurry. As soon as I left the office building, just a few steps outside, I saw this guy, a Sikh, looking, no, fixating on me. I averted my eyes but he stopped me by my arm, and said:

- Excuse me sir, do you have a minute?

He held a small notebook in his hand and I thought he wanted to ask for directions, so I said, sure, tell me.

- I'm sorry sir, but I looked in your eyes, and I can see that you are a kind person.

There we go, I thought...

- I should introduce myself, he said, I'm Birdjangawandharangharamadarikanwi [or something], and I am from India...

Yes, I thought, I figured that much...

...and I would like to tell you a few things about YOURSELF if you don't mind.

This got my attention. Normally the people who approach you on the street in Sydney are beggars, middle-aged yuppies asking for a cigarette because-they-quit-smoking-you-know, and-this-is-just-one-because-I-had-a-very-bad-day-at-work, or tourists asking for directions.

- No, I'd like to hear what you have to say, I said, please continue.

- I'm sorry sir, he went on, but I'm from India, Kashmir [again] and I studied yoga with Great Master Rambamputrarashiwanimanekarandaharghawa [or something], and I see it there [pointing at my bald forehead] that you shine a light.

Wow, I thought, my sweaty brow in Sydney sun, no wonder...

- If you allow, I will tell you that you have three fortunate things coming up for you in January, but don't under ANY circumstances cut your hair or nails on Tuesdays. Please remember this sir, it is very important, DO NOT cut your hair or nails on Tuesdays, any Tuesdays.

- Ok, ok, said I, I won't, can we please go on?

- I'm sorry sir, can I ask you what is your name?

I told him my name, he tried to write it down in his little black notebook.

- ...and what is your job, sir?

I told him what my job was. He could barely fit it into his notebook.

- Okay, sir, now, do you have a favourite colour?

Red, I said, he wrote it down.

- And what is your favourite number?

Ehhh, gee, let me think... ummm, maybe... 26?

He wrote it down. Then he ripped out the paper with RED 26 on it, squashed it into a ball, stuffed it in my palm and closed my hand into a fist, and said.

- Please sir, hold on to this for a while, hold tight, don't let go...

Then he went on again how he is a yogi and knows this stuff, and was telling me things I wanted to hear about money and happiness. Then he said:

- Ok sir, now, take this paper i gave you and do like this [he took my paper with three fingers, put it on the back of his head, then on his forehead, and then blew in it.]

In this very moment, a strange thing happened. A yuppie approached us carrying a huge portfolio, and said:

- Sorry mate, can I buy a ciggy out of ya?

- Sure, I said, here you go.

- Oh, cheers, thanks mate, good on ya, see I quit smoking but I've had a very rough day....

Mr Birdjangawandharangharamadarikanwi was not very happy with his interruption, and he kind of turned his back on him, throwing him occasional spiteful look over his shoulder. The yuppie understood this body language and scuffed away with his clumsy portfolio.

"I've had a very bad day at the office"

Regaining his composure, Mr Birdjangawandharangharamadarikanwi continued. He gave me the paper and I repeated his moves.

- Now, please sir, open the paper and read it.

Before I opened it, I knew it was going to read RED 26. I opened it, and it was true, RED 26, clearly.

Ok, I asked, very good, how do you know his stuff?

- I'm sorry sir, but I'm from India, Kashmir, you know about Kashmir? And I studied yoga with Great Master Rambamputrarashiwanimanekarandaharghawa [or something], and I can tell you much more, for a small fee.

Oh, there we are, I thought, at last...

He carefully looked around and conspiratorially opened his little black notebook. There was a small white card there. It read:

100$ 200$ 300$
POOR MIDDLE RICH

WOW, I thought, you stop a guy in the street and you ask him for NO LESS THAN 100 BUCKS!!!! This is a whole new kind of hustler, I thought.

- I'm sorry sir, he said, but you're not poor, I believe the middle should do fine.

- Nice, I said, you stop me in the street, show me a magic trick and ask me to pay you 200$, do I look like an American housewife?

I assure you, my hair is nowhere near that thick.

- Sir, please, I am from India, Kashmir, this is not too much for you to pay.

- Yeah, thanks for the trick mate, but I'm not paying you 200$.

He was now looking rather displeased, murmured something and then left. I was left standing amazed in sudden realisation that the yuppie did not pay me for the cigarette as he said he would.