As students settle into the new school year, companies’ representatives and graduate programs flock to UC Berkeley to recruit starry-eyed bright minds. It seems like people are excitedly talking about joining this start-up or that consulting group every day, eager about their imagined futures that definitely won’t change as time goes on and interests change.
But for one 80-year-old sophomore on campus, this time of year brings nothing but rejection. Oski, who will turn 81 at the end of the month, has never really had any luck with finding a job.
“He came up to our table, so I politely asked for his name,” said E. Ville, a recruiter from Pain & Company, a global management consulting firm. “But … he just stared at me. With those vacant, dead eyes and that creepy smile.”
Other company representatives also reported feeling uncomfortable around the supposedly beloved mascot. Mack Suckerburg, a recruiter for Beta, parent company of Fakebook, said Oski came to the Beta table, patted him on the head, awkwardly fist-bumped him, then skipped away with his hands behind his back.
With his bad record at career fair tables, Oski often heads over to the Career Center to try working on his resume and cover letters. However, advisors there claim he has almost no marketable skills.
“I took a look at his resume and I have to tell you, he’s got almost nothing on there,” said career counselor Badad Vice. “Under ‘Skills,’ he wrote he knows how to pet dogs and how to pose for pictures. The only REAL marketable item he has on here is that he can chop trees.”
His cover letters weren’t much better, Vice noted. For instance, a letter Oski had sent to a wildlife conservation program only had the words “GO BEARS.”
The program stated that applicants needed to have already worked with wildlife for a minimum of 100 years, have a doctorate in zoology, a letter of recommendation from a local deity and 20 ounces of pixie dust, requirements which Oski did not have.
“Step up your game, Oski,” Vice said. “Seriously, who DOESN’T have a letter of recommendation from at least a local deity these days?”
Despite the setbacks that Oski has faced throughout his 80 years on campus, this year might be the time things finally turn around for our lovable bear.
When The Daily Californian reached out to Oski for comment on his misfortunes, we received a manilla envelope containing an offer letter Oski had received from a lumberjack company in Palo Alto.
“We are pleased to offer you a position in our organization,” the letter stated. “Your years of experience and sheer talent for chopping trees, coupled with the fact that you literally mailed us your axe, make you the perfect candidate. Congratulations.”