A Word on Words
My teenage brother has been applying for a Saturday job. He has dutifully stuck his CV into every shop from here to Timbuktu (or Romford) and one desperate, cold Saturday afternoon, KFC and Burger King. He hasn’t quite got to the point of MacDonalds yet, but discussing our wishes for the New Year and hopes for 2012, my brother in a quiet voice said, “All I want is a job in Tesco.” Bless.
Now due to our failing, flailing, flapping economy, he’s not had much luck even with my help in jazzing up his CV (something I’m infamously good at.) You’re talking to a girl who’s been a waitress, chef, mixologist, worked in casinos, lads Mag, newspapers, schools and even (accidentally) sold dodgy time-shares from an office in the Costa Del Sol.
Plump up like a pillow the bits that are good, trim the bits that aren’t so much, and of course, the most important factor when writing anything- know your audience. Write your CV in light of who’s reading it. (I.e you don’t generally need to highlight to a primary school job application that you worked at Nut’s magazine, so on and so forth.)
Why he’s not being flooded with job offers I don’t know; top of his class, sociable, he’s a Miller for Godsake, but even with my help? My C.V tweeking is legendary; I once helped a guy who’s CV had the timeless first line of “I learnt a lot shelf-stacking in Tescos” and turned it into a masterpiece that saw him at an accountancy job interview at before the week was out.
It seems times have changed. Not just ecomincally, but creatively. Recruitment is all show-biz now, with 10 page online application forms wanting to know your star sign and DNA teamed with jazz-hands assessment days that include group role plays and hugging trees.
What has been rewarding though, is reading the rejection emails.
Apparently at Subway, he didn’t get the job as a ‘Sandwich Artist,’ the Bear Factory in Lakeside were unable to offer him the role of ‘Associate Bear Builder’ but KFC holds some hope as they informed my little brother that his ‘qualifications and experience match our requirements.’ (One would hope GCSEs are enough to fry regurgitated chicken.)
I’ve had the pleasure of a corporate slice of recruitment BS myself when I once applied for a part-time job at a gym for some extra cash. Waiting in a room with 80 applicants, an over-enthusiastic member of management charged in, demanding that anyone who had the audacity to forget to bring a pen stand and be shamed for all to see. Those who survived that were handed a questionnaire and told to get the questions right to be able to proceed onto role plays and unpaid trial shifts, upon which time they would glance at our CV. I did wonder if I had stumbled into the wrong room but nope, correct place and pen in hand the questionnaire on being their new part-time receptionist included some of the following questions:
1.How many animals of each species did Moses take on the ark?
2.You get on a bus with 13 passengers, 2 get off, 4 get off at the following stop, 3 get on and two don’t have tickets at the final destination. What was the bus driver’s name?
3. A man builds a house with all four walls southerly facing. A bear comes along. What colour is the bear?
Next day I received the following email; “Due to the great number of highly qualified candidates your application has been unsuccessful for PART TIME RECEPTIONIST.”
I felt my degree certificate burst into flames in a draw somewhere.
It seems that it’s not only recruitment in on the BS game- my mum went to a conference the other day where the woman speaking used the following phrase with a completely straight face;
“It allows you to move around the data in a more organic way.
Should you be allowed to use language like that? Being articulate isn’t for the educated but being articulate means, to put it simply, you know what words mean and you know how to place them in a sentence. I get the feeling that this woman wouldn’t make the cut.
The bottle of Febreze in my kitchen says;
“Inspired by the delicate fragrance of Fresh Thai Orchids for a moment of pure relaxation and Zen.”
Ladies and gentlemen I give you advertising, taking the word euphemism to a whole new level. Who’s getting the last chuckle? Us in the shopping isle at ASDA reading this crap, or the suits writing it knowing it will make us buy the pink bottle of scented water?
Pick up any item in your house, any product, food, toothpaste. Does it actually tell you what it is? Or are so words so pretty and the packaging so bright you can’t remember what it does but you definitely want to buy more of it?
I think the general lesson to be learnt is this; don’t leave a thesaurus in the hands of corporate advertisers. They’ll have you believing that Pret sandwiches are lovingly prepared each morning by smiling ‘sandwich artists’ and Starbucks coffee is fair-trade and reasonably priced.
What we need is a new-age BS scanner; you input the Bull shit and it translates it into Queens English:
Febreze- it takes the dog smell out of your clothes.
Ta da.
