My 30-Year-Old Daughter Said She Couldn’t Move Out Because ‘Nobody’s Hiring’ and Rent Was Too High – I Bet Her I Could Find Her a Job and Apartment in Two Weeks
“No calling friends who own businesses. No asking your neighbors. No favors. No ‘I know somebody who knows somebody.’”
“If it’s as easy as you say,” she continued, “do it the way everybody else has to.”
Fine. I agreed.
Monday morning, I sat down at the kitchen table with my coffee, opened her résumé and started searching.
By lunchtime, I had found 23 jobs.
I felt vindicated.
I actually texted Emily.
“You owe me dinner.”
She replied with a laughing emoji.
That annoyed me.
Then I started reading the listings carefully.
One advertised a salary of “up to $70,000.”
That sounded pretty good.
Until I opened the full description.
The guaranteed salary was $32,000.
The rest was commission.
Another was listed as entry-level.
It required three to five years of experience.
One required a bachelor’s degree and paid $17.50 an hour.
Another sounded perfect until I reached the bottom and realized it was a temporary four-month contract with no health insurance.
Still, there were several decent ones.
So I applied.
And applied.
And applied.
I rewrote Emily’s cover letter.
I adjusted her résumé.
I made a spreadsheet because apparently, once I started doing this, I became the sort of person who color-coded job applications.
By Wednesday, I had submitted 31 applications.
I was feeling pretty proud of myself.
Then the emails started coming.
“After careful consideration…”
“We have decided to move forward with other candidates…”
“While your experience is impressive…”
Some arrived less than an hour after I applied.
Others never came at all.
One company invited “Emily” to an interview.
Finally.
I nearly yelled across the house.
Then I realized the interview was a recorded video where she would answer questions alone while staring into her webcam.
Another company contacted her about a position I didn’t remember applying for.
I searched the company.
The “salary” was entirely commission-based, and the job involved going door-to-door.
I deleted that one from the spreadsheet.
By day six, I had applied to 47 jobs.
Emily had received two real interviews.
Neither listed the salary.
That was the part that really started bothering me.
I had always thought job hunting was simple.
You looked for a job.
You applied.
Someone hired you.
You worked.
You got paid.
Apparently, I had skipped several chapters.
So I moved on to the apartment portion of my bet.
I thought this would be easier.
Emily had to be exaggerating.
Nobody around here was paying $1,600 for some tiny apartment unless it had granite countertops and a swimming pool.
I opened one of the apartment websites.
I set the maximum rent to $1,200.
Four results appeared.
One was a parking space.
I thought I had clicked something wrong.
I hadn’t.
I increased it to $1,400.
A few apartments appeared.
The first was 410 square feet.
The second didn’t allow laundry machines and had no laundry facility in the building.
The third looked promising until I noticed it was 53 minutes away without traffic.
Then I called one.
The woman on the phone was perfectly nice.
Rent was $1,375.
Finally.
I asked what Emily would need to move in.
She started listing it.
Application fee.
Security deposit.
First month’s rent.
Proof of income.
Credit check.
Then she said something that made me sit up straighter.
The tenant needed to earn three times the monthly rent.
I actually stopped her.
“Three times?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“So she needs to make more than $4,000 a month to rent a $1,375 apartment?”
“That is our income requirement.”
I thanked her and hung up.
Then I stared at my notebook.
I checked the salary on one of the jobs I had applied to for Emily.
$19 an hour.
I did the math twice because I thought I had made a mistake.
I hadn’t.
That afternoon, I started making another spreadsheet.
This one was for apartments.
Rent.
Security deposit.
Application fees.
Parking.
Utilities.
Commuting.
Move-in costs.
