The Righteous Fury of the Underemployed

I accomplished my two goals fairly early today: I snagged a couple of free books from the Tor booth (Pay The Piper by Jane Yolen and Adam Stemple and Invasion of the Road Weenies by David Lubar. It was wholly accidental, since I was standing next to another librarian who spotted them in the booth, so the boothmeister gave me one too, apparently to placate me. Whatever: they were free!), and I got a tote bag from the Book TV booth -- it's not as substantial as all the Penguin bags I've been seeing all around, but baggers can't be choosers.

With the important part of my mission complete, I set about trying to rustle me up a job. The first booth that I stopped at was also the least pleasant, Queens Library. OK, I haven't done this much, so if I approach you a bit shyly, you don't treat me like I'm carrying the plague. It is bad customer service. She was all like, "You want me to look over your resume? Or do you want to use your time more effectively somewhere else?" I SWEAR TO GOD THIS IS TRUE. The fact that I'm agnostic shouldn't suggest otherwise, although my family's tendency for dramatic embellishment perhaps should. I told Queen Bitch to keep the resume, and walked away.

I'm completely freaked out by this, because I'm easily freaked out, and I stumble over to the Broward County booth, a place where I have an application on file, and the guy's trying to ask me this, but doing so very, very quietly. Eventually we figure out that I am in the system, and suddenly I have an interview today at 3:30 PM, and I freak out more, because I left my suit at home, because it was dirty from my having driven from Salem, VA, to my home in it last Monday. I have a sport coat, but still, no tie. So in a daze, I wander over to the OCLC booth, pausing only to grab a packet from the Washington, D.C. Public Library, and I am forced to tell the OCLC guy that I have no skills even remotely useful to them. And then I run. Well, walk briskly, with the illusion of knowing where I am going.

I eventually end up on the other end of the convention hall, sitting on a concrete thing, distractedly fishing through my admittedly meagre swag. This is, after all, my first conference, and I find myself navigating its dark water all by myself. I take a moment to regroup. It suddenly occurs to me, Why the hell should I be the one getting freaked out? Sure I need a job, but they need people for their jobs, and if they have the upper hand because it's ultimately their choice, then I have a choice too. At least theoretically. So, seething with the righteous fury of the chronically underemployed, I stalked back to the application area, and once there, went up to the first free booth and said: "I am a recent library graduate, and most of my experience is in reference services. I need a job. Can you help me?" Which, rather refreshingly but not surprisingly, seemed to get a really positive response. Suddenly every library system had a least a couple of positions for entry-level reference librarians open. I did this a few times with the libraries I would be interested in working for: they were primarily urban areas anyways, which would be best for me. The woman from San Francisco was very enthusiastic, which I'm not surprised about, since even on the relatively high librarians salary they offer, I could probably only afford to live in a broom closet. I didn't stop by all of the booths -- I avoided the Chicago booth because I knew that after Mayor Daley's pretty speechifyin' last night, that the prospect of getting an interview would probably be slim, although I may stop there after the interview tonight -- but as the heady blend of adrenalin and indignance was wearing off, I wandered to the booth for the San Diego library. Apparently all those impending librarian retirements we hear about in library school are concentrated solely in the San Diego area, and he wanted to interview me, even before I have officially submitted an application. So I will be interviewing with him tomorrow morning at 10:30 AM, before I leave.

Because of the interview today, I'm not going to be going to any more programs. I don't honestly care, because it has occured to me that, until I know what sort of library I am working at, it's sort of hard to know what I ought to be preparing for. Besides, after hearing the lesbian poetry, a boring old program about the state of crisis in academic publishing would be a bit of a let-down. I skipped the Pride Parade, because personally I think I'll have a lot more pride when I have medical and dental insurance.

I watched, and didn't particularly like, "The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou": it seems to me that Wilson gets really good actors, and then has them deliberately act extremely badly. With the exception of his brother, who isn't a good actor to begin with.

Still wishing that I knew anyone at all in Chicagoland. If only Jeff decided to move next week, instead of last week! At least if I were employed, my co-workers might be here. As it is, aside from Whitney and Dr. Mika, I have seen two guys from the LIS program who I never got around to talking to. It occurs to me now that "Hey, didn't you go to Wayne State?" would be a good ice-breaker. I may see them both tonight at the alumni reception, anyways.

Song: Emiliana Torrini, "Unemployed in Summertime"

UPDATE:Somehow I think the women of Broward County were singularly unimpressed with my showing. I spoke confidently and clearly, trying not to let the 17 other interviews around us distract me, and looked them directly in the eye. But their responses to me were clearly the responses of two weary women who have every intention of going to get smashed on Cosmopolitans the minute this dull day is over. They didn't even have my resume, or any information about me, in front of them as they were interviewing me. They asked me 10 questions, and only occasionally bothered to write down what it was that I said. One of the questions was to name four sources where you could send a patron to find biographical information. The four I listed were Who's Who, World Book, "online sources, I can't remember the names of", and "duh, I don't know". Good show, Bill. Except, hello? I HAVE MY GOD-DAMNED DEGREE! I HAD TWO REFERENCE COURSES! I was so embarassed by my performance that I didn't even know how furious I was. I know it is a standard thing for them to ask, but why? I graduated from an ALA-accreditted school. I was very upfront about not having worked in a library before, and I think reference sources are something you learn by practice. And yet I was stammering like an idiot.

I know San Diego will go better tomorrow. It has to.

Oh, and I talked to the Chicago people: they are hiring, once I've submitted my application and transcripts, they will contact me for an interview.