Terrible Interviews

In which we come back from hiatus

2010-05-15T17:29:00.000-07:00

Goooooood morning internets!

Long time no post, no?

I know, I know - I'm sure you've all been on the edge of your seats these past two months, wondering where the updates were. "WHERE COULD SHE BEEEEEEEEEEEE?" you've screeched to yourselves, hunched over your laptops, tears streaming down your faces.

What's that? Oh - you, ah, didn't really notice? Oh. Erm...well...that's cool, too.

The truth is, I have sort of scored myself a job, of sorts. A "freelance" job at a news organization that I used to work for a long time ago. I am a "freelancer." I "freelance."

The bad news is, I don't have things like "health insurance" or "guaranteed hours" or the "ability to expense a cab when I have to be at work at 4 am and there is no public transportation available at that time because this is DC and everything shuts down at midnight with the exception of the bus system which I would prefer not to be taking at 4 a.m. by myself and I'm sorry if that makes me a pretentious white person but let's face it people get murdered on the bus here in the wee hours" and other such useful, important things that usually come with jobs.

The good news is, I HAVE SOMETHING THAT RESEMBLES AN ACTUAL JOB. And I have been getting enough work that it's completely cut all blogging time out of my life for the past two months. Gah!

Now, here is the problem - because of this crazy "working" thing I've been doing, I haven't had any job interviews in the last two months - terrible or otherwise. No job interviews! NONE! WHAT to blog about?!

Well, I don't know. But I'm sure I'll come up with something terrible-interview-related. SURELY I'll have another terrible interview soon. And I'm pretty sure I've had a few that have been so terrible, I completely blocked them from memory, in which case...I will face the pain in order to hilariously write about them.

Anyway - STAY TUNED.

In which Terrible Interviews is famous!

2010-03-14T12:36:00.000-07:00

We've been mentioned in a column! Read all about it here.

In which I have a red skull on my hand

2010-03-12T16:04:00.001-08:00

So. Today I went on my first interview since the Great Potential Job Disaster of 2010 - of which we no longer speak. Anyway, this job was to be a press secretary for a certain U.S. senator. I studied studied studied and prepped prepped prepped for said interview, as I am not from the senator's state and have only actually been in the state one time, ever.

However, last night I made the mistake of going to a concert. That, in itself, was not so much of a mistake - except that I went with this guy who I thought originally was nice, but who turned out to be the kind of guy that wolf-whistles for cabs instead of sticking his hand up like a normal person, and then stands on the sidewalk and shouts for the cab to stop and pick him up (again, instead of JUST RAISING HIS HAND like EVERYONE ELSE DOES), and then, once in the cab, yells at the cab driver for driving without his cab light on. And also, the kind of guy who talks for 3.5 hours about himself and asks me approximately 2 questions, one of which was, "what, are you serious?" after I told the cab driver that we'd be making two - separate - stops at the end of the night.

Anyway. I say all of this because in going to the concert, I had to get my hand stamped - something I didn't think twice about until this morning, when I realized that there was an outline of a large, inky, red skull on the back of my right hand and there was no way it was coming off in time for the interview.

I scrubbed - and I mean SCRUBBED - my hand until I felt like I was going to scrub my skin right off, and STILL the red skull remained. Somewhat lighter than it was, but still - I HAD A RED SKULL ON MY HAND. Arrrrrrrrrgh.

"Ok," I thought. "No problem. I'll just...not let anyone see my right hand."

I decided the best way to accomplish this was to either sit on my hand during the interview, or gesture with it so quickly that it would be impossible to detect a red skull flashing around.

Yes. Perfect plan, no?

So, I show up at the senate building and proceed through security.

Security guard: "Excuse me, miss, but it looks like you have something on your - "

Me: "No I don't! No! It's nothing! It's just - I mean, I just went to this concert last night, and they had to stamp my hand, but you can hardly notice it, it's - "

Security guard: "On your - backside."

Me: "I - what?"

Security guard: "I'm sorry, it's just - you might want to stop in the ladies' room, it looks like you have some kind of a mark on your - um, backside. Like you might have accidentally sat on something, or.."

Me: [craning my neck around to look at my, erm, "backside" and spotting some kind of smudge] "Oh! Oh gosh, thank you, I - yes, I'll make sure to stop and, um, take care of that."

Security guard: "No problem. I would just brush it off myself, but, ah, well, that's a part of a lady that I'm not allowed to touch without getting fired."

Me: "Ah." Awkward pause. "Erm. Yes. Thank you."

So, I stop at the ladies' room, get rid of all awkward smudges, lament the fact that my hair, which was neat and straight upon leaving my house, is now a straggly mess after 5 minutes in the rain, and proceed to the interview, determined to keep the giant red hand skull out of sight.

Then it turned out that the woman with whom I was interviewing turned out to be super relaxed, super fun, and about my age, and didn't bat an eye at the red skull. Hooray!

In which I start over

2010-03-10T13:45:00.001-08:00

Good evening, fellow internets.

So, we've had a setback here at Terrible Interviews - and by "setback," I mean that I did not get a job that I really, really wanted and really, really thought I was going to get. I know what you're thinking - doesn't that sort of thing happen, you know, ALL THE TIME? Isn't that, ah, the whole POINT of this blog?

