MIDTOWN SKIN ESSAY 4: JOB MARKET
LinkedIn is a tower of screaming youth. New York City is a LinkedIn multiprojection, on a perfect black wall. It’s a failure. Investment bankers point and laugh and forget the time they showed up for their first day of work.
In another American location, a sandy-haired surfer kid leans against the construction site fence. This is the new World Trade Center building in Lower Manhattan. The guy removes an iconic American cigarette from his Carhartt and smokes for the first time. I’m reaching understanding, he thinks. Ten minute break as required by his union.
He looks across the busy financial street to a Irish bar called Green River. He smiles. There is a pretty girl form Louisiana in there. She always works Tuesdays. Sometimes they share a bed. This is America.
The boy is doing this job because it is easier than Teaching For America. He wanted to direct movies about the inner city, but now he is thinking of writing a novel about construction workers that construction workers will not read. It seems fitting. His break is over anyways.
A high-power executive search firm is very busy on Saturday in 2012. Everyone wants out. Everyone is tired of their current position.
The firm sets everything up. The usual thing is to meet at a golf course. No names. No company stationary. Just vague business chat and sports talk. There are seldom women. The course is clear today – the search firm has purchased rights to the entire back nine.
The sun is shining and everyone is having a great time. It’s the middle of winter in Westchester.