Mel and Shane have welcomed me in their home like family. The street they live on is filled with interesting people, most of whom I got to meet because I showed up just in time for an annual street BBQ gathering. The neighbourhood they live in is not within walking distance to any of the big nearby sights, but they back on to a lovely park with several avocado trees- free for the picking, and I have been there for the picking.
Mel stays at home to take care of Zinnia and, now, me. She is kind enough to drive me to nearby places so I can appreciate the area. On this particular day, we go down to the “Mount.” Mount Maunganui is an area of Tauranga, but the people who live there prefer to think of it as its own little place- sort of like the Plateau, or Yorkville, or Kits.
The Mount is absolutely beautiful and a regular stop on the cruise ship circuit. Imagine a skinny and long peninsula with a grouse-grind like mountain to climb on the tip of the peninsula. It is also one of the top surfing destinations in New Zealand because of a seemingly never ending beach along its east coast.
The main street in “downtown” the Mount feels like a charming little village. The whole setting makes me forget about the job and neighbourhood search in Auckland and I decide that this would be a great place to start dropping off some CVs.
The CVs I am using here highlight different experiences from the ones I am used to highlighting for jobs at home. For example, only one of my post-secondary experiences is listed, my time as a floor staff at a fast food restaurant is front and centre, and the fact that I’ve written a master’s thesis is nowhere to be found. My main assets on this job search are experience in customer service and the ability to speak English.
***
I scope out some pleasant cafes that, in this situation, would be the “dream” job. But I also walk by some “dishwasher wanted” signs and think, “hey I could do that, work my way up to being a waiter or bartender.”
Summer is around the corner here and that post winter buzz is in the air. There are several other youngish people with stacks of paper (their CVs) and accented English walking around- it’s the competition! Several other backpackers on working holiday visas are also in the Mount today looking for a coveted summer job.
After a bit of scouting around, I narrow in. I see the charming café that I am surely going to work at and I build up the courage to drop off my CV. I wait outside for a couple of minutes so that the customers inside can get their drinks and free up the barista, then I walk inside…
“Heya, what can I get you today?” asked the barista.
“Oh, hi,” I reply.
Obviously this isn’t the first time I’ve applied for a job, but I’m used to a much more formal process. This time, I struggle to find the right words in the moment.
“I was wondering if umm you guys are hiring or, like, need any help?” I say with a cautious smile.
I’m an obvious newbie at asking for a job and she is an obvious pro at turning people away: “oh, sorry but we are fully staffed for the moment. Have you tried…” and she names a few places that seem irrelevant to me because this, this was the café I wanted to work at, not those places. In my Canadian way, I probably apologised, and definitely thanked her, then walked out of the café.
As I walked down the street, I thought “well there were some acceptable other places to work at, I could try those.” But I decide to first try a few places I’m lukewarm on, that way if it goes poorly again I won’t care as much.
I walk down to the other end of the main shopping street. There is a bar that could do- it’s right across the street from the hostel in town, the picnic tables on the patio are brightly painted, and the place seems to attract a lot of 20 and 30 somethings with cheap burgers and beer on Tuesdays and with loud music at night.
I walk up to the bartender, some blond-haired 20-something German backpacker and say: “hi, I am looking to speak with the Manager.”
She replies: “oh, the manager, she goes on her break right now. Maybe 15-20 minutes. What are you want?”
“I wanted to speak to the Manager about working as a bartender here,” I say.
“Have you any experience?” she queries.
“I have worked in the food and beverage industry before,” I reply, playing up my time as an A&W cashier more than a decade ago.
“Oh, why don’t you have a seat and I will go check with the manager,” she says.
I think to myself that this is going way better than the last place, as I nervously await the manager. Meanwhile, the German bartender returns and says “the manager says we are not hiring, but there is an interview at the bar next to us if you want to go there,” as she points to a bar through their back patio.
I was a bit confused and, after some clarification questions, I basically understand that there is a bar next door currently doing a mass hiring drive because they have been closed doing some renovations and are about to reopen. Today just happens to be the first day of interviews- what timing!
So, I make my way “next door,” which really seemed like it was part of the same bar (just in their back patio), and go inside. There are about a dozen people, mostly young backpackers, most struggling with English, trying to get jobs. I grab a seat in the room. There doesn’t seem to be any line or order among us candidates. The girl sitting beside me is a local who is extremely socially awkward. She keeps asking me questions interwoven with unlimited use of the word “bro.” I am hopeful my interview will contrast well against her interview.
“Next” one of the two interviewers yells out.
Some guy gets out of his seat and goes up. The interview tables and waiting area are actually in the same room, so you can hear all the interviews. This guy is doing well. His experience seems on point and the conversation quickly steers into availability and “trial” shift information. They finish up and the same interviewer again yells “next.”
The awkward girl gets up and goes for an interview. It’s a quick one. “Great, we will be in touch” you hear the interviewer say before again yelling “next.”
The rest of us all look at each other, no one gets up.
“Next,” he says again, somewhat annoyed.
I get up and say, “well, I can go.” I look around, no one objects. The others seem still nervous or in practice mode with a friend. I walk up to the chair and shake the interviewers hand. I offer my CV. He grabs it, mostly interested in the blank side for his note taking purposes.
“Ok, did you email us?” he asks, wondering who I am and what I’m doing here.
“No, I was just told you guys were interviewing and I could come in for an interview,” is my tepid reply.
“What’s your background and experience?” he asks.
I highlight the A&W gig again, because it sort of worked last time. He doesn’t seem to be buying it. I decide I need to be a bit bolder. Time to take a bit of a risk.
“Look, I’m a lawyer and have worked in Canada’s biggest financial centre for the last 5 years. I advised multi-national corporations and high net worth individuals on their Canadian tax obligations. I wanted some time away from that world, so here I am on a working holiday visa. I want to do something that is more socially engaging and I think bartending will be a great fit for me and I’m eager to learn.” I spew out.
Something happened. His demeanour changed and it’s like we became instant friends, “oh yeah I can teach how to bartend. Pouring a drink, making a cocktail is the easy part. I need people with personality, I think you would be great,” he says, as we get to talking about my availability and desired hours…the rest, as they say, is history.
***
I took the bus from the Mount back and Shane picked me up from the closest bus stop on his way home. As we all sat to dinner, I felt like their teenage son a bit telling them about how the job applications went. It looks like I won’t be going back to Auckland just yet…
Impermanent Establishments 