How a Stranger's Typo Flooded My Inbox

The interest in my nonexistent job was overwhelming

It was 4:44 on a recent Friday afternoon when the first email arrived. The message had been sent through our agency’s contact form.

Because we’re small and I’m a control freak, I have those messages come to me. It isn’t a heavy lift; that’s not how people typically get in touch with us. So it was unusual to get a message at all, let alone one that started like this:

I am interested in the Virtual Assistant opportunity. I am extremely resourceful, deadline driven, tech savvy, and have impeccable attention to detail.

You need to rethink your use of “impeccable,” I thought, since you screwed up one vital detail: we’re not looking for a virtual assistant.

A couple of minutes later, I got this:

Hello! Wanting to send my resume over for the virtual assistant position that’s available but need a good email address or contact person. Thanks!

Uh-oh.

Then, within seconds:

I am interested in the virtual assistant role you posted on LinkedIn.

This had the makings of a virtual nightmare.

Of course LinkedIn has something to do with this, I thought. Why should its offenses be limited to serving me up a raft of platitudes from self-proclaimed Productivity Ninjas and Chief Fun Officers?

Within moments, a torrent of submissions descended upon my hapless inbox like a Biblical plague.

I wrote back to the person who’d sent the first message, explained that there’d been some kind of mistake, and asked her to send me the link to the posting.

She sent me a link to our own site. Turns out she really did need to rethink the whole “impeccable” thing.

I moved on to the second person, who responded with a screenshot of the post instead of a link. I was only two candidates in and already not optimistic about the depth of this talent pool.

Nevertheless, the pic was enough for me to track down who posted the position.

Good help is hard to find, they say. So is a good job. Having been on both sides of the interview desk, I empathize with anyone who’s looking for either.

In this case, the agency that needed help has a name very close to ours. Someone there posted the URL with a typo, which sent the interested parties to our site. As much as it pained me to admit, LinkedIn wasn’t at fault. This time.

I sent the agency a message asking them to fix it, which I assumed they’d do promptly even though it was now after 5:00 on a Friday. After all, they would have been expecting responses.

With that in mind, I thought the right thing to do would be to let the people who ended up in my inbox know what happened and send them to the right site. I wrote back to everyone, copying and pasting this into the responses:

Hi. I'm afraid the company that posted this position made a mistake in their URL.

Their correct URL is (address)

Best of luck.

Meanwhile, the deluge continued. This wasn’t how I wanted to spend my Friday evening, so I figured I’d let things trickle off and deal with the remaining ones in the morning.

The emails never stopped. I messaged the agency again, this time through their own contact form, telling them I was sending people to their site and asking them to fix the posting ASAP. I noticed that there was no mention of the job on their site, so visitors would be just as confused there as they were at our site.

And confused they were.

If you’re job hunting, it’s troubling to come across a posting with nothing more than a link to a website where there’s no clear place to apply. Naturally, you’d go to the “Contact us” page, but then what should you do?

For some, the answer was to do exactly what the first three did: briefly express their interest.

Others went into much more detail, pasting their résumé into the response. Perfectly reasonable.

But a large group of messages fell under a category I’m calling “What the what?”

Here’s a sample of how these people chose to make a first impression in a professional manner. All messages are in their entirety.

First, the short and sweet:

I’d like this job

I need this one. I got the skills you need.

Good

Please count me in.

Good day

I wanna get hired

Good morning

Responding to Jib posting

Job Done

Now, the slightly more verbose:

Hi I am a rockstar Virtual Assistant who is looking for any open position.

As fate would have it, we hired Sammy Hagar just last week, so we’re all set at the moment.

Very excited to read about your specialized agency. I'm sad it had to end and would love to speak with you to learn more about your Company and what I can offer your team.

Alas, I’m sad too. It sure was fun while it lasted, though, wasn’t it?

Applying for virtual assistant. I know how to use some of the hardware to set appointments. Looking forward to working with you. Thank you and God bless.

So what are you saying? You can schedule meetings for me on a laptop but not a desktop? A phone but not a tablet? How about a printer? Keurig machine?

I feel this is the place I have been seeking to work for and with

Great, but can you work at us?

I am applying for this job because I believe I am the best fit for the position. You are going to enjoy working with me.

Wanna bet?

Your company is well known in the business world for its ability to nurture individuals and help them to reach their potential. it is especially well-known for helping those who may not have had the opportunity to attend university and gain formal qualifications. this is why I think that I would be a good fit here.

I appreciate you buttering me up like a savory baked potato, but if I may, to whom in the business world did you speak? What movers and shakers touted our admirable leadership skills? What titans of industry lauded our nurturing natures? I’d like to send them thank-you cards. Do you happen to know any good assistants who could help me with that?

Speaking of thanks, some people wrote back to say they appreciated my telling them that we weren’t the right company and giving them the proper address. But an alarming number wrote back for a different reason.

Here are a handful:

Hello Chris

I have seen the website please guide me for the next step.

But—

Hi Chris,

I am unable to send my profile there. Attaching the same.

Why would you—

After navigating the link, it doesn’t show any application form. Where should I apply?

How would I—

Thank you very much Sir, I'm very happy and excited for this opportunity. I hope to be part of your team very soon.

Did you not—

Hello. Thank you for your message. I've already submitted it through the correct URL. Please don't hesitate to let me know if it wasn't received or if there's anything else you need from me.

Was I not—

The emails poured in all weekend. All told, there were nearly 500 of them. In periodic bursts, I responded to every damn one. The other agency must have finally fixed the error late Monday morning, since that’s when the avalanche stopped.

They never wrote to apologize. They never got in touch to thank me for passing along their correct URL to all the respondents.

But I didn’t do it for the company. I did it for the people who need a job. I didn’t want them to miss out on the opportunity or think they’d been ignored.

Still, after their experience, they might want to rethink their interest in the position. It wasn’t a good sign that this particular agency was behind this particular kind of clusterfuck.

That’s because this agency isn’t a marketing agency, like us. They have a different specialty. I’ll let their About page tell you:

They left out their impeccable attention to detail.

Did ya hear? The very funny

Shelly Mazzanoble

and I are doing a biweekly Substack Live called “Funny Story,” in which we each surprise the other with a bizarrely entertaining news article. It’s a lot of fun, so check it out! Here’s the latest: