The lifeforms were milling and filling in through the doors of the Exhibition Centre in Darling Harbour. The first exhibit was most apt in this protracted time of seeking, one that the visiting masses might one day depend on for most of their "income." JobSearch, in other words, the colourful more graphic easy representation of the government teat that many, many unemployed have come to depend on.
In an effort to educate the people, bags and bags were thrust upon the entering hordes. On the otherside of the valley of The Unblinking Eye, forms were handed out for people to fill in. An act that would become commonplace for those expecting to find it hard in the job market, and that's a lot of people. Fill the form, slip it into the box. The box in this case was a hollowed out and unmarked computer tower. No doubt the leftover shell of a sting operation.
Moving on, we slowed down to what some guy presumed to be a prospective walk up to the TAFE section. It was still daylight and according to Jimmy, I wasn't spinning a life story fast enough, "I wanted to step in and answer for you." For at that point in time I was an undergraduate designer attending some university. The ears of the guy pricked and tried to pounce with the tale of many who move from the staid institutions. He wanted to hand out the bags for his Student Association and I was more than willing to keep up the charade of pretense and false interest. As soon as I touched the bag I was off and from then on it was pretty much a blur of school kids and hot spokeswomen.
There was a bowl of black stress balls on a table under the Australian Institute of Management. I presume they're stress balls, I grabbed a couple when no one was looking knowing full well that my juggling needs wouldn't be met by these extremely light balls. They went fast, but not as fast as the yoyos—even lighter than the balls—from State Training Services. Apparently you were only supposed to get a yoyo if you filled in a survey. Three boxes were emptied in about one minute and not one survey was filled. The CDs disappeared just as fast. No one stayed at the booth, gutted from freebies in two minutes of the swarm. It was nice to watch, even better to participate.
On the second corner I noticed an exhibitor's name without the usual U that would normally follow a place in the Q of things. QANTM. I didn't notice the absence of the second U until talking with one of the guys in the booth when presented with the spelling error. "It's like QANTAS" he said, "QANTAS is an acronym" I shot back. A thick and glossy brochure that explained little more than what was on offer was his response. There was a slight mention about the Queensland and Northern Territory getting together for something, but that still left the matter of the M. The novelty wore thin and we turned away.
And what we turned into was a corner with CentreLink and the Salvation Army's Employment Plus. Organisations I knew of pretty well and didn't want to linger around.
It was at this point Jimmy mentioned something about people trying to convince him to do something. Anything. I felt like kicking a ball through a sea of young job seekers, and the display at Winning Resumes had just that. According to the woman, the metaphor behind the ball and goal was that with a winning resume you could kick start your career. I told her a car that wouldn't work half the time without a serious beating would have been more appropriate given that with the intended it was the news that you've got the job that would be the proverbial goal. She handed me a flyer and a look of disdain.
Taking another moment to readjust the contents of my cotton bag I was handed something foil from Pizza Hut. There were no nearby pizza boxes on hand so I doubt it was part of an experiment to see if the bag worked. "Get used to your equipment" perhaps. Perhaps. But at least it wasn't as scary/odd/freaky/hilarious as seeing a guy in full Ronald McDonald garb and make-up.
Learning German from Charles Berlitz didn't exactly create conversationalist knowledge so when we spotted an outfit of neo-Gestapo style I had to ask, "Do you speak German?" No, and the conversation with the girl from StateRail continued in English. Apparently I floated far off enough that I was forced to take on a business card and not one but two fridge magnets from myfuture. I was knocking up my tally of fridge magnets without even trying.
Nearly tripping over a spattering of bags cast aside at the Australian Institute of Fitness, we spotted a girl holding a barbell outstretched with another girl holding a dowel ready to stake her in the heart. Nearby, free self serve hot coffee and it was taken to by a lot of people. I remember swiping a fan, a fridge magnet and temporary tattoo from the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Studies unit. Don't know why. Might have been after dealing with myfuture.
Aprons were adorned by the people from Michael Hill Jeweller. They didn't have any wares on show and they certainly didn't care enough to spend more than the most basest on their pamphlets. While every one else had either colour or gloss, theirs was starkly like an underground comic. Nothing but photocopies. The lady—at this point I think the eldest I'd seen since opening—accused me of having a musician's sense of humour. "Left of centre."
WorkDirections, another facet of the government was there, and so were some unsharpened pencils and erasers. I don't remember much at this booth, apart from the fact that I told the girl that sharpening the pencils would prove to be a good metaphor to "help people get started" as a pencil fresh from the factory was practically useless without some "help." An unsharpened pencil and eraser later and we were onto the next in a line of lines. "You owe me" said Jimmy. Hey, he was the one who took a side step.
The girls at McGrath Real Estate were clearly out of their gourds. Neither one knew anything about taxidermy, cricket, Scrubs, copy writing or anything outside of The Block and the books and videos they were trying to sell to the passers-by. But then moving over to the CareerChick stand, the poor girl there was thrown for a loop when asked about discrimination and transgenders from Jimmy. Right next to the CareerChick booth was a woman standing in her booth surrounded by Krispy Kreme paper hats. The kids must have thought this to be pretty cool, they were all wearing them like the zombies of marketing.
At the back of the hall was a stage area once with a karate display, a prospective dancer and a guy misappropriating The Simpsons and Einstein. Just a little beyond that was fire truck from the NSW Fire Brigade. May be it was there to "cool down" the crowd sitting around getting massaged and waiting to be massaged at Australasian College of Natural Therapies or for the trolley of ice pushed around in white capris.
One thing apparent from the entirety of the experience was the sheer good looks of many of the spokeswomen. The guys were certainly outnumbered and those that were on hand weren't the visual monstrosities one might have expected. So beauty equates to a job of some sort and what that means, no clear indication was given, but one things is certain, working from home suffers in the glamour department.
Freebies weren't spectacular, if anything, they were weak and ineffectual. CDs and such were given out, but as usual these are insipid and vapid productions from people who only want the brain-dead to commit. Creatives can be bought for a fraction of the price and what they're really into are the souls that will feed the machine under the grounds of the populace. Scores of the broadsheet Sydney Morning Herald littered the left over counter spaces throughout.
On writing this I think I should have employed the use of the pen and pad of paper riding in my pants. At least then I wouldn't have had so many lost thoughts spent trying to figure out where and what Jimmy and I actually canvassed during the expo, or who the hottest was of the spokeswomen. There were a lot of them. But that's a delightfully visual experience and perhaps best left to disappear into the ether.
Reviewed on Monday, 11 August 2003