What do you think?
Rate this book
Job Hopper: The Checkered Career of a Down-Market Dilettante
If it's true that the average worker will hold an average of seven jobs over the course of a lifetime, Ayun Halliday is anything but average. In her brief thirty-something years, Halliday has managed to rack up an impressive array of short lived stints in the paid job market, including life guard, library attendant, costume designer, actress, waitress, artist's model, professional temp, rental stylist, substitute teacher, party counselor, massage therapist, costumed mascot, and mime, to name a few. In this uproarious collection of essays, Halliday displays a work ethic all employers can admire: wearing a leg brace to work after calling in "sick," quitting the same day she starts by claiming her step-brother had been in a bike accident, and faking "vocal nodes" to avoid telemarketing calls. Along the way, she befriends colleagues and bosses who ignore her falling asleep, stealing food and clothing, and feigning skills she does not possess, and gains the respect of her customers for sheer honesty, which includes detailing her feminine hygiene problems and setting male clients straight on her brand of massage: "I'm sorry, I cannot facilitate a sexual release for you!"
256 pages, Paperback
First published February 15, 2005
1 person is currently reading
195 people want to read
About the author
Ayun Halliday
15 books114 followersAyun Halliday is the Chief Primatologist of the long running, award-winning East Village Inky zine and author of the self-mocking autobiographies No Touch Monkey! And Other Travel Lessons Learned Too Late, The Big Rumpus Dirty Sugar Cookies: Culinary Observations, Questionable Taste, and Job Hopper. She collaborated with illustrators Dan Santat on the picture book Always Lots of Heinies at the Zoo, and Paul Hoppe on Peanut, a graphic novel for young adults. Luddite vagabonds may remember her as the author of the analog guidebook, The Zinester's Guide to NYC. She is a regular contributor to Open Culture, and freelances both articles and illustrations to a variety of other publications.
Ayun's latest books are Creative, Not Famous: The Small Potato Manifesto and its interactive companion Creative, Not Famous Activity Book: An Interactive Idea Generator for Small Potatoes & Others Who Want to Get Their Ayuss in Gear
She lives in East Harlem with the playwright Greg Kotis.
Ayun's latest books are Creative, Not Famous: The Small Potato Manifesto and its interactive companion Creative, Not Famous Activity Book: An Interactive Idea Generator for Small Potatoes & Others Who Want to Get Their Ayuss in Gear
She lives in East Harlem with the playwright Greg Kotis.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 28 of 28 reviews
September 23, 2021
oh, i do so love ayun halliday!!
this is my third book of hers (unless you count always lots of heinies at the zoo which is just a children's book, but is about a subject near to my heart:animal buttocks).
i kind of want her to be my best friend. because she is funny the way a best friend should be, not intimidatingly funny the way, say, wanda sykes is. she is human-level funny; she is the kind of funny one can wrap one's head around. which is to say, some of the essays fall short, but you still want to try out new restaurants with her. no one can be "on" all the time, not even an imaginary best friend.
this book covers her string of shitty jobs. the career trajectory of an acting major who still has to pay the rent somehow: department store sesame street character actor, waitress, nude model, hippie-store clerk, telemarketer... the poor girl. none of these jobs were very fulfilling, nor was she very good at any of them. she frequently walked away from a job without looking back to the burning heap of rubble left in her wake with varying degrees of shame.
this may be my favorite, and most relatable passage, from a temp job:
hoo, boy, ms halliday- i am right there with you. my office job history was abysmal. co-worker small talk made me shudder, photocopying was a nightmare because of my aversion to hot paper, i sure didn't know how to handle spreadsheets or anything more complicated than an email, i hated talking to people on the phone - i was terrible. i fell asleep in meetings and was gently scolded for my tendency to wear underwear as outerwear. every thursday i would go out dancing after work, stay out late enough to go home, shower, and then head back into work. i was drunk when i was fired (what - it was good friday - no one else in the country had to work - every work related call i made that day went unanswered, and all the office kids went out for a long greek lunch - don't judge me!!)
this is why i think ayun halliday and i should hang out. but i would prefer to hang out with the ayun halliday who wrote dirty sugar cookies because that one is my favorite and it is all about food. she could come on one of mine and greg's sunday adventures!
she is a goodreads.com author! and she lives here in new york!
