My grand plan to infiltrate into 30 Rockefeller Plaza: Late Night with Conan O'Brien

Now this story isn’t nearly as good as some of the others, but like the others, it is all true, and therefore deserves a place on the mantel of weird things to do to get a job.
After I found out about getting tickets for the comedy central shows, I started looking up tickets for other shows as well. I found that for tickets to Late Night with Conan O'Brien, all you had to do was call a hotline. I assumed it would be an automated service, so of course, I called it. Moments later, I was surprised to find myself chatting with the guy on the other end about Conan and Jimmy Fallon, and all the drama going on with that. For my own amusement, I was talking about both Conan and Jimmy on a first name basis, and the guy was full of helpful information.
After I hung up, I quickly launched my plan. I would wait a few days, and then call back- but this time, with different intentions.

The second time when I called, I apologized and said that I was just accidentally transferred there, and I was in the middle of leaving a message for Conan’s booking people. To my shock, he transferred me. More lies and more lies spilled out of my mouth, ‘was just talking to Suzy in HR’ ‘got disconnected from Tim in the booking office’ ‘was trying to leave a message about next weeks bit with Starbucks with the Executive Assistant’ until finally, I left a voicemail on as close as I could get to Conan’s personal machine.

Now, if one got the chance to leave a message for Conan, what would you say? Mine went something like this:

Hi, my name is _____ ______, great show last night (insert specific reference here). I am graduating from college this year and I am looking for a job on your show. I have mailed you my resume and emailed you all of my information. I am just letting you know to look out for me, and to let you know exactly how to reach me. (I left him my cell number and email address.) Thank you for your time and I look forward to being in touch.

At least, I'm pretty sure that is how it went. It is always hard to remember exactly what one says to an answering machine. It all goes by so fast.

Throw 'em A Bone, Sometimes Persistance Pays Off. STORYTIME!

It's a Thursday morning, it's hot, I am babysitting for some neighbors and trying to get out of being 'all-time-pitcher' for a two on two game of front yard baseball. In the back poacket of my jeans, the 30Rock Theme Song begins to play. Bam bam, ba badada bam bam, ba badada dum... "Hello?" I answer. It's a number I don't recognize. "Hi, my name is J_____ R__ from The Late Show with David Letterman."
Sharp intake of breath. Devil stares towards the kids that let them know they better shut up or there will not be any more baseball for the rest of their lives.
She starts: "Now, I don't know how I got your resume..." (I do, I sent it in the mail to The Late Show with David Letterman addressed to To Whom It May Concern) "...but I was wondering if you would be interested in interviewing for our Page position." (Hell, it's not NBC but I'll take what I can get.) "Are you going to be in the New York area on Monday?" Lucky for both of us, I was. We set up an interview for 12 noon.

You see that readers? All of that ridiculous stalking and mailing kind of paid off.
Stay tuned for what happened next.

The Email Screen (NBC Page Program Part II)

Enough with waiting. In real life, I actually waited about 3 months between NBC Page Program and NBC Page Program Part II, but you people in the blog world don’t seem to have time to wait that long.
So instead, watch this.

Now I’ll try to be short, as your attention span is the only thing I’m trying to get right now. My email screen was scheduled, then it had to be rescheduled.

Skip ahead another month. (Warning: This is the same clip you just watched.)

Finally it was set. I was home for winter break. I had my dad at his laptop. Me on one home computer. My mother on the other home computer. My good friend had dropped off HoCho and a muffin. I don’t drink coffee. I was prepared.

The email screen is a list of question sent to you in a document attached to an email, that you have exactly one hour to open, complete, and send back to a specified address.

