Ed. note: Welcome to the latest installment of “Janet Raiffa’s Recessionals,” a column by a laid-off recruiting manager in New York. Prior columns are collected [here]. You can reach Janet Raiffa via LinkedIn, leaving a comment here, or emailing 405club@gmail.com.

In my investment banking days I used to joke with colleagues about my being the “Paris Hilton of MBA Recruiting.”  Each time our press department received a request for a comment on the competition for summer internships, or an appearance was solicited for a career services video on the recruiting process, I would rush madly in the direction of the reporter, microphone or camera.  When I shared leadership responsibility for the campus recruiting effort I would literally push my co-manager – an elegant but emaciated Brit – out of the way in my eagerness to land the press quote for our team.  Luckily for me, his size made this fairly easy.  My undergraduate drama minor clearly left me with a deep-seated and unsatisfied lust for fame, but I also believed that becoming a widely quoted expert would assist my career progression in the long-run.  This did indeed prove to be true; I once, for example, received a call from a headhunter who told me that she had discovered me simply by Googling “MBA recruiting.”

You’d think that being without a professional pulpit would diminish my desirability to members of the media, but I’ve found that this isn’t really the case.  Since I’ve started publically confessing to the strange things I’ve been doing to generate a few dollars and keep my spirits up after my layoff I’ve been interviewed several times by French reporters, and once each by the Gotham Gazette and Huffington Post.  The last piece actually brought me an odd job inquiry through facebook, although when I met the woman and learned that she had been laid off twice in a row it diminished my desire to accept money from her for birdsitting. I don’t think I have the best story either.  I’m not a former $750,000 a year executive now delivering pizza for Domino’s, I’m not a worst case scenario of someone who has had to move into a shelter due to a long delay in the processing unemployment insurance, and unfortunately I’m not one of those great “banking to baking” or “corporate lawyer to Swedish masseuse” stories of someone who has moved from a high-paying desk job to a more tactile and fulfilling one.  While my story lacks the drama of so many tales of professional reversals of fortune I’ve read recently, the fact that I love to talk seems to have made up for it.

I was recently contacted by Reuters TV about being interviewed for a piece they are doing on layoff victims trying to move into different fields.  I’m not necessarily trying to move into a different field – I’m trying to move into any field that will take me – but beyond the worry of the camera invariably adding ten pounds, I was ready for the ego boost of a strong light and camera aimed directly at me. During my phone discussion with the reporter, Karina, I learned that in addition to the interview I’d also have to be shot in action for the “b” reel, and that I should be doing something relatively colorful that related to my odd jobs.  I didn’t have a bird-sitting gig scheduled, and they couldn’t shoot me checking on trailers in a dark movie theater, so I suggested filming me posting flyers and speaking with shopkeepers in an attempt to find reality show participants.  I’m still desperately in search of women from 24-35 who would be willing to have a debt makeover conducted by a financial professional and their parents.

I set up an appointment for a few days after my screening discussion, and began to manically clean my apartment and transform my physical self in preparation.  I cleaned the bathtub, somehow convinced that I would be captured perusing help wanted advertisements while taking a bubble bath, and I scrubbed the area under my kitchen table in case they wanted to shoot me editing student resumes while dining on Ramen noodles.  I dyed my hair a serious and employable shade of brown for $2.99, hoping that viewers would realize that highlights were out of reach on my current take home pay, and I lined up a little assistance from Spanx to address the areas Dr. Atkins has yet to melt. I also mentally reviewed the questions I’d been asked by reporters writing on unemployment in the past, and prayed that I didn’t get the always difficult one of “How much longer can you survive without out a job, or go financially before you have to move or make another dramatic change in your way of life?” Like the interview inquiry about what your greatest weakness is, there never seems to be a right answer for that one.  You suspect that they want an answer that you have only a few weeks left of savings and your unemployment is running out so that they can come back and film you being thrown into the street, and the response that you have a strong safety net from an inheritance and a favorable real estate transaction years ago always seems to be a let-down.

