My resume is still floating around on Career Builder, and every so often it sends me an email of job matches based on what it sees in my resume. Today it suggested I apply for a post-mastectomy fitter position at an area hospital.
Maybe it knows about all that ASCII porn the old-school Unix guys throw around their terminals and figures I’m just another white-bearded hacker addicted to the @. Or maybe a co-worker got it right: what male wouldn’t want to work with boobs?
It may sound like a man’s dream job on the surface (a close second to strip club owner), I suspect the reality is significantly less exciting. Ever ask a gynecologist how much he enjoys his job? They’re the first to tell you “They can’t all be supermodels.”
I’m sure that applies here. Now add to it the emotional baggage these women carry out of the cancer ward and the excitement measurement plummets a few more notches.
If someone wants to apply out of a genuine desire to help these women, I say go for it and more power to them. Earn your $20/hour with pride.
If anyone out there wants to apply for all the wrong reasons, I strongly suggest they go watch Fight Club again. You know the scene I’m talkin’ about.