Luck (and Picking on Headlines 3)

I’m going with something a bit more personal today. But first, here’s the headline from MarketWatch.com on Saturday morning:

Panic is slowly gripping the stock market. Expect the selling to pick up next week.

Panic isn’t slow, and if panic already has its grip on the stock market wouldn’t the selling already be taking place?

Now for the personal story about luck.

I knew if I ever wanted to work in wealth management, I had to pay my dues in a big city, so I got on a plane to Toronto the same day as my last class at UVIC. Vancouver was off the table (it will forever be a place I travelled to every other weekend for soccer or rugby), and though Calgary was in the midst of a boom, Toronto was the only place I wanted to go.

I don’t know how, but I managed to secure a few telephone job interviews with some firms in Toronto while still in class. One firm was somehow interested in me, and told me, “Vince, get out to Toronto. Call us when you’re here and we’ll get your paperwork signed. Congratulations.”

Truth be told, I had no idea what the job was. I just knew it was with a firm on Bay Street and that I needed to get to Toronto. I told everyone I knew (and some I didn’t) about my “big job on Bay Street.”

A few weeks later, I got off the subway at King Station, walked a block, and then took the elevator up to that firm’s office on the 25th floor. I had never been that high up in a building in my life. They were expecting me.

“Hi, I’m Vince Herlaar. I’m here to speak with John and Jane.*” John and Jane were the two people I interviewed over the phone a few weeks earlier.

“Sure, Mr. Herlaar, take a seat.”

I waited for what must have been forty-five minutes until Jane finally came out to greet me. “John won’t be joining us, Vince. Please come this way.”

By her tone and John’s absence, I knew things weren’t right. What followed was the interview from hell.** I’ll spare you all but one of the embarrassing details (there were many): when asked about my organizational skills I told them I had a great memory and didn’t need to write things down to remember them. Oh, dear.

“Thanks, Vince. If you haven’t heard from us within two weeks, please follow up with HR. Here’s their recruiting manager’s business card.”

I wanted to ask about the paperwork they told me I was supposedly there to sign but thought best not to bother my future employers.

Two weeks went by without a call or email. I called the recruiting manager. It went right to voicemail. “Hi, it’s Vince. I’m still very interested in the job and look forward to hearing from you.”

A week went by with no news, so I emailed and called this time. The call went right to voicemail again.

I tried a few more times over a few more weeks. Voicemail every time. 

My small nest egg of savings was evaporating, so I applied for every possible finance job I could find. It was the Great Financial Crisis, so opportunities were scarce, but I still applied to every single job posting. I’m sure I applied to over a hundred positions.

I received just one call back. The guy asked me for lunch. He was the epitome of a Toronto finance bro (picture Patrick Bateman with a Kennedy trust fund). I spilled the burger I ordered on my cheap suit. Then he laughed at me, made me pay, talked about heading up to Lake Country for the weekend, and wished me luck.

Bartending jobs were listed everywhere and I needed money. I also had experience making drinks, so I applied for a job at some swanky wine bar in Yorkville. The French head chef and I hit it off and I got the job on the spot. He told me I’d start on Labour Day weekend.

I had to call my parents to let them know that my big move to Toronto had landed me behind a bar again. My mom asked me the names of all the financial firms I applied to. I listed all of them. She recognized one.

“Vince, I know a salesperson at one of those firms. He’s a Chelsea fan. He’s here in Victoria but give him a shout.”

I emailed him, and he called me back almost immediately. "Vince, I'm actually in Toronto right now. Send me your resume and I'll hand it to a hiring manager.” Given Chelsea had won the Premier League that year, I decided to congratulate him too.

The next day I got a call, and a week later I had an interview. I practiced for that interview for hours. I watched every YouTube video I could find about “nailing a job interview.” This was in the early days of YouTube, so I’m not sure how good the advice was, but I still nailed that interview.

Then I didn’t hear anything for a few weeks.

It was the Friday before Labour Day. I hopped on the subway for Bay Street. For those not familiar with Toronto, when you get off the subway at Bay Street station, you can exit into Yorkville. It was time to be a bartender again. At least I was close to Bay Street.

Then, on that half block walk to the restaurant, my phone rang. “Hi, Vince. We’d like to offer you a full-time position starting next week.”

I turned around and got right back on the subway. I never bartended again.

*Not their real names.

**With credit to comedian Richard Lewis.