“The Return of the AI Recruiter: A Love Story in Three Ghostings”

It always starts the same.

I’m sitting at my laptop, halfway through a stale granola bar, convincing myself that refreshing my inbox one more time might unlock a secret job opportunity—like I’m in some kind of digital escape room powered by anxiety and oat milk.

Then it happens.

DING.

Subject: “Hi Alex! Another job just opened up and we think you’d be a great fit!”

Oh really? Another job? That’s interesting, because last time you said that, I applied, poured my soul into a cover letter so dramatic it could’ve won an Emmy, and heard absolutely nothing back. Not even a polite rejection. Just silence. Corporate tumbleweeds.

And now, weeks—sometimes months—later, the AI bot resurfaces, smiling through code, like an ex who sends a casual “Hey stranger” text at 2 a.m.

Let’s be honest: I don’t even remember applying anymore.

I’ve been through so many application portals I feel like Frodo trying to get into Mordor—except instead of a ring, I have a résumé titled “Final_FINAL_ThisTimeForReal.pdf.”

And this AI recruiter—let’s call her Allie—is back in my life like nothing happened.

“Hope you’re still looking!”

Allie, I was looking when I still had hope. When I believed the phrase “actively hiring” meant something. When I thought “we’ll keep your resume on file” wasn’t code for delete.

But that was three career pivots, five breakdowns, and one existential identity shift ago.

Now, I’ve got a new philosophy: if the job doesn’t come with health benefits and emotional validation, I’m out.

Because in the time since you ghosted me, I’ve:

– Updated my résumé more than some people update their relationship status

– Googled “what if I never work again” and actually clicked the second page of results

– Bonded with a sentient mouse named Brad who helps me navigate Indeed listings and occasionally my feelings

– And started a support group called “Applicants Anonymous,” where we sit in a circle, drink lukewarm coffee, and talk about our most traumatic interview questions

I open the link anyway—because hope is a stubborn thing—and what do I find?

The job requires:

– 12 years of experience in a platform that’s existed for 6

– A “can-do” attitude, even though the salary says “please don’t”

– And a willingness to wear multiple hats, which, let’s be real, means “do everything while getting paid for one thing”

Oh, and it’s hybrid.

Translation: commute on your own dime and still answer Slack messages at midnight.

But the AI says I’m a match. A “top candidate.”

That’s what she told me last time. And the time before that.

At this point, Allie and I have a toxic relationship. She dangles job titles like a carrot on a string, then disappears like the Wi-Fi during a Zoom interview.

I don’t even know if I want the job anymore.

I just want closure.

So here’s my response:

Dear Allie,

Thank you for your recent email regarding the opportunity I applied to back when I still believed in capitalism and collagen.

While I appreciate your confidence in my abilities, I must respectfully decline to reenter this loop of algorithmic heartbreak.

Unless this job includes:

– Free therapy

– A manager who knows how to spell “empathy”

– And a legally binding promise that Karen from HR will never use the phrase “We’re a family” again

…I’m going to have to pass.

Warmest regards (and I mean that ironically),

Alex

Founder, CEO, and Sole Employee of “Please Hire Me, LLC”

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