Unhireable - The Legend Of Alex

So I get this message—polite, thoughtful, but with the energy of someone pulling me aside at a wedding to say, “You’re hilarious, but aren’t you worried about Grandma?”

This guy says:

“Alex, I read your posts. They’re funny… a little too funny. But I can’t help wondering—don’t you want to be hired again someday? Don’t you think recruiters might be watching? Isn’t this, you know… career suicide?”

Sir.

You think this is my villain origin story?

You think I woke up one day and chose violence against HR for fun?

No, friend. I was made in the shadows of ATS systems, forged in the fires of “Thanks for your application, but we’ve decided to pursue other candidates” emails… and broken by round four interviews that ended with a LinkedIn post about “being ghosted hurts us too.”

Let me explain something, Carl.

I’m not here to bash recruiters. I’m here to give a TED Talk to the unemployed—standing on a stage made of broken NDAs and unpaid take-home assignments that were “just part of the process.”

You want to know if I’m afraid to be hired again?

Buddy… I can’t get hired again. I’m out here uploading my résumé, then being told to manually retype it line by line into an application portal last updated during the Bush administration.

(And not the second Bush.)

I’m not sabotaging my chances.

They’re already buried under the algorithm that thinks I’m “too experienced,” a hiring manager who wants “energy” over skill, and an intern named Kayla who’s setting culture fit filters like she’s swiping on Tinder.

And yeah—maybe I’m not “corporate safe.” But I am “coffee shop legend” certified. And at least once a week, someone messages me to say:

“I laughed. I cried. I didn’t feel alone for 10 minutes. Thank you.”

You think a job offer can beat that?

You think Chad from Procurement is gonna top that dopamine?

As for a side hustle—yes. It’s called surviving unemployment with sarcasm and Target-brand Wi-Fi. I’ve got 8 notebooks full of rejection letters, 3 houseplants I’ve trauma-bonded with, and one raccoon who lives outside my window and judges my life choices.

So respectfully…

I’m not gonna stop writing just because it might make me “less hirable.”

If anything, I’ve never felt more hireable—because I can lead, write, build a brand, unite the job-hunting masses, AND still show up for interviews without crying. (Mostly.)

And if this somehow makes me “unprofessional”?

Then maybe the definition of “professional” is overdue for a performance review.