Craig's List Scammer

Last week during one of my Craig's List job scans, I came across a posting for an "Office Manager for a Restaurant/Lounge."

Out of boredom, I opened up the ad and further read the very vague details about the position. The name of the restaurant was not given and there was no address or direct contact email. None of these good signs.

However, in an act of desperation I sent in my resume. Oh what the hell, I never hear back from 95% of things on Craig's List.

To my surprise the next night I received an email from someone named Sophie via her Gmail account. Sophie told me to come by a specific Chelsea address on Saturday May 9, between 12 - 4pm. I still had no clue as to which restaurant this was for. Whatever, I read the email on my BlackBerry and got back to watching The Office.

When Saturday rolled around, I had no plans for the day and was still trying to decide if I should go to this 8th Ave address and see what the job was. I didn't really even want the position, it was now pure curiosity that motivated me to walk across town. Who is this Sophie, and why is she being so mysterious?

My friend Sarah will vouch for me that I didn't actually want this job; she walked part way over with me on Saturday and the entire time we talked about skipping our Saturday plans and going for brunch. I didn't dress up; I wore a black romper - clearly not interview attire. I figured it would make good material for the blog, which sometimes I think is more important than finding a job.

I finally get to 25th and 8th and I'm seeing no signs of an office. As I looked for the #290, I thought maybe it was actually at the restaurant. Ok, cool. Maybe it would be fun to work for a hip Chelsea restaurant. My hopes and curiosity perked up. But only for a second.

I found my number, an old door to an apartment smashed between a deli and a gross Chinese restaurant. There was no signs, no people; just a dusty door leading to a dark hallway. I should have turned around right then, but the little white buzzer was calling my name. There goes my curiosity again.

Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring Ring. Nothing. Just me and the door.

I waited around to see if people came in and out, but there was no sign of life to #290. Then as I went to push the buzzer again, I came to my senses and remembered a recent Craig's List killer. And here I am, standing on 8th Ave on a Saturday ringing a buzzer to go into a seedy apartment to see someone named Sophie. Right, Sophie. I'm sure Sophie is really Chuck with a roll of duct tape and a machete.

I got away from there as fast as could. Clearly, I was not thinking and my curiosity took over my best judgement for a second there. You know what the say about curiosity.

So to all my unemployed friends, please be careful to the interviews that you accept. Do not let desperation or curiosity get the best of you. No job is worth dying for.