His name is Maurizo Grazzi, and I suppose I owe him a sincere apology. My bad, good sir. It’s the end of a month, and as regular readers of these musings pro’ly know by now, I tend to get a bit surlier than usual ’round these times. Something about when one’s net worth drops to two figures–and in some recent months, with a minus sign in front of it–can make someone rather short-tempered and impatient. I know that’s true in my case, and now after more than five years of this lather-rinse-repeat process it’s become all the more exaggerated.
I had a brief encounter with Mr. Grazzi via LinkedIn when he slipped into my DMs after we apparently both digested what are one of the regular posts from a mysterious person who goes only by Alex P. You can click on his contact info to reveal his last name (Pyatkovsky), but that’s immaterial to this narrative. It’s not like Alex P. seems to be paying attention to everyone who engages with him. When one has more than 16,000 followers, I suppose it’s impossible to keep up. I have a fraction of his total and I’d be lying if I offered that I’ve engaged with more than five percent of them. But I do follow up with every single person who actually goes to the trouble of being courteous enough to reply to a personal outreach, which after more than five years of an active search for a better quality job I’d estimate is a number well into four figures.
And yet, somehow, not a single one of those interactions has resulted in even a legitimate one-on-one interview, let alone the better quality job I so desperately desire and, frankly, need. Sure, there’s been plenty of legitimate excuses. That darn pandemic sure was a detractor, and the economy in the media industry hasn’t been all that robust. And since January, there’s that market uncertainty and all those DOGE layoffs that have delayed or even tabled companies’ pursuit of talent to fill open positions. At least that’s what I read elsewhere, since LinkedIn almost never updates the status of posted positions that I seem to have applied for.
Mr. Pyatkovsky’s CV shows him to currently be a vice president of operations for a major national car care company just outside of Chicago, a position he’s held for nearly two years after a two-year stint for an emerging competitor. Before that, a seven and one-half year run as a regional manager for yet another national company that I’m a fan of if for no other reason that they without fail will help me inflate my tires when I inevitably spring a slow leak–such skills are at least beyond my learning capacity. Without a single listed gap as a consultant or, heaven forbid, unemployment.
So I’m not harboring any thoughts of somehow finding my way into his industry–although I suspect there is some corporate office somewhere where marketing, analytics and custom insights are among the more key positions. I know my skills and experience are applicable to those jobs, but there don’t see to be any such open positions at Mr. Pyatkovsky’s current company, or even his previous national employer. Besides, it sure appears Alex P. is hell bent on finding his way to a new challenge, at least based on his numerous lengthy posts and counsel of people whose own recent job history is nowhere near as stable as his.
He writes eloquent and lengthy tales of how he has become a sort of father confessor and expert on how to better navigate the platform, ever bringing in his own personal experiences as a source of both entertainment and inspiration. Given that’s how Copilot would offer that’s essentially my style, I’m not going to call him out on that. But I will call him out on his actual worth as a LinkedIn contact.
Maybe I’m naive, or I’ve listened to the sage advice of well-meaning actual friends of mine, but I was under the impression that the purpose of LinkedIn is to find one’s next job, most definitely when you’re not employed and arguably when you’re looking to better yourself. Based on Mr. Pyatkovsky’s history, it sure seems like he’s at worst been in a state of wanderlust for at least the last decade. I can’t quite tell if his career choice was what he set out to be. But based upon his inability to reply to my dozen DMs asking him to pass along my resume to any of his massive number of followers who might be in a position to offer a personal connection to someone empowered to actually hire for an actual open position, I have no choice but to assume his goal seems to be an influencer doing it for the clicks.
He’s not alone among the more frequent posters on social media. On almost every platform I subscribe to–and by last count it’s about a dozen–there’s someone who appears determined to be the most prolific and therefore most recommended. I constantly read about success stories of folks with similar strategies who have built brands and businesses off of such popularity. They get invited to virtual and sometimes even IRL conferences to share their success stories with those desperate enough to drop whatever spare shekels they may have access to in the hopes of emulating them. I suspect somewhere out there there might be a few happy customers. Maybe it’s a generational thing. I know my experience and I know how much I’ve spent over the last five years and change in similar pursuit. I even paid my way into conferences with folks getting rich on crypto and consulting, if for no other reason than they would occasionally provide me fodder for these musings. I even met a few people and got a few business cards.
