Men in Cages: Nobody Ever Wrote A Ballad About How Much They Loved Their Job

There are a lot of loathsome monsters out there.  Werewolves, dragons, sea creatures, Rory Porkham . . .  But none of these beasts are nearly so evil as the most detestable monster of all: monster.com.

Monster.com probably seems a strange choice of foe.  It’s a website that helps people find jobs; how bad could it be? 

I’ll be the first to admit that Monster does have its good points.  (Unlike some people, I am not so full of rage, ire, and pent-up sexual frustration that I feel it necessary to engage in psychotic, hateful rants.)  Last year, I would occasionally browse Monster’s database of jobs and delight in imagining life as a "phone actress" in Hawaii or as the assistant manager of a Chuck E. Cheese in Alaska.  There’s definitely something to be said for mammoth lists of paths to follow; it’s almost like paging through a “Choose Your Own Adventure” book.

Currently, however, Monster mostly just makes me feel bad about the fact that I don’t have a job.  Monster’s latest ad campaign is directed at inspiring people to find work they're truly passionate about.  In these ads, various actors (well, I assume they're actors, but none of them are particularly foxy, so perhaps they're actual people) wax philisophical about why they work.  These people appear enormously fufilled and their satisfied smiles seem to imply that I too should be excited about the prospect of working.  But in spite of their well-scripted soliloquies, my desire to acquire employment is less than minimal.  I’m preposterously content with a life that consists of sleeping in, obsessively checking gmail, and sporadically wandering to the gym and back.  Part of me wants to be inspired by these ads, wants to make something more of my life.  Another part of me knows that these Monster folks are spewing crap, that their claims of work that feels purposeful and exhilarating are to be ignored.  Essentially, what Monster is doing is setting me up for disappointment.  They're leading me to believe that awesome work is out there; I just haven't yet found it.  They're making me feel bad about doing nothing all day, when really, I should be rejoicing in all the fun I'm having.  Well, Monster, I'm not going to let you torment me.  I know that your reasons why people work do not apply to me and I'm not going to listen to them!            

Says one man in a Monster ad, "I work for my family."

Here’s the thing: I don’t have a family.  (Well, I mean, I have a family.  In spite of what my charm and personal hygiene practices might indicate, I’m not just some lovable scamp of a street urchin.  I have parents.  I have siblings.  I have foster dogs.)  What I don’t have are children.  Given this dearth, the only mouth I have to feed is my own.  And since my father is the sort of person who does work for his family, I can usually keep that mouth fed by freeloading off of him.  So yeah, the family argument isn't going to get me working anytime soon.

(Even if I did have children, however, I still don't know that I'd feel it totally necessary to work.  As anyone who’s read "Running With Scissors" or "The Glass Castle" can attest, the whole notion that “successful parents will provide for their children” is a load of hooey.  F-ing up your kid’s childhood is a sure-fire way to guarantee that said kid will one day write a bestselling memoir (with movie option!) about his or her tumultuous youth.  So go ahead Tori, remain unemployed forever, force your kids to dig through dumpsters in order to find food.  They’ll thank you later.)

A nurse on Monster claims, "I work because I care."

I like to think that I care.  But then I remember that the sorts of things I care about aren’t the sorts of things Monster is talking about.  I care about the lives of fictional characters and whether or not my wrap artist at Chipotle spreads the sour cream evenly across the full length of my burrito.  I'm completely envious of this nurse's commitment to her work; I bet she feels really satisfied at the end of the day.  But really, if I were ever to enter the medical profession, the extent to which I care about “Project Runway” would probably exceed the extent to which I cared about my patients and I’d end up forgetting to give some diabetic woman her insulin because I was distracted by news of a Santino spinoff program or something.  So yeah, it’s probably best that I don’t trick myself into taking a job “because I care;” the results could be disasterous.

Monster's chef states, "I work to create."

This one doesn't work for me either.  Despite the fact that I don’t work, I’ve had no trouble creating all sorts of things over the past few months.  Check out this amazing salad I created for Valentine's Day!  (I don't actually have anything of substance to say here; mostly I just wanted to show off my skillz in the cutting fruits and vegetables into heart shapes department.)   

The real dealbreaker on Monster is the man who proudly asserts, "I work because I love it."

