The Job Posting

So I see this job posting. Salary range? $190,000–$250,000.

Right there, in bold font, like a flirtatious wink from the universe.

I do the mental gymnastics. “Okay, Alex. Don’t be greedy. You don’t want to scare them off. You want to seem reasonable… likable… humble.”

So I put $249,000.

You know—for budgetary consideration purposes. Because I’m a team player. Because I care. Because technically, I didn’t go to the ceiling, so they can’t say I’m difficult.

Ten minutes after I apply, I get the email.

“Hi Alex! We’re SO impressed by your background! Your experience is just what we’re looking for!”

I’m hyped. I’m pacing. I’m rehearsing my Zoom nods. I’m updating my “Tell me about yourself” pitch to sound like Morgan Freeman meets a TED Talk.

Then the recruiter calls.

She sounds like she’s at Coachella, but inside a WeWork.

“Alex! Wow. Just wow. I have to say—your résumé? I mean… inspirational. We are obsessed with your experience. I literally sent it to my manager with fire emojis.”

Fire emojis, people. We’re cooking now.

She says she’s “definitely” sending my profile to the hiring manager.

Then she vanishes.

Like a magician who got bored mid-trick.

I check LinkedIn. Nothing.

I check email. Nothing.

I refresh my spam folder like it owes me money.

Still—nothing.

A week goes by.

Then two.

Then the job gets reposted.

Same listing. Same title. Same salary range.

Same everything… except now it’s somehow more urgent.

I think, “Okay, maybe they’re still interviewing.”

Another week later? Posted again.

At this point, this job posting has had more comebacks than Cher.

So I apply again—just to see what happens.

This time I put $248,000. You know. To humble myself even further.

Guess what?

Another recruiter calls. Different name, same energy.

“Hi Alex! We are blown away by your credentials. I was just telling my colleague how you’re the perfect match for this role.”

I ask if the hiring manager ever saw my last application.

She dodges like I threw a dodgeball.

“Oh… I’m not sure. But THIS time we’ll definitely make sure it gets in front of them.”

And again—ghosted.

I start to wonder if the “hiring manager” is even a real person. Maybe it’s just a mythical creature, like Bigfoot or a functioning company intranet.

Or maybe… I am the job.

Maybe they just repost it to study my reactions. Like LinkedIn’s very own version of The Truman Show.

At this point, I don’t even want the job. I just want closure. Or at least a “Thanks, but no thanks” from someone not named Kayla.

I dream of one day being told, “You weren’t selected,” and not taking it personally—because at least I was selected to be rejected.

But for now?

I’ll be over here. Crafting my résumé. Lowering my salary ask one dollar at a time. And whispering into the void:

“Dear Hiring Manager—if you’re real… blink twice.”