This morning, I was lucky enough to get into the Diversity Career Fair at the Marriott Marquis in Times Square. It was sponsored by the New York Times, and the newspaper itself had a booth. You might ask, what differentiates the “Diversity Career Fair” from every other career fair? Well, I can tell you from first-hand experience that the Diversity Career Fair was sponsored by a magazine called “Diversity,” which features articles involving diversity in the workplace. Also, the companies with booths and representatives at the Diversity Career Fair were from a wide variety of employment sectors, including pharmaceuticals and education. Oh, wait! Any career fair features that! In reality, the only reason the Diversity Career Fair was special was because it was sponsored by Diversity magazine. That’s all.

But the Fair did have a long line of people waiting to get in. I got to the Marriott Marquis around 10:30—a half-hour after the fair started—and rode the escalator up to the 7th floor banquet hall. By then it was 10:45 or so, and there was already a line snaking around the 7th floor lobby. The Marriott Marquis is a huge hotel, with an elaborate lobby on each floor that looks about the size of cruise ship deck. The line of people waiting to get into the banquet hall was so huge, it snaked all around the rim, then up through the guts, folding in on itself many times. If any of you unemployed New Yorkers out there think you’re the only ones who can’t find a job, please attend one of these fairs. You will quickly realize that you are not alone.

So I ended up all the way at the back of the line, which was only twenty or so feet from the front of the line, given the strange way that the serpentine beast lounged languidly about the lobby. I was resigned to spending the next six or seven hours waiting patiently to get into the career fair. But one of the hotel security people walked over and said, “We have to clear this area you’re standing in, so please go stand somewhere else.”

Of course, there wasn’t any other place where we could stand. Eventually, the attendant at the door to the lounge went ahead and let us all in. We were at the back of the line, and we ended up getting into the career fair before the people at the front of the line. I’m sure that the people who had been waiting for much longer than us would have been understandably miffed, had they known. But since they hadn’t seen us at the back, due to a well-placed elevator column, they had no idea that their efforts to get to the Marquis earlier had effectively gotten them punished. So it is, sometimes.

I spent the next hour going around to the various booths, getting business cards and web site info. As it turns out, a career fair whose name promises diversity still only features eight booths. That didn’t seem very diverse. However, there was a seminar on schmoozing that I got to sit in on. I forgot the speaker’s name, but I learned from his motivational speech that I must learn to be less introverted, or I will surely be doomed. I also found out that NYU’s Alumni Association apparently sucks, since it was founded by former students who are now in their 60’s, and most graduates in the intervening years have shunned it altogether. Finally, seminar man revealed both to myself and the audience a heretofore unknown dichotomy. To quote him,

"Employment is a vast meat market right now. You see all those booths next door and you think, 'Here's a bunch of opportunities to network and find a job.' Hah! Good luck! You know what percentage of job hunters land a job through a meat market like the one next door? Roughly 7 PERCENT! That's right! It's a waste of time!"

On the way out of the lounge, I picked up some complimentary water. Too bad there wasn't a .38 and a bullet I could blast through my skull! However, there were sample copies of “Diversity” magazine, which as far as I can tell, exists mainly to criticize companies who don’t feature enough pictures of ethnic minorities on their web pages.

By 1 p.m., I was already on my way home. I’m hopeful that seminar man is understating the percentage of meat market success stories, and that the New York Times really has some job openings I can take advantage of, which the chick at the NY Times booth told me of. But in reality, my time might be better spent looking for nice highway underpasses where I can sleep during my inevitable homelessness.

It was drizzling in Times Square as I made my way out of the Marriott Marquis. And with a cold wind blowing. Remind me to find an underpass near a nice, warm heating grate.