TIME FOR BEST FRIENDS, PLEASE!
and as her new best friend, i would definitely tell her this cover is really awful.
come to my blog!
this is my third book of hers (unless you count always lots of heinies at the zoo which is just a children's book, but is about a subject near to my heart:animal buttocks).
i kind of want her to be my best friend. because she is funny the way a best friend should be, not intimidatingly funny the way, say, wanda sykes is. she is human-level funny; she is the kind of funny one can wrap one's head around. which is to say, some of the essays fall short, but you still want to try out new restaurants with her. no one can be "on" all the time, not even an imaginary best friend.
this book covers her string of shitty jobs. the career trajectory of an acting major who still has to pay the rent somehow: department store sesame street character actor, waitress, nude model, hippie-store clerk, telemarketer... the poor girl. none of these jobs were very fulfilling, nor was she very good at any of them. she frequently walked away from a job without looking back to the burning heap of rubble left in her wake with varying degrees of shame.
this may be my favorite, and most relatable passage, from a temp job:
"You know how to do tables in database, right?" the boss lady asked, as she handed me a manila folder full of sales reports that I'd been brought in to squish together or spin into gold or something or other before sunrise."Yes," I lied, after a moment's hesitation. Like the previous postings' chips, she and I were close enough in age to be considered peers. I didn't want her to think me incapable, though in retrospect, it seemed a battle lost before it could begin. Left to my own devices, I could barely figure out which key would open up the new document I was supposedly creating. As soon as the boss lady returned to her office, I placed the first of many panicked sotto voce phone calls to Rumpelstiltskin, otherwise known as my friend from acting class. It took me all day, but by skipping lunch and eschewing the table commands my friend had done her best to tutor me in in favor of the tab key, I managed to scrape the assignment together. By the time I finally hit "print," I was little more than a quivering bundle of exposed nerves, convinced that computers had been invented to make me feel bad about myself. Why was I so goddamned warped? Why couldn't I whip out spreadsheets and flow charts and enjoy Garfield's excesses like the rest of the workforce? How come I hated T.G.I. Friday's and situation comedies? My interest in theater and thrift stores rendered me unfit to function in this society. I was like some sort of hemophiliac royal whiling my days away in an ivory tower, translating poetry into archaic languages, soon to be slaughtered in the peasant uprising. Also, I'd bagged out on the Introduction to Computers course I'd enrolled in in college when a spot unexpectedly opened in Performative Interpretation of African Literature.
hoo, boy, ms halliday- i am right there with you. my office job history was abysmal. co-worker small talk made me shudder, photocopying was a nightmare because of my aversion to hot paper, i sure didn't know how to handle spreadsheets or anything more complicated than an email, i hated talking to people on the phone - i was terrible. i fell asleep in meetings and was gently scolded for my tendency to wear underwear as outerwear. every thursday i would go out dancing after work, stay out late enough to go home, shower, and then head back into work. i was drunk when i was fired (what - it was good friday - no one else in the country had to work - every work related call i made that day went unanswered, and all the office kids went out for a long greek lunch - don't judge me!!)
this is why i think ayun halliday and i should hang out. but i would prefer to hang out with the ayun halliday who wrote dirty sugar cookies because that one is my favorite and it is all about food. she could come on one of mine and greg's sunday adventures!
she is a goodreads.com author! and she lives here in new york!
TIME FOR BEST FRIENDS, PLEASE!
and as her new best friend, i would definitely tell her this cover is really awful.
come to my blog! 
April 9, 2013
Marvel as she reads Gabriel García Márquez while pretending to collate and/or distribute Urgent! documents!
Gasp in amazement as she pulls her newly-revised résumé off of the printer microseconds before the office manager picks up her own print job!
