July 20th, 2010


Last ditch battle

The way it works in The Netherlands, if you're out of work and claiming benefit, is that you send off an certain number of applications (the number to be determined by your case manager) a week. You will have to keep all the letters/e-mails you send and receive in hard copy to take to your meetings with this person, as well as keep a spreadsheet in which they are listed (date, company, position, response) in a secure online environment that your case manager also has access to -- just to make sure you're not slacking on the job of finding a job. So on Saturday, to make up my required number, I filled out and sent in an open application form on Crédit Agricole's website. I knew there weren't any jobs going at the moment, but I figured I might as well -- after all, I know the company inside out, I have all the qualifications they require of their employees courtesy of them, and had enjoyed working there until The Bitch threw a spanner in the works two months ago.

Perhaps naive of me, but I thought my details would be handled confidentially by the HR department. Wrong! I've just received an e-mail from The Biatch's henchman, expressing their surprise at receiving my application and wishing me the best of luck in finding suitable employment elsewhere.

To which I have just fired off an e-mail in which I very politely reiterated my reasons for believing I would be an ideal candidate for any future vacancy, given that I know the company inside and out, know its products, its processes and procedures; have a proven track record of success within it (which they need only lift my file at HR for to verify) and have been trained up by the company, which means that if they force me to look for employment elsewhere, will be money down the drain as far as they're concerned; and ended by requesting they keep my application on file (and treat it with a little more respect next time -- though I didn't say it, it's there between the lines). And I bcc-ed the Board of Directors on it, as I'm sure they can't have forgotten me so soon.

But now the adrenaline is leaving my body, and the overriding feeling I'm left with is that of embarrassment.