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"FacebookPinterest\n\nnormally I enjoy reading stories about the villains of the recession, those unscrupulous cads who prey on people's debts\u00A0and desperations. Tales of their exploits and comic-book capture have a redemptive, gotcha quality. But I felt something different when I read about an insidious wave of \"career marketers\"\u2014scam artists who are taking advantage of the newly unemployed by collecting huge fees, then doing little more than rewriting their r\u00E9sum\u00E9s. (One guy's bill was $8,250. Must have been an amazing r\u00E9sum\u00E9.) What I felt as I read all about it was shame. Because I once was that man. The evil one. It lasted two and a half days, and shaped the rest of my life.\n\nSince this recession is full of shysters confessing their sins, I offer my tale as a (way) belated apologia.\n\n I was fresh out of college, in debt and in need of a job, and the country was pulling itself out of a different recession when I responded to an alluring classified in The Washington Post. The ad was seeking a young \"writer\" and \"self-starter.\" I thought: I can write! I can totally start my self! I pictured my boss as a genial lover of literature, the sort who might brush past my desk at five and ask, \"How's that novella going?\"\n\n What the ad led me to was the sprawl of Rockville, Maryland, land of carpet emporiums and cheesecake factories, and to the shoddy, carpet-stapled offices of an \"employee consulting\" firm\u2014basically a glorified r\u00E9sum\u00E9-writing operation. I was hired on the spot, which I suppose is an encouraging sign from a company hawking access to jobs. And sure, if you want to get all technical about it, I was doling out career advice before I'd ever had a career. Our office was tucked away in a strip mall, directly across from an Arby's, which lent the place instant credibility. Never far away? The curled promise of roast beef.\n\n My boss\u2014it was just the two of us\u2014was a chubby, subhygienic cheesecake eater whose stained jackets carried the crumbs and fallen memories of eight meals a day. (Years later, when I would read A Confederacy of Dunces, I would recognize him as Ignatius J. Reilly.) Ignatius tutored me on the philosophy of job consultation: These people who come to see you are desperate and hurting. You are here to give them hope. That, and to sell them on the best \"package\" you can. Package 1, The Career Starter, simply involved rewriting their r\u00E9sum\u00E9s, using words like \"dynamic\" and \"actionable.\" Cost to the consumer: $550. Package 5, The Ecutive Care Package, was the delu treatment\u2014said r\u00E9sum\u00E9 to be printed on much better paper and trumped up with formal letters and follow-up notes to would-be employers (\"Thank you for almost meeting with me today. I found the working environment at your offices extremely dynamic\"). Grand total: $1,450.\n\n The first day, I sat in and watched Ignatius work his magic\u2014one Ecutive Care Package sold to a big-dreamin' retail manager by noon. Ka-ching! By Day Two, I was on my own, with Ignatius hiding in the next room, supervising, and mostly eating Twizzlers.\n\n Soon, a middle-aged man came in and silently plopped in the chair next to me. I was terrified.\n\n \"You people got any jobs?\"\n\n \"Well,\" I said, maybe a little too perkily, \"we don't have any jobs per se\u2014\"\n\n He just glared at me. \"What the f*** is purrrsay?\"\n\n Clearly he did not enjoy my dynamic nature.\n\n \"Well, it's a Latin phrase meaning \u2018intrinsically' or \u2018in and of itself.' But if you're look\u2014\"\n\n He was already gone.\n\n Ignatius came out of hiding in a disappointed waddle. \"Not so great,\" he said. \"You scared him off!\" He pointed to the door meaningfully. Was I getting fired? On this, my second day?\n\n \"Arby's?\"\n\n We strolled across the parking lot, and, over a three-course midday supper, Ignatius tried to teach me how to sell: \"Don't intimidate. Don't try to be so...smart-y. You can do a lot with your eyes.\"\n\n I don't know if it was Ignatius, his eyes, or the tantalizing pressed-beef sandwich, but I came back to the office ready to kill.\n\n The next morning I got my chance.\n\n A morose bear of a guy named Mike shuffled in with his wife, and together they told me his sob story. He'd been laid off as the manager of a carpet store. Couldn't find work, couldn't sleep. She said some nights he'd been driven to tears, and it was hard for her, too. I explained the power of The Career Starter and let my eyes do the work, conveying empathy and the exciting opportunities awaiting Mike's signature.\n\n \"I feel pretty confident we can help you get back in the game.\"\n\n I heard Ignatius cough. This was a sign to go in for the kill.\n\n \"Have I told you about The Ecutive Care Package?\"\n\nMan, I pushed that package like I believed it would not only save them; it would ignite my own self-starting life. I must have been channeling Ignatius\u2014I was on fire. The guy bought the damn thing, too. Acted like we were doing him a favor.\n\n Somewhere in the cosmos there walks a man named Mike to whom I owe a whopping $1,450.\n\n It was left to Ignatius to close the deal, to drum up the letters and dream up the adjectives. I took an interminable lunch break that Dark Wednesday that caused me to drive very, very far away. In fact, I could not bring myself to return to the office. I won't go back to Rockville, and I like to think I'm still on that lunch break."^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
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