“A teacher once softened the grade she’d recorded on my report card with the comment, “I think Ayun’s interest in theatre will ultimately be of more use to her than seventh-grade science.” At thirteen, I couldn’t have agreed more, but as it turned out, intensive training in Greek tragedy led not to Broadway, but to a decade’s postgraduate work in the arts of taking down phone messages, currying Easter Bunny suits, and refilling Parmesan shakers. I sometimes wondered if a different major would have better prepared me for life as a gainfully-employed adult.”(p.199)
Job Hopper is like an exuberant how-to manual for workers and employees everywhere who are secretly plotting their own escapes from jobs that they no longer want. The opening piece in this collection of essays, about working at a children’s museum in her Midwestern hometown, reminded me of CivilWarLand in Bad Decline, by George Saunders. “The creepiest tableau was lit by a 20-watt cellophane campfire, realistically stirred by breezes from a hidden fan. I can’t tell you how many times I saw the plaster figure squatting near this artificial heat source actually move in the flickering light. It was subtle but sinister, an index finger flexing ever so slightly, the head rotating just the teeniest bit to the left.(p. 4) Ayun goes on to evade long-term commitments to (in no particular order): A costume shop, a head shop, multiple Italian restaurants, several interchangeable office spaces, an upscale “art” gallery, a “classy” nightclub, and the claustrophobic interior of a closeted, gay Sesame Street character costume, among others.
Particularly cringe-worthy for me were the author’s accounts of working as a substitute teacher in an elementary school and as a telemarketer for an underground-y theatre festival. I cheered, however, when she ran off several hundred flyers for her own performances as a temp on a couple of assignments and stole costumes for her own parties from the aforementioned, tyrannical costumer.
It’s not all fun and games, though. The author, who has studied deep philosophy at university, tackles big questions in the course of the book, like:
“You like it hobbit-style?”(p. 75)
and
“Who does a girl have to blow around here to get her pink slip?(p. 172)
I might hate Mondays, but I f’n love this book!
Gasp in amazement as she pulls her newly-revised résumé off of the printer microseconds before the office manager picks up her own print job!
“A teacher once softened the grade she’d recorded on my report card with the comment, “I think Ayun’s interest in theatre will ultimately be of more use to her than seventh-grade science.” At thirteen, I couldn’t have agreed more, but as it turned out, intensive training in Greek tragedy led not to Broadway, but to a decade’s postgraduate work in the arts of taking down phone messages, currying Easter Bunny suits, and refilling Parmesan shakers. I sometimes wondered if a different major would have better prepared me for life as a gainfully-employed adult.”(p.199)
Job Hopper is like an exuberant how-to manual for workers and employees everywhere who are secretly plotting their own escapes from jobs that they no longer want. The opening piece in this collection of essays, about working at a children’s museum in her Midwestern hometown, reminded me of CivilWarLand in Bad Decline, by George Saunders. “The creepiest tableau was lit by a 20-watt cellophane campfire, realistically stirred by breezes from a hidden fan. I can’t tell you how many times I saw the plaster figure squatting near this artificial heat source actually move in the flickering light. It was subtle but sinister, an index finger flexing ever so slightly, the head rotating just the teeniest bit to the left.(p. 4) Ayun goes on to evade long-term commitments to (in no particular order): A costume shop, a head shop, multiple Italian restaurants, several interchangeable office spaces, an upscale “art” gallery, a “classy” nightclub, and the claustrophobic interior of a closeted, gay Sesame Street character costume, among others.
Particularly cringe-worthy for me were the author’s accounts of working as a substitute teacher in an elementary school and as a telemarketer for an underground-y theatre festival. I cheered, however, when she ran off several hundred flyers for her own performances as a temp on a couple of assignments and stole costumes for her own parties from the aforementioned, tyrannical costumer.
It’s not all fun and games, though. The author, who has studied deep philosophy at university, tackles big questions in the course of the book, like:
“You like it hobbit-style?”(p. 75)
and
“Who does a girl have to blow around here to get her pink slip?(p. 172)
I might hate Mondays, but I f’n love this book!
