Why Bother With The Degree?

“So, as you can see from my resume, I’ve just completed my degree in Accounting and Finance. I worked part-time alongside it for three years, kept my position at work throughout, and was even a student ambassador during my third year-”

Mr Johnson sneezed loudly, and I watched as he fumbled around in his blazer pocket for a tissue. It appeared to have already been used.

Clearing my throat, I continued. “So I have also been involved in some freelance work that has been largely successful, and it’s helped me gain a lot of experience in using several of these-”

He sneezed again, and glared at me as if it was my fault. I frowned at him and started to continue, but he held up his non-tissue-holding hand to pause me. I leaned back in my chair and waited for him to finish emptying his nose, glancing around the messy back office I’d found myself sat in. From the layer of dust coating the windowsil beside me, it was no wonder the man couldn’t stop sneezing. I shuddered involuntarily, a cold draft wafting in through the cracked window.

Mr Johnson finally tossed the damp tissue towards the overflowing trash can under the desk. It rolled over the bin and onto the carpet, inches from touching my clean shoes. I shuffled in my seat to move further away from the germs, turning my foot sideways to stop it from touching.

He wiped his hand down the front of his faded sweater and leaned down to the resume laying limply on his desk. I realised he’d placed his coffee mug on the corner, and it left a brown ring over the ‘About Me’ section. He looked up at me over his glasses, raising his eyebrows, and then just as quickly turned back to the paper.

I checked my watch again, trying to be subtle. Not subtle enough.

“Do you have somewhere more important to be, Miss Davis?” His dark eyes were on me again, and I shuffled uncomfortably on the torn seat cushion under his scrutiny.

Shaking my head, I answered as confidently as I could. “No, sir, not at all.” My hands all of a sudden felt clammy, and I gently brushed my palms down the side of my smart trousers to dry them off.

He let out a short hrmmph at my response, placed down the paper, and twiddled his thumbs at me.

“Well, you certainly have the education background we’re looking for - I’d rather say you’re over qualified for this position.” His words sounded encouraging, however his tone was anything but. I waited for him to continue. He didn’t.

“Oh, wonderful. I don’t think anyone could possibly be overqualified for a job, I’d just be happy with-”

He stopped me, again with his hand raised. I closed my mouth and clenched my jaw, putting a small smile on my lips instead.

“I’m sorry, Miss Davis, but I just don’t think you’re the right fit for us.”

And there it was. The response I was waiting for, yet hoping not to hear again.

‘Over qualified.’ Nonsense.

“Sir, I’d just like to point out to you that I have-”

He stood quickly in his chair, almost knocking it backwards. Thrusting the now stained resume in my direction, he gestured me towards the door.

Taking a deep breath, I gathered my things and stood. “Thank you for your time.” I didn’t bother waiting for a response. The resume went into the trash can, falling out and landing right beside the tissue.

The door handle was cool against my hand, and I pulled the door open as hard as I could. Storming down the stairs, I gave one look over the other three candidates waiting for their turn to interview, and headed for the exit.

Mum was sitting in the car outside, eating a burger from the restaurant next door and scrolling through Facebook as usual. She smiled and unlocked the door when she saw me approach, but changed her tune as I slammed the door shut.

“No?”

“No. ‘Over qualified’ this time.”

She pulled a face and reached behind her seat, pulling forward two Starbucks drinks. “They might have gone a bit cold now, but I figured you’d need a treat either way.”

We sipped our lattes in silence.

“Where next?” She looked at the handwritten list of jobs I’d applied to in the area. Anything remotely related to the degree I spent the last three years and thousands of dollars on.

“Honestly, I think I’d have better luck at a McDonalds than any of those places. At least I’ve got the experience behind me for it.”