You never know when opportunity is going to come a-knocking. Usually it arrives after sending out some over-exaggerated resume claiming everything from knowing a second language (you can say “I want Taco Bell” in Spanish) to your pet-sitting experience.
Other times, you might meet some tipsy old man at a baseball game who drunkenly offers you a job. I had the good fortune of meeting opportunity this way.
This is pretty cool to me because rarely does anyone receive a great opportunity from drinking. Granted there are plenty of people that think they have. However, in sober retrospect, I’m sure they realized that dominating the karaoke mic at G Street Pub was stupid. And dancing on their creepy pole was, too.
Let’s get back to the chance I was given. I was at a Giants game in September when I found myself sitting in front of four drunk old men. My friend Pedro, who was just as drunk (but not as old), became their temporary best friend.
It was soon revealed that one of them managed an organic chocolate company. Coincidently, I used to work at a chocolate factory. I was basically an Oompa Loompa but much taller – and less orange. I don’t believe I ever burst into song either.
Anyway, with the liquid courage of a vodka Sprite flowing through his veins, Pedro name-dropped me to the man and I was given his contact information. I wasn’t going to actually e-mail the guy, but Pedro and my empty bank account convinced me otherwise.
So I wrote this creepy e-mail about meeting him at a Giants game and hoping he’d consider me – the chick he randomly met for 10 seconds – for a job. I say creepy because I fully expected him to have no recollection of that night or me. I probably could have said he promised me the company along with his car and he’d have no idea.
Well, this past week I finally received an e-mail from the man I’ll call White Chocolate. Without asking for a resume, references or even my criminal record (not that I have one …), he offered me a job – more specifically, a job that pays me a hundred bucks for every three-hour demo.
My gut tells me to be suspicious of such a sweet deal just being handed to me. But I’m definitely going to ignore it and take the offer.
White Chocolate told me my job would be to give product demonstrations in the Sacramento area. While I like the professional sound of this business jargon, it roughly translates to me being one of those awkward sample people at a Costco. From my understanding, I will basically park myself at an aisle in Whole Foods and badger people to buy vegan chocolate. Whatever. I’m still in.
Sure, there probably isn’t much mobility in this line of work. I don’t believe I will rapidly move up the vegan chocolate company ladder to some crazy dream job in organic foods. I’m just saying that as college students, it doesn’t hurt to network a little.
Go to some random events and throw your name out there. I don’t even like baseball, nor am I remotely vegan. Yet now I’ll be working for a vegan group all because I got dragged to watch a sport I’m not in to.
That last paragraph sounded kind of bleak. I swear I’m pretty psyched about this odd turn of events.
The bottom line is even if you’re not looking for an opportunity, one can still find you. The odds of this happening, though, greatly increase when the bearer of opportunity is buzzed.
AMANDA HARDWICK hopes she doesn’t get fired from the job she hasn’t even started yet for writing this. Vegan chocolate is awesome! If my new employer is reading this and is displeased, they can fire me at email@example.com.