Search for work, even part time, is daunting

Kim Palchikoff

Wednesday, Sept. 21, 2011 | 2 a.m.

I moved to Las Vegas in January to document the history of the Russian circus community that has helped turn this city into the circus capital of the United States.

I was excited about the year to come and the possibility of writing a book about these circus clowns in the desert. Chronicling the lives of these performers has been a passion of mine for more than two decades.

I was armed with a Nevada Humanities grant, but knew I’d also need a job — any job, really.

Just in case it took a few months to find employment, I persuaded some East Coast editors to hire me to write stories about Las Vegas.

My enthusiasm lasted about 12 weeks — until I realized that just getting any job in this town pretty much requires an act of God, even if you speak multiple languages (Spanish and Russian), have solid work experience in more than one industry (media and social services) and are willing, at 43, to do most anything.

At first, I thought I could be a substitute teacher while I searched for employment and made the rounds. But it proved harder to get a substitute teaching license than I anticipated. Plus, it’s expensive.

By the time you pay for the license ($161), order college transcripts ($10), get fingerprinted ($27), take required tests ($80-$240), buy gas to travel to the test site in the middle of nowhere (at least $20), you’re almost out a month’s rent. Then the wait is at least a month for the fingerprints to come back so you can start working.

No wonder the Clark County School District has a shortage of subs.

Then, I thought cashiering at Whole Foods near my house in Green Valley would be a fun way to earn dough at a hip place with a killer salad bar. I’d save on gas too.

I applied online and was excited when a cheerful voice called to invite me in for an interview. But when I got there I realized they weren’t just interviewing me and a couple others. From what I could see there were nearly 15 candidates. All for one cashier job that was part-time with a schedule that changed from week to week, making it nearly impossible to work another part-time job.

I didn’t get the position. They gave it, they said, to someone with cashiering experience. Next I tried to hustle up an internship thinking it could turn into paid employment a couple months down the road. But everywhere I turned I got the same response: We only give internships to students officially enrolled in an academic program.

The advice that if you want to work somewhere the best thing to do is to offer free labor for a couple months no longer applies — unbeknownst to those of us who started our careers this way.

The kicker was when I responded to an ad for an assistant marketing person somewhere in Summerlin.

I made the long drive from Henderson only to find their ad hadn’t told the whole truth. What they were really looking for was someone to stand inside a Home Depot and convince shoppers to buy a certain brand of windows. This is what they called direct marketing.

In time, the interviewer told me cheerily, I could become a manager of my own crew who would do the standing and selling.

Not that there’s anything wrong with this or any other kind of work. Work is work as far as I’m concerned. But I’m not good at things I don’t care about and I couldn’t care less about windows or convincing people to buy them.

I wished they had been more honest in their ad and saved me a tank of gas and an entire morning.

Finally, a friend of a friend suggested I try the casinos on the Strip.

“They need people with languages,” he said. “You can be a VIP host, and take care of the high rollers who come from abroad.”

He was a foreigner himself and had done this kind of work.

“It’s easy, “ he added. “You’d be good at it. You know how to talk to people. You’ve traveled. You’re sophisticated. “

I spent a couple hours filling out a lengthy online application for the Bellagio, a popular place for wealthy Russian tourists and where, I figured, I could use my knowledge of Russian.

But then the final window popped up asking me how much experience I had in the hospitality industry. I was honest and answered zero, figuring they would find out anyway.

I received an electronic message a few seconds later: “You do not meet the minimum qualifications for the position.”

Apparently knowing foreign languages or how to relate to international visitors was not the most important part of the job. Having hotel experience was.

I began to despair.

Listening to a radio report on KNPR’s “State of Nevada” about a former middle-class man who lives in his van and showers at the Las Vegas Athletic Club for $22 a month didn’t help my mood. At least he had a van, I thought. There’s no way I could live in my car.

My East Coast editors wonder what I am doing in a city with 14 percent unemployment and few openings in the publishing and public relations world, where I planned to be before the media world, and the economy, went to hell.

I’m not sure myself — especially since the glamorous circus performers I came here to write about are also suffering these days. And they’re not as eager to talk about their lives as I had assumed.

But I know that heading to the East Coast with no job is not a good idea. It’s more expensive and the job prospects are also limited.

So I’m looking for full-time work here. Hopefully, something will come through that utilizes Spanish. I enjoy working with people from different backgrounds.

My mother used to say that being bilingual would someday get me a job.

I hope she’s right.