This claim of love goes hand in hand with the line Monster ends all its commercials with: "Whether it's a job or a career, when it's right, it's a passion."  In theory, I adore that line.  Back when I was a young and foolish undergraduate, I wholeheartedly believed I would leave college for a line of work I was in love with.  But, in practice, I was thoroughly uninspired by my work last year and I've spent the past few months realizing that just about every job out there sounds similarly uninspiring.  The listings on Monster don't fill me with passion; they fill me with a desire to stop searching for a job and start searching for "Law & Order" reruns.  I think I’ve resigned myself to the fact that, at least for the time being, my true passion is not working.  If other people want to devote their time to keeping the world turning, let 'em; I'm happier doing nothing.   

If the people at Monster really want to see me put my skills to use in the workplace, they should give me reasons to work that I can relate to.  “I work to finance my blossoming alcoholism,” for instance.  Or “I work because if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be able to eat at Outback Steakhouse so often.”  Those are really my main incentives to get a job.  And since I still have enough money saved up that I can afford a few Bloomin' Onions each week, to Monster I say, "I DON'T work because having responsibilities suuuuucks." 

So this has all sounded profoundly anti-feminist, right?  Fortunate enough to have been born in America, I am a well-educated woman with numerous career options (that monster.com is more than happy to list for me).  Meanwhile, women in Afghanistan are denied the opportunity to become educated and to work.  What kind of statement am I making about my strength as a woman if I’m content to just sit on my ass every day and let opportunities pass me by?  Shouldn't I want to make a difference in the world?  Shape things up for the better?  Afghan women would probably jump at the chance to sift through the Monster database (that is of course, if jumping were allowed in their oppressive culture). 

But the thing is, Afghan women's real problem is not that they are being denied the opportunity to head out every day and sit in cubicles.  Their problem is that there’s an extreme shortage of fun things for them to do while hubby is off earning the dough.  If these ladies were free to toss off their burkas, whip up Rice Krispies treats, and watch “Mean Girls” while painting their gal pals’ toenails, nobody would care that they were being discriminated against.  (Well, there would still be pesky issues such as lack of financial independence and women not having status as people, but since The Bathtub is a feel-good blog, I’m going to brush past these.)

When it comes down to it, very rarely do people work because they want to.  The only reason Afghan women want jobs is that they have nothing better to do.  I'm guessing that after a few weeks of the daily grind, they too would probably say, "Huh, this totally blows.  Why did I ever think performing statistical analyses would be more fun than napping all day?" 

Right now, I'm quite happy as I am.  So for the time being, I'm going to persist in not working.  And once it becomes clear that I can no longer survive without an income, I'll commence running a business that helps Afghan women get HBO and high-calorie snack foods.  And maybe I'll get a Monster commercial of my own . . . One in which I claim, "I work to further the feminist agenda."

"Men in Cages" runs Friday afternoons.  You can read more about Tori here.

Comments

[Lauren]

Notes:

1. Geez, what did The Mayor ever do to you?
2. I get to go to Chuck E. Cheese tomorrow! Not in Alaska, though.
3. Way to slip in La Lohan ever-so-subtly this time--I was wondering how you'd fit her into this one.

[Buddy Love]

Once again, my anxious anticipation of your article has payed off.

Great read.

(And I REALLY appreciate the inclusion - once again - of LiLo. GRRRRRrrrrrrr!)

[Tori]

I thought everyone should know that a mere 77 minutes after completing this post, I got a call from an organization that wants to have a follow-up interview with me. So inspired was I by my anti-Monster thoughts, I screamed in the HR woman's face, "No I don't want a follow-up interview with your shitty company! I want to be FREE!" (Okay, I totally didn't do that at all. Instead I told them that Tuesday sounded fabulous. Ack - I might be working again soon. Better be as lazy as possible until then.)

[Caitlar]

I actually really like my job. No, seriously, I do. It's intellectually challenging, I help people out, I get exposed to all different types of people and cultures, my coworkers are very cool, and my work environment is pretty chill. Okay, I'm just rubbing it in your faces now, I'll stop.

[Inactive account]

But you are the Queen. Of course you have a good job. If you don't like someone, you can have their head chopped off. And you have a jester.

[Alex]

omgwtfbrmb2004eva

Be forewarned that I'm going to read your blog, but I won't be filling it with comments.

[Lish]

Upon reading your blog, it made me ponder several deep thoughts.
1. Why do I work?
2. Do I really like my job?
3. I didn't realize my cat, named Lilo, possessed the same pet name for Lindsay Lohan that you are vehemently obsessed with, eh? Hmm, maybe you should like my Lilo better!
4. Why is monster.com called monster.com? One definition for monster is: a cruel wicked and inhuman person. Perhaps that is what monster.com is...a cruel wicked and inhuman corporation selling jobs like crack (and we all know which one is more fun...)