On the road back to work

By Timothy Pratt

Saturday, April 11, 2009 | 2 a.m.

Paula Gray stands on the northbound off ramp of Interstate 15, the same spot, she says, “where the homeless guy stands” and panhandles.

She flashes a smile, her green eyes highlighted by jade earrings, hoping that people stopped at the red light will roll down their windows.

But the 51-year-old is not homeless and she’s not asking for money. She’s an out-of-work professional and she wants a job.

After eight years as an administrative assistant at a construction company, Gray was laid off in July, placing her firmly among the ranks of the nation’s 13.2 million unemployed.

She used up her savings three months ago and since then has been withdrawing money from her 401(k), robbing from her future, as she puts it.

But Gray has a plan to end her longest bout of joblessness since high school. She has printed 1,500 cards with her name, followed by the phrase, “seeking employment,” a list of her abilities and attributes and her phone number. She is handing them out on the streets and highways of the Las Vegas Valley.

“My theory is that they’ll eventually get into the hands of somebody who can give me an interview,” she says.

“They show determination, creativity and resourcefulness. I believe somebody will be impressed by this,” she adds, offering evidence of the last item in her list of attributes, an “infectious positive attitude.”

Thursday was the second outing in her new venture. She skipped Wednesday to recover from the mild heatstroke and sunburn she suffered the day before. This time, she brought a broad straw hat and a bottle of water.

She chose the Sahara Avenue northbound off ramp because she lives nearby and has seen panhandlers there many times.

On Thursday, one of them, a skinny guy in jeans and a black T-shirt, paced back and forth across the street from her four or five times, apparently bothered by being beaten to the spot.

Gray removes her glasses before starting, to try to avoid looking too much “like a granny.”

She stands with the cards in her right hand, not unlike a soccer referee flashing a red card. She shouts to each driver, “Good afternoon! I’m looking for a job ...” The smile never leaves her face. If the windows let in her hands and voice, she passes a card and continues, “Maybe you know someone who knows someone who knows someone?”

She occasionally walks into traffic, over to an open window.

Some people shake their fingers, as if being offered something they don’t want. Some keep talking on their cell phones.

Some offer suggestions. Try Metro Police, for a dispatcher job. Try the county. Try the union. A blonde woman in a yellow Hummer with the words Century 21 on the side asks, “Any experience in real estate?”

A white car pulls up. A man in a blue tank top stands in the passenger seat, pokes through the open sunroof and snaps her picture. He’s a tourist. Look what I saw in Las Vegas!

Gray estimates that one in five cars are from out of town. One guy took her card after asking if she would be willing to relocate to London. “Sure,” she answers.

Gray has no family here, though she has lived in the valley 16 years. Her parents and her husband have died in that time. She tends to stay in a job, having held only three since 1993. In her most recent position, she handled the logistics and administration of a mid-sized construction company, which included a contract to provide more than 1,000 trees to the Wynn.

“I’ve never been in this situation before,” she says.

To survive without income, she refinanced her house. She applied for an extension in unemployment benefits. She converted her dining room into a bedroom and rents it out to a stranger.

Standing on a street corner “makes you uncomfortable,” she says. “It’s a little embarrassing that I find myself in this position at this time in my life.”

But after eight months, she can count the number of interviews she has landed on two hands. “I’ve waited ... for something to happen, doing what I’m supposed to do. It’s time to do something else, something more proactive.”

On Thursday, one guy wants to give her a few dollars. She doesn’t take them. “I want an honest day’s work,” she says. She remembers when a panhandler asked her for money at a gas station about a year ago. “I told him, ‘Why don’t you get a job?’ Now I feel bad about having said that.”

Around 5:30, the traffic thickening, two Las Vegas marshal squad cars pull up. It wasn’t the first time authorities had noticed Gray during her brief sojourn. On Tuesday, a Metro Police officer had told her to be careful and a Nevada Highway Patrol officer told her she would have to stand somewhere else. So she left.

Now the marshal was telling her the same thing, adding that he didn’t “want to pick her up off the pavement.” She mentioned that she had seen panhandlers there and wondered how they get away with it. The marshal told her that the panhandlers get arrested. She just has to move.

But Gray’s lemons-to-lemonade character won’t allow her to leave it at that. She passes one of her cards to the officer and tells him, “You might know someone who knows someone ...”

Sun photographer Leila Navidi contributed to this story.