Maciej Frolow is pictured.
I wanted to be Elaine Benes from "Seinfeld" when I was younger.
In the early 2000s, I was on my way. I had been an editor at a beauty magazine. After my husband and I decided to start a family, I left it all behind to become a human pacifier and stay up for 37 hours straight.
I decided to look for a full-time remote job because I have two teenagers who don't need me much anymore. I put myself out there by writing up a resume and cover letter. A 16-year job gap isn't that big of a deal. Age discrimination is against the law. I will be fine.
I was not well.
There were crickets in my inbox.
I was wondering if I was aiming too high. I suppose it's not possible for me to be a remote copy editor at companies like Ralph Lauren and Neiman Marcus. I had been editing and writing before I had kids. I still had great skills. Maybe they could take a chance on me?
I didn't hear back from them after I failed to agree on this. Two months passed. I figured out what it was like to be ghosted after receiving a few rejections. The kids call it that now.
The stars aligned on a glorious day. A prestigious Midwestern university was looking for an editor for their magazines and I was perfect for the job. In a matter of minutes, my resume was on its way. A few hours later, I received a text message from a Recruiter stating that I had met the qualifications for the position and that HR was interested in interviewing me.
Finally! My persistence was paying off.
The interviewer would use a chat message app to conduct the initial informational interview. I haven't been interviewed for a job since 1999. I wore a very fashionable Kasper suit with shoulder pads to every interview because of the 90s. I told myself that things had changed. The companies were interviewing via chat. I guess? I agreed to an initial interview and set a time.
The head of HR contacted me. It was weird that everything was happening so fast, but I had nothing better to do that day, and maybe they were really excited about interviewing me. My contact introduced herself through chat. She asked me if I am a team player after she outlined the responsibilities of the job. How would you deal with someone who is difficult to work with? What strength and weakness do you have?
I was happy that I didn't have to do it in person or over the phone. Even though I'm a writer, I tend to lose my ability to speak English in a stressed out situation. She apologized for conducting the interview via chat but explained that this was the way of the future. Or something. I barely cared because someone else was interested in me for something other than making them food or driving them places.
The interviewer said that I would be a great fit for the position and that I was doing well. She asked if I had any questions after she told me how much the job paid. The university had several publications, so I asked which one I would be editing. If you are selected for this position, she wrote, that will be communicated to you.
Weird. She said I was doing well. I decided to ignore it.
She did apologize at one point for conducting the interview via chat but explained that this was the way of the future. Or something. I barely cared because, well, somebody was actually interested in me for something other than making them food or driving them places.
She asked if I was interested in being paid weekly or biweekly. Direct deposit or paycheck?
I thought about it and answered each question. I think they're going to hire me.
What banking institution do you use to make sure the school's official salary payment accounts are tracked?
I am a stay-at- home mom who gets screamed at by her kids for having the audacity to make vegetable stir-fry for dinner. In almost two decades, nobody had taken me seriously as a professional. My brain mellowed that bright red shade to a pale pink and then threw glitter and sparkles all over it for good measure. This was the biggest chance of my life.
I told her.
I was told to report back to the chat at 9 a.m. the next day for the next step in the hiring process. I did the running man in my kitchen after thanking her for her time.
Someone wanted to hire me. It wasn't the Elaine Benes-like job in descriptive catalog writing that I had hoped for, but it was something in the writing field and it felt like a win.
My gut told me something wasn't right, but I ignored it. For a couple of hours. I went back to the job board site to read the position description. I noticed that it had been removed. There were 80 applications. Normally other jobs on the site stay active for weeks, with hundreds of applicants, so this was strange.
I used the job board to find other open positions at the university. You had to apply for all of them on the career page. I applied for my job through the job board.
There was a bit of panic.
I looked at the career page. There wasn't any mention of an open editor job.