But literally none of them ever followed up, even with recommendations to others who might be a better position to help me toward my singular goal. To get a better paying job more like the ones I held for the previous four decades and resume a semblance of the life that was left behind forever when a combination of illness, ageism and self-respect, all timed to the onset of the pandemic, forced me to get more aware and active in today’s version of pounding the pavement.
Which brings me to Mr. Grazzi. His profile describes him as follows:
AI & SaaS Profit Coach | Helping Founders Transform Technology into Profit | Book a Free Strategy Session Today!
Mr. Grazzi was one of the many who posted a personal reply and an advertising of his services on Mr. Pyatovsky’s timeline. Since the last part of his call to action included the one word I can best relate to at this point of the moment–free–I reached out directly. He’s based in the United Kingdom, so I didn’t fully expect him to be able to connect me with something in my area. But he has more than 8000 followers and sounded fairly connected. And when I questioned him publicly about his ability to help despite his location he confidently responded:
I am helping many without being local Sir.
When you throw a starving person a bone, you should expect followup. So I DMed him with this specific question so as not to waste his valuable time:
How? Can you provide me with an actual Personal connection to an actual person empowered to hire someone who will pay me enough to avoid homelessness? I need money now. Period. Literally nothing else matters. When I say I’m desperate I’m not exaggerating. Five years of heartbreak and poverty. I’m done waiting and so are my creditors.
His terse reply:
You are right. In that case I can’t help.
Mr. Grazzi apparently offers free counsel on optimizing resumes so as to generate more responses from HR bots who scrutinize resumes and, based on conversations I’ve had with those who actually work in those areas, will immediately move to junk any that include responses that their search process filters to eliminate what they see as deal-breakers. More and more, such filtering processes are stemming from AI. And, as I’ve further learned, virtually all autoresponses that do get sent are generated in a similar fashion.
I suppose there’s a value to gaming a system where humans are increasingly a minority presence. I’m apparently able to generate responses on other platforms from “recruiters” offering immediate hires to work a few hours a week from home to amplify messaging similar to the sort that Mr. Grazzi’s original reply contained. They’re the ones that eventually urge you to pivot to Telegram or What’s App, where inevitably a “small service charge” is noted for the continuation of the “job application” based on “instructions” from the “supervisor” that is observing the process.
Those very same HR professionals collectively assured me that such discourse is a pure and simple scam to obtain your contact information. And based upon how many times I’ve been sent the very same picture of an attractive young Asian woman who somehow “came across my number” in their contact lists, often from a supposed female who uses language like “I’m Anna. How shall I address you by name?”, I’ve been able to connect the dots that there’s an entire community of fake accounts that someone, somewhere, maybe in India or Myanmar, is supervising in the hopes that someone will be more of a schmuck than I’ve been and actually provide info.
On a pure communication platform, it goes with the territory. I’m pious and naive enough to have thought LinkedIn, given its primary purpose, was an exception. How foolish I was to have held such high expectations.
But I do admit I was wrong to come off as demanding as I did to someone like Mr. Grazzi, who at least in his words appears sincere and genuine. He was an unfortunate victim of bad timing as I had just gotten the first of many “low account balance” e-mails from my bank, a pattern that pretty much defines the end of any given month for me over the past five years. And counting.
I still stand by the veracity of what I conveyed to him. My creditors are very, very real and their impatience is far greater than mine. But that should not excuse my aggressive behavior. And I’m actually grounded enough, at least this morning, to own that.
So, again, my apologies, Mr. Grazzi. I hope to cross paths with you some day somewhere. And you too, Mr. Pyatovsky. You seem like a decent hang, and I do have enough Chicagolanders in my life to at least appreciate the Cubs and Old Style. Wouldn’t mind sharing one or both with you in the future.
That is, of course, if you ever plan on even sending me an autoreply before that.
Until next time…