GETTING A JOB.

Auckland Star, Volume LXV, Issue 65, 17 March 1934, Page 7 (Supplement)

GETTING A JOB.

METHODS OF APPROACH. SORTING THE PROSPECTS. (By 0.W.) I admit that I was new to tho game. A handicap this, more serious than my lack of "Push" and my very ordinary abilities. In former times I had accepted new engagements—yes, just like that, no trouble, no dickering and with no idea of the rules governing this arduous pursuit. Luck perhaps, Providence if you like; no matter, all that is past—the limes have changed.

Well, I had many disappointments and no wonder; I laugh now to think of my first feeble efforts. However, "all's well," and I write these notes with the hope that my experiences may prove helpful to those job-hunters who are still on the trail.

My search occupied three months, and in that time I saw many people and learned many things. For instance there was the old buffer in the train. "Unemployed," said he. "Don't mention the unemployed to me." (I hadn't, but I listened). "They don't want work. Plenty of work if people would only look for it." I hoped it was so and felt better for thinking it might be. I know we are taught to suffer fools gladly, but I don't want to meet that old gentleman again; we couldn't remain friends.

And that brings me to my first real effort. I had canvassed all my own acquaintances during the first few days and to give tliem time for the promised "look round" I determined to try my luck in tlie open market.

I picked on a prospect and failed, dismally. All because I confused two names. My prospect—a word used by job-hunters to denote names culled from the directory —was affable. More than that, he was interested until with the casual air one sees in big business, ho said: "Have you read" Skallworthy's latest—about the hospital?" "No," I replied, "but I must get it. I enjoyed his swan song immensely." I saw him shudder and was at the door as his "Sorry old chap" reached me.

This led to my first rule for jobhunters "Study your prospect and keep in touch with current topics." I did just that. I became a mine- of information on sporting, political and foreign events, on literature, gardening and games but, fortunately I didn't need it. I met another adviser. "What you need my boy," he said, "is a method of approach which will get you straight through the assistants to the big noise. Having arrived you must go at him with a practised speech. A greeting, your name and calling, your requirements, a little sympathetic reference to the difficulties in his particular line and then, a pause." It worked, up to a point. I thought ft all out and was word perfect, but the pause was my downfall. Many of the big noises w?re rightly named; they did. Some seemed to have mislaid their noises—until I paused. On three occasions I bumped my head on desk tope while picking up my references from the floor—in a hurry. After this I wrote my second rule. "Practise a method of approach, without a pause, and'don't lose sight of the exit."

I do not propose to divulge my own method for obvious reasons, but as a lead to others I will here quote rule 3, -which is framed from bitter experience. It is, "Don't try to bluff the office boy especially if he be a she." The office boy's list runs something like this: Business, friend, traveller, canvasser, job-liunter. He will classify all callers on his Chief with uncanny accuracy, and will conduct himself accordingly when announcing your presence, if he condescends to do so at all. In this connection I avoid reference to those super-establishments wherein the caller is given a little coloured form and requested tit write his name, birthplace, state, of health and his business. Even the best methods of approach have been known to fall before such unfair tactics.

I persevered. Prospects of all sorts loomed and faded. "Sorry, old chap," and "If times were normal" became daily familiars, and I learned tq take as a joke the well-worn "Where can I get in touch quickly should I hear of something." I forgave the manager who asked me to lunch, "where we can discuss things quietly," and let me pay; and I was grateful to the office girl who said, "Yes, Mr. Brown is in, but I wouldn't see him to-day. He has had bad news from Australia." Pule 1 helped me out then. I knew it was the day after the Melbourne Cup. Three months of this sort of thing Tvould leave a mark on the strongest, but it has been worth while. I have done much. lam firm friends with an excellent cobbler —to his profit. I treat elevator attendants as they should be treated, using lifts only beyond second storeys. "Pavement feet," that bogy of the town walker in summer, has no terrors now. I have survived three attacks. Patrolling guardians of the peace no longer look on mo with suspicion. They know that Ido not loiter after 5 p.m. In short, lam now a qualified job-hunter. I have established a formula and found a basis for negotiation. No, I have not yet found a job, but I do know how to look for one.

I must forgive the Old Buffer of the train and look out for him' again. Ho might tell me where. Took some fresh advice this morning. A doctor. He said, "You've been working too hard, and I think you should rest from business for a week or two, on the beach if possible." I expect to.