I called the university. For fun. I have interviewed with the head of HR. I was told to email them my concerns. I specifically named my interviewer, who was the head of HR, and asked if they could confirm that this is how they typically conduct interviews.
Things got dark in my head as I waited for a response. Fast. An interview with someone? Is a virtual job offer the same day? Without talking to me in person? Was it high?
I felt sick and panicked, and I was pretty sure I'd just been cheated.
An hour later, a real email from the real university confirmed it. I was told that the head of HR did not interview via chat and that they were not offering an editor position. I thanked them for the quick response, made a comment about hoping I could interview with them someday, and then realized after I hit send that they wouldn't want anything to do with an imbecile who believed a chat interview was standard practice.
I went back to the interview chat and noted every piece of personal information I had given these scum-suckers. They knew my name, the city I lived in, and the fact that I believe my biggest weakness is trying too hard.
What was wrong with me? How could I be so stupid? I used to make fun of the idiots who fell for the phone scam. I thought I wouldn't be smart enough to get sucked into that. I have never taken anyone up on the offer of an extended warranty for my car.
I called my husband because I was terrified that this horrible person was draining our bank account. I was so embarrassed and ashamed that I didn't want to tell him what had happened. He told me that the man/woman/diabolical being couldn't do anything with the sparse information I had given them. I wasn't sure.
The nice customer service rep told me that the person didn't have enough information to do any damage, after I called the bank. I contacted the identity theft company I had a free yearlong membership with, and they said it was unlikely that my identity could be stolen at this point.
The plan was to get me back on chat the next morning, offer me the job, and ask for details about my bank account and Social Security numbers.
I begged the job board site to alert the other 78 applicants that this was a scam before it was too late. I didn't hear back.
What the hell was wrong with me? How could I have been so stupid? I’d always made fun of the idiots who fell for scams over the phone. I thought I’d never be dumb enough to get sucked into something like that.
It has been a few days since the incident, and I still feel stupid, ashamed, gullible, and incapable of holding any kind of job.
I am not going to become Elaine Benes. That isn't entirely true. In the episode where J. Peterman discovers Elaine Benes on a New York City sidewalk in the pouring rain and offers her a job at his catalog, I am not on my way to becoming the Elaine Benes. In the episode where she interviews for her dream job at Viking Press, Elaine Benes pretends she's from out of town so they'll put her up at the Plaza. She tried to explain to the interviewer that she didn't understand. My friend has fleas. My friend couldn't taste his peaches.
Elaine is the person I am.
Maybe someday I'll be able to upgrade to Elaine Benes, who is tasked with spending an entire week picking out the perfect pair of white tube socks for her persnickety employer Mr. Pitt. A girl can imagine.
Although this is definitely a cautionary tale to job seekers, I realize now that it has revealed an embarrassing truth about me. I went along with the interview because I wanted to be wanted. It was valued. It was successful.
I have been at home with my kids for almost two decades, and I feel pressured to be more. Who is pressuring me? Everyone is at the same time. I feel the pressure when I see a commercial for laundry detergent or peanut butter that features a woman who has an amazing relationship with her kids but is also killing it at her job. I feel the pressure every time I talk to a mom who wants to return to the workforce because her kids respect me. Is it possible that I could actually have it all? Without a nervous breakdown? Will I feel like I'm enough even if I get the perfect job?
I don't know. It looks like I'm a little more desperate to feel valued than I would like to admit, regardless of what it costs.
I need to value myself more regardless of my employment status if I have learned anything from getting scammed. It shouldn't be based on what job I can get, just like it shouldn't be based on my value as a mother.
Don't value yourself differently than you are, take my advice.
Do not tell anyone where you bank. Good Lord.
Towbin has written five novels. All six books are on her laptop and she dreams of being plucked from obscurity by a loving literary agent or publisher. One of her essays was placed in the top 10 for the Montana Prize for Humor. When she isn't writing, she is baking, knitting, and trying to find a meal that everyone in her family will eat.
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