At exactly 9:30am (the appointed time) I started refreshing my email. Nothing. At 9:35am I started to freak out. I had a sudden idea to check my school email, which I had not used once to communicate with NBC, but was also listed on my resume. Sure enough, the email screen was there. Not only was it there, it was sent at 9am, with the appointed send back by time as 10am. By now it was 9:38. That was only 22 minutes to complete the ‘exam’. After 30 more seconds of freak out, I got to work. My parents researching everything I shouted at them, and me- typing furiously. Similar to the way I am typing now, encouraged by the sheer memory of it.
22 minutes later I sent in my barely half completed email screen. By this point I had already resigned myself to a life of burger flipping. (Not that there is anything wrong with that! :) ) No Brooks Brothers NBC Page jacket for me. I then thought to email the woman who I had been corresponding with at NBC about scheduling my Email Screen. I double checked to make sure it was her mistake first, of course.
I wrote her a very polite but discouraged email, explaining the events of the morning. I then gave myself a break, and went to catch up on that weeks episode of The Office and 30 Rock. As the name Lorne Michaels appeared on the screen, the office theme song ringing loudly from my phone caused me to answer to an HR rep from NBC. She apologized profusely about the mis-communication and asked if I were available to take Email Screen at a later point that day. We then arranged for the screen to happen from 1pm-2pm that afternoon. On a hunch, I asked if the screen would be the same questions as earlier that morning. Her response? “Yes, but don’t worry, well send you a new email.”
Needless to say, I raced back to the computer and worked on those questions for the next three hours, and then throughout the 1 hour of the actual screen time.
So even if my answers weren't the best answers, they were certainly the longest, most researched, best edited, and well written.

What can I say though? The next month I got an email. They didn’t pick me. Not for the next step, not for nothing.
I mean obviously damnit. Or why would I be writing this damn blog?
You shoulda figured that out and not even bothered reading this post.
Dumbass.

Too soon to insult my readers?

The NBC Page Program

In November 2008, I suddenly realized that Kenneth the Page, on NBC’s 30 Rock, was not a completely fictional character. While someone over the age of 19 who still believes in a witch who comes after you when you don’t eat your vegetables probably doesn’t exist anywhere, the Page position at NBC is just as coveted as Kenneth’s NBC Page jacket in the game of poker with Jack Donaghy. With over seven THOUSAND applicants for a mere 60 spots, the chances of getting into the NBC Page Program are about as likely as your boob falling out of your top while on TV in the middle of the Superbowl. So about one. But actually, the stats prove that it is less likely to be chosen to wear a dorky suit, give tours of a glorified office building, and get the chance to usher people into their seats for a show, than to be a qualified candidate getting into Harvard Medical School. What does one learn from that statistic? Be a doctor; because your dreams of getting coffee for a GE executive are never gonna happen. Still though, one cant crush a dreamer with numbers, and I decided to become Kenneth the Page. Only a shorter, wiser, more awesome one.
My first step to becoming the next best friend to idol Tina Fey, was to find the job description and application for the NBC Page Program on the World Wide Web. It wasn’t too hard. After I read the three paragraphs explaining the program and realizing that all of my prayers had just been answered, I left the tabs open on my laptop for two weeks. It was already a moment of great accomplishment- finding something that I actually wanted to apply for, a goal for something to look forward to in my life after college.
I then discovered that my roommate’s friend’s sister had once been an NBC Page. Swish right?
I emailed the distant connection and soon set up a phone call. At the designated time, I called her, and then proceeded to have a glorious hour and a half conversation with the person who I was certain was my foot in the door. She helped me with my cover letter, passed my name around to some hiring people, and convinced me that if she could do it, anyone can.

Before I continue, I would like to take a quick moment to explain what the process entails for becoming an NBC Page.
First: you submit your resume, cover letter, and basic information online, basically requesting to be considered and applicant.
Second: they either acknowledge that you applied and inform you that they will eventually contact you regarding the next step, or you just never hear from them again.
Third: if allowed to continue, you are given a time to complete the Email Screen, a fancy way of wording: online questionnaire, within an hours time.
Fourth: if you pass ‘the screen’ you are invited up for an interview. You then meet with a few different members of the NBC team who do their best to make you wet yourself
Fifth: if you have survived the interviews and you have brought a change of clothes, you ate submitted into the well of death, that is- the group interview. There, they force you to compete with the other applicants while pretending to work as a team.
And if you do all of that correctly, and Jerry Seinfeld owes your father a huge favor, the might let you work at the lowliest position NBC has to offer.

So after hanging up on a high note that the first job I was looking into was almost guaranteed to be perfect for me, I submitted my information to the Page Program.
Then it was waiting time.