On the day of the interview both the comfortable Restoration Hardware couch and loveseat I’d dusted off and fluffed up for my perch were rejected as promoting sinkage, and two kitchen chairs were put together face-to-face between my bathroom and bookcase.  I’d be shot with my back to my library of Franklin Mint leather bound classics, so even if I came off as desperate and directionless I’d at least look impressively literate.  The interview began with the stocky cameraman wedged into the narrow corridor to my bathroom, and Karina informing me that she and her questions would be cut to highlight me and my responses.  The questions themselves were fairly easy, and thankfully did not include numbers like my age or former salary.  Was I depressed when I was first laid off? What turned it around for me? What were some of the odd jobs I was undertaking while I looked for full time work?  Was there any benefit for me in being laid off? I couldn’t say that I’d discovered a whole new career that I liked better than my previous one, but I did have a few positives to offer.  During my tenure as a layoff victim I’ve lost over 20 pounds from going to the gym more and taking on physical projects, and I’ve started writing again after years of doing nothing more than posting summaries of recruiting events on my internal firm website.  I also told her that I’ve used this period to explore several interests that I’d dropped in the long ago transition from the academic world to the career world.  While many of my theater friends pursued careers in the arts I went corporate, and now I had the chance to undertake a “glamour” job in trying to assist a friend with television show casting.  While many of my perpetual graduate student friends had gone into academia, I now had the chance to work with MBA students in reviewing their resumes and helping them understand how they looked to recruiters.

Karina seemed pleased with my candor and enthusiasm but had to instruct me to speak in shorter sentences for more distinct soundbites.  I tried answering some of the questions again, and she agreed to helpfully wave when I needed to wrap up my remarks.  If only I could get job interviewers to do that so I know when I have been going on too long!  After the interview, we headed down to 7^th Avenue for the action shots.  They filmed me walking up the block in the direction of the camera - and much to my chagrin - walking away from the camera.  They filmed me walking up to a lightpost and posting a flyer, and then zoomed in on the text. The most exciting part of this was the quizzical looks from passerby.  Was I someone famous? Why was I being filmed? They then needed to film me going into a shop and speaking with a salesperson about the casting project.   This, of course, required me to first go into the shop to inform my impending co-star that a cameraman would be coming in, and to give a briefing on the scenario.  I tried a jewelry store first where the swarthy Israeli looking man behind the counter seemed very receptive to the idea that I needed his help in casting a reality show, but regretted that he couldn’t participate because, he said, “I cannot be on camera.”

I had better luck with the owner of a shoe store a block away and his young salesgirl.  They played along quite willingly, and Karina even got into the action by posing as a shopper.  I walked into the store as casually as possible while sucking in my stomach for dear life, and got my made up “lines” perfect on the first take.  It was only minutes into the shoot that we realized we might have a genuine problem.  Karina and the salesgirl detected that we were also being photographed by a man in a car across the street from the shop.  I hadn’t seen anything because I was so absorbed by my “scene” and was facing in the opposite direction, but they confirmed that he had a camera trained on both of them.  Karina asked the shop’s proprietor to go out and write down the license plate, and while he was outside began a discussion of the man’s possible motives.  “Could he be shooting pictures for a website featuring women with large busts?” she asked.  “Is there such a thing for clothed women,  a “girls gone not wild?” I responded.  Perhaps I had become so famous for being not employed that I was being stalked by paparazzi? Whatever the case, the man had disappeared when we finished everything in the shop and went outside, and we were able to restrain the cameraman from rushing across the street to look for him and punch him in the face as he had offered.

When I got home I reviewed the events of the shoot, and pondered whether the publicity and televised appearance would help or hurt me.  I’ve heard again and again that it’s essential to let everyone know that you’re looking for work, and I’ve gotten my best leads from word of mouth rather than direct applications, but do I want to become famous for being unemployed?  Would a hiring manager have an issue with offering a job to someone who has spoken so publically about being laid off by a previous employer, or is downsizing so common these days that the stigma is gone? Is all publicity truly good publicity? Whatever the answer, I got a follow-up call and email saying that Reuters wanted to expand the piece and needed another odd job to shoot.  Would the bird I sat for be available for an appearance anytime soon?  I can’t disappoint my future fans, so I dashed off a note to the bird’s owner inquiring about his schedule.

Reminder: Prior installments of Janet Raiffa’s Recessionals can be viewed [here]. She appreciates your feedback.