December 8, 2008
apparently this is the poorest-selling of all of ayun's books, which i don't really understand. this one was my favorite! & i don't even think of myself as a person who goes especially wild for memoirs about people's weird &/or crummy jobs. while the big rumpus was a little saccharine sometimes, & dirty sugar cookies was peppered with unappealing recipes & tales of a seemingly posh childhood that colored the reading experience for me, & no touch monkey was riddled with straight up gleeful account of cultural appropriation, i really had no issues with this one at all. it was just funny. ayun had a lot of ridiculous jobs. she was a laundress for a costume shop, a tour guide at a museum in indianapolis, a masseuse, & more. pretty much all of her jobs are of the unskilled theatre major variety, which i can relate to, as all of my jobs were of the unskilled writing major variety (bookstore employee, pizza chef, data entry, community organizer, tutor, phone psychic, etc). i thought this book was hilarious, hence the high four-star rating.
December 21, 2008
Interesting collection of job-related stories.
June 12, 2007
In Ayun Halliday’s previous books, “The Big Rumpus” and “No Touch Monkey and Other Travel Lessons Learned Too Late,” the reader is instantly made familiar with her sharp and shocking wit and easy writerly way with a cleverly turned phrase. Being such a subjective thing, writing humor is not easy. What I find hilarious may simply leave you cold. So it requires something more than just an ability to present a “funny” situation, and leave ‘em laughing as you go.
What Ayun Halliday does with almost criminal ease is root the humor is circumstances that widen the impact and identification of the moment. Even when describing a situation which the reader might think could only have sprung from her imagination, Ayun brings the reader in by tying her experience to the people, places and things around her. She is able to give the reader a specificity that makes it clear that the stories she tells are not mere archetype, but revel in the tiniest of details; her description of memories brought back by the simple opening of a returned costume box explode off the page into consciousness; an eye-opening “ah-ha” moment. Her description of an unctuous art saleswoman proffering a toast is both a passing your drink through your nose moment of shocking humor and a writer’s litany of perfect details.
And her book is full of these, both particular to the author, and yet easily transferable to our individual experience. Along the way she catalogues the small and not-so-small cruelties available to the average wage-slave striver, rejoices in the little, almost always temporary and sometime Pyrrhic victories that job hoppers all over the world are all-too-familiar with, and finally, escapes with even some of her dignity and sanity intact. We are all the better for her sufferings.
What Ayun Halliday does with almost criminal ease is root the humor is circumstances that widen the impact and identification of the moment. Even when describing a situation which the reader might think could only have sprung from her imagination, Ayun brings the reader in by tying her experience to the people, places and things around her. She is able to give the reader a specificity that makes it clear that the stories she tells are not mere archetype, but revel in the tiniest of details; her description of memories brought back by the simple opening of a returned costume box explode off the page into consciousness; an eye-opening “ah-ha” moment. Her description of an unctuous art saleswoman proffering a toast is both a passing your drink through your nose moment of shocking humor and a writer’s litany of perfect details.
And her book is full of these, both particular to the author, and yet easily transferable to our individual experience. Along the way she catalogues the small and not-so-small cruelties available to the average wage-slave striver, rejoices in the little, almost always temporary and sometime Pyrrhic victories that job hoppers all over the world are all-too-familiar with, and finally, escapes with even some of her dignity and sanity intact. We are all the better for her sufferings.
December 16, 2011
I don't think this is the best writing that Ayun Halliday has ever done, but maybe that's just sour grapes because I haven't had a book of stories of my shit jobs published. (Of course, I haven't actually written a book of stories of my shit jobs. That might be a start.)
I'm giving it three stars for these gems:
"I was so rip-snortin' fired up to call myself a massage therapist that long before graduation, I got Clarissa to place a free classified ad in the newspaper for me, offering student-level bodywork at the bargain-basement price of twenty dollars an hour, a good forty bucks below the going rate. And I would venture to say that the thrifty pilgrims who climbed aboard the secondhand massage table I'd set up in my dining room got pretty much what they paid for. Everyone, that is, except for the eager fellow angling for a student-level hand job. Fortunately, the Chicago School of Massage Therapy, unlike the seriously deficient sex-education module that took place midway through my seventh-grade science class, equipped its students with a phrase for just this sort of occasion: 'I'm sorry, but I cannot facilitate a sexual release for you.' (I like to use it on my husband sometimes for fun.)"
