I had built a small tool for bartenders. It read a resume, scored it, rewrote the weak parts, suggested which places to apply to first. I'd put it online on a Thursday. By Saturday three people had used it. None of them had hired anyone yet because it's not that kind of tool, but they were applying faster.
On the Sunday I was eating cold rice in the sublet and realized I'd been trying to get hired for three weeks and hadn't once used my own thing on myself.
I pasted in my own resume. The tool told me, in its polite way, that I was applying to the wrong places, writing the wrong cover letters, and using language that would filter me out on the first scan. It rewrote the letter. It suggested a specific list of fifteen Midtown venues with high turnover.
I sent the rewritten letter to the first five on the list Monday morning. Tuesday afternoon I got a call back. The manager said come in tomorrow at 3 PM for a trail. I went. I wasn't great. I made it through.
They gave me the shifts starting the following Monday. Barback, Times Square, five nights a week.
I walked out of that bar and down 7th Avenue and every billboard was screaming something and I laughed out loud at nothing in particular. I had used my own tool on myself and it had worked. That was the first time in this city I felt like a professional instead of a survivor.