(This one is near the end of a chapter about her job as a nude model for a figure drawing class, after she gets dizzy from her pose and falls down) "...not caring that my breasts dangled like udders or that my genitals were presenting themselves to the students with bovine frankness."
That second one made me laugh out loud. Bovine frankness...
I'm giving it three stars for these gems:
"I was so rip-snortin' fired up to call myself a massage therapist that long before graduation, I got Clarissa to place a free classified ad in the newspaper for me, offering student-level bodywork at the bargain-basement price of twenty dollars an hour, a good forty bucks below the going rate. And I would venture to say that the thrifty pilgrims who climbed aboard the secondhand massage table I'd set up in my dining room got pretty much what they paid for. Everyone, that is, except for the eager fellow angling for a student-level hand job. Fortunately, the Chicago School of Massage Therapy, unlike the seriously deficient sex-education module that took place midway through my seventh-grade science class, equipped its students with a phrase for just this sort of occasion: 'I'm sorry, but I cannot facilitate a sexual release for you.' (I like to use it on my husband sometimes for fun.)"
(This one is near the end of a chapter about her job as a nude model for a figure drawing class, after she gets dizzy from her pose and falls down) "...not caring that my breasts dangled like udders or that my genitals were presenting themselves to the students with bovine frankness."
That second one made me laugh out loud. Bovine frankness...
April 11, 2008
Ayun Halliday is one of my favorite writers. I've been a fan ever since reading her East Village Inky zine years ago, which she continues to publish. I've also gotten to see her read live, and she is one of the most lively readers I have ever seen. Anyway, this excellent collection of stories about her various jobs is charming, honest, eye-opening, touching (especially the story of her job at Dave's Italian Kitchen), and most importantly, hilarious. The picture of Ayun at the end of her introduction is a perfect represenation of how great this book is: It's nostalgic, a bit-crazed, and funny. My favorite story is the last one, about Ayun's experiences as a massage therapist. Very revealing about the nature of the job, about customers, and about one particualar boss... Quite a character. I highly recommend this book.
October 16, 2008
Decent reading for lunch breaks. I'm currently in a job I love, but having been in a number of crap jobs before, I could definitely relate to Ayun's misadventures. Plus, I was really interested in how a zinester made the move to book form. I did find myself laughing out loud at a number of parts, but one thing that really took me out of the book was the people of color in her essays. This was probably unintentional, but her portrayals of people of color were often stereotypical and racist. There aren't even a whole lot of people of color in her book, but they were huge standouts mostly because they were more caricatures than characters. It's not enough to keep me from reading another book by Halliday (I actually have The Big Rumpus! on my to-read list), but she does need some work in that area.
June 20, 2012
Things are tough all over and even jobs we thought were secure can be yanked from under us. So what if you were once CEOs? What’s wrong with working at McDonald’s until you get on your feet again? Trust me, the smell will wash out of your hair—eventually.
Ms. Halliday’s chronicles of her on-again, off-again temp jobs read like the hilarious stories you might hear from a really engaging first date. In her desperate desire to avoid anything like a real job in order to devote herself to her true calling—acting—Ms. Halliday wound her way through the digestive tract that is the world of the eternal slacker. Everything from counter girl in a slow retail shop to inept secretary to lackluster security guard and all sorts of other gigs in between make for funny reading and are vastly reassuring for those of us who are struggling in today’s job market to keep our heads about water.
Ms. Halliday’s chronicles of her on-again, off-again temp jobs read like the hilarious stories you might hear from a really engaging first date. In her desperate desire to avoid anything like a real job in order to devote herself to her true calling—acting—Ms. Halliday wound her way through the digestive tract that is the world of the eternal slacker. Everything from counter girl in a slow retail shop to inept secretary to lackluster security guard and all sorts of other gigs in between make for funny reading and are vastly reassuring for those of us who are struggling in today’s job market to keep our heads about water.
December 3, 2014
It took me over half the book to realize why halliday's voice was so familiar. I realized, with a start, that I regularly read her column in Bust magazine about her life in NY with small, mouthy children. Job Hopper is definitely pre Inky and Milo (her kids). Popped out into the brutal world with only a theater degree, halliday needed to support herself. Written in short story format, halliday recounts the funny and often weird circumstances she found herself in trying to earn a paycheck. From waitress to clerk at an import store in a ghetto to nude model, none of her jobs are that out there. However, her description of fellow workers and the politics that accompany any job are amusing and engaging and very familiar.
July 26, 2012
An okay book of Halliday's adventures in the job market. A few parts were a bit tedious and her continual description of herself being above her employers and/or coworkers (depending on her job at the time) was a bit annoying. For some reason, I had trouble sticking to the book because it just wasn't as engaging as her book on traveling, No Touch Monkey, and the it took awhile to reach the end. Overall, though, I'm glad I stuck with it as there were a few chapters that were gems.
January 18, 2009
Not as good as The Big Rumpus, Job Hopper gets better as it goes on. The earliest pieces are the weakest, but it is worth reading to the end. Also good not to read straight through. She's not laugh out loud funny exactly, but she has a good wit and makes good, if sometimes entirely inappropriate, observations about the way people behave at work.
May 19, 2007
Ayun Halliday's writing is certainly not hilarious or even what I would consider amusing. Judging by some of her other books, the author sifts through her past, dredges up mediocre stories and spews out books. "No Touch Monkey" was also a disappointment. This is the last book by Halliday that I will spend my money on. I've had my fill of her boring stories.
May 17, 2012
This book was amusing. It wasn't laugh out loud funny though. I did appreciate the fact that it was set in Chicago (being a current Chicagoan myself). That made it a little more interesting to me. But, at the end of the day, I just kept thinking "I wish David Sedaris wrote this book." I bet that book would be laugh out loud funny.
May 3, 2008
It's been a while since I've read and East Village Inky zine, but Ayun Halliday is always a writer that I like. Her stories are funny and descriptive. My only complaint about this collection was that it felt somewhat overwritten or over-edited.
September 23, 2008
For those of us who identify as "jill of all trades, master of none," those who don't like to work for other people, and those who still don't know what they want to be when the grow up. Ayun Halliday finds the humor in every employment situation imaginable.
November 26, 2009
While entertaining, the book seemed like a bunch of unconnected anecdotes, with zero background or overarching narrative. Which was fine, but not as satisfying as some of her other books.
Pleasant but not a must-read.
Pleasant but not a must-read.
Read
May 5, 2022No company in their right mind would intentionally hire someone they know to be racist, sexist or potentially a threat to their business in any other way.
No company in their right mind would stoop to the gutter for high functioning bodies.
Stereotypes tend to be right most of the time.
No company in their right mind would stoop to the gutter for high functioning bodies.
Stereotypes tend to be right most of the time.
Read
May 13, 2007Essays on crap jobs that everyone can relate to. Amusing commiseration from someone who escaped into a job that actually works.
June 26, 2007
I read this book when I had a two hour commute each way to a job in the suburbs. It made me feel better about all of the crappy jobs I have had.
Read
November 26, 2007No, not my autobiography.
December 9, 2008
I'm a huge fan of this author. Everything she writes is awesome.
October 9, 2009
Job Hopper: The Checkered Career of a Down-Market Dilettante by Ayun Halliday (2005)
February 21, 2010
I'm not the only one!
February 24, 2012
A collection of short stories about Halliday's former work experiences. Enjoyable enough and humorous, although hardly ever laugh-out-loud funny. Two and a half stars.
December 3, 2013
I shudder in dread at the thought of encountering this woman either traveling or at any of the terrible jobs I've had over the years, but from the safe distance of my sofa I found her hilarious.
February 4, 2008
This book made me want to quit my job.
January 24, 2014
I identified with so much of this book!
Displaying 1 - 28 of 28 reviews