Ah, well, yes. And you'd think after so many, you know, terrible interviews, that I would be used to this, but this time it CAUGHT ME OFF GUARD. For whatever reason, I kind of thought the whole thing was going to work out this time. To borrow from Bridget Jones (the book, not the movie - although I do like the movie, I highly recommend the book because OMG HILARIOUS) - it's like when you're walking alone at night and you kind of think someone's following you, but you know they're not really. And you kind of have a vague feeling that something bad MIGHT happen, but you don't really. But then they go and grab you around the neck and all of a sudden you didn't get the job.

Oh, Bridget. We understand each other so well, I think.

ANYWAY - what this DOES mean is that the TERRIBLE INTERVIEW STORIES WILL CONTINUE. Oh, yes. They will continue. Watch out, internets, because WE ARE BACK.

In which I stick my hand in a jar of acid

2010-02-26T11:19:00.001-08:00

Because I did not get the job.

Length of interview process for this particular job: 4 months

Number of initial applicants: 350

Number of finalists at the end: 4

Number of interviews I went on: 3

Number of times I was "unofficially" told I had this job "in the bag": 3

Number of days left hanging after final interview: 5

Method of rejection: email form letter.

I think, perhaps, this one goes beyond a "terrible" interview experience and lands squarely in the category of "devastating." I say that because I don't even have the heart to face-push anyone. Siiiiiiiiiigh.

In which I am STILL waiting

2010-02-25T11:56:00.000-08:00

Great Potential Job Offer Watch, Day Four.

Job offers: 0

Calls from job interviewer: 0

Number of times I have checked my phone for any missed calls: 947

Level of anxiety, on a scale of 1 to 10: 45,000

Amount of sea-salted kettle-cooked potato chips consumed in midst of anxiety: 1 bag.

In which I am still on pins and needles

2010-02-24T11:56:00.000-08:00

We are now on Day Three of the Great Potential Job Offer Watch. In case you're just joining us, I thought I was going to hear about a super awesome job opportunity on Monday. And now it is Wednesday. And I have heard nothing.

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

Tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock.

If this job has been offered to someone else, and they're taking THREE DAYS to decide whether or not they want to accept it, while the rest of us wait in anguish and would IMMEDIATELY LEAP at this job - rest assured that I will FIND that person and facepush them. And if you don't know what a facepush is, trust me - you don't want to be on the receiving end.

In which I start throwing furniture

2010-02-23T08:36:00.001-08:00

Not really. But I'm THIS CLOSE, internets. THIS CLOSE to throwing a chair across the room, crazy-rock-star-trashing-a-hotel-room-style, provided I have any upper-body strength, which I do not, but STILL.

I just had a third interview yesterday. Third. Interview. All at the same place. For one job. Three interviews now. All of my references were called. All of my references told me that it was pretty likely I was going to get this job. I got very excited. The third and final interview was fine. At the end of it, the interviewers were all, "well, we're going to make a decision today, and finally put an end to this long process!"

"HOORAY!!!" I said. "HUZZAH AND HURRAH!"

Then I went home and waited, clutching my phone.

And waited.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaand waited.

The phone rings! Oh. It's my brother.

Phone rings again!

Arrrrrrrrrgh. It's my other brother. I mean, hooray, brothers, but this is toying with my nerves.

And now...still nothing. No word whatsoever.

WHY? WHY? WHY tell me that you're going to make a decision on a SPECIFIC DAY and then NOT TELL ME ANYTHING AT ALL? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY?

In which I'm not asked any questions

2010-02-18T09:50:00.001-08:00

Hello, internets. Long time no post, no? Well, I've been sort of hesitant to post any stories of recent job interviews I've had because I MAY be close to ACTUALLY GETTING one of them. I know what you're thinking: "HA. FAT CHANCE, FRECKLES MCGEE." (Hah, I have, like, 4 freckles, but that's how Mike "The Situation" described the girl who was the "grenade" on this one episode of Jersey Shore and I thought it was funny and...anyway. Not that I watch it. Nope.)

Anyway, one of these said jobs is a job that I'm pretty sure I'm definitely NOT getting, so behold: the terrible interview story that came out of it.

So, it's yet another interview for yet another communications job at yet another semi-political organization. Yadda yadda yadda. I arrive for the interview.

Interview lady: "Hi, [K]. It's great to meet you. As you know, we're looking to fill this communications position. It's pretty standard - responding to media inquiries, a lot of writing, a lot of pitching, and some social media."

Me, inwardly: I am getting so, so tired of participating in this exact dialogue OVER AND OVER AGAIN, in INTERVIEW AFTER INTERVIEW. My life has somehow become a Groundhog Day-style cycle of job interviews. Ugh...OH MY GOSH. What if I'm IN Groundhog Day RIGHT NOW? I mean, what if what happened in the movie is HAPPENING TO ME RIGHT NOW IN REAL LIFE? I mean, it makes sense - all I do is go on job interviews, have the same inane conversation with every interviewer, and repeat the cycle 9000 times. I'M JUST LIVING THE SAME DAY OVER AND OVER. How did Bill Murray get out of this? He had to, like, change something, or fix something, or save someone, right? THINK. I think I last watched this movie sometime in the late 90s. I vaguely remember him ending up in jail...am I supposed to end up in jail? And then...I wake up with a job? That doesn't sound right. Hmmm. Must look into this.

Me, out loud, to interview lady: "That sounds great."

Interview lady: "Great."

Me: Smile expectantly.

Interview lady: "So."

Me: Still smiling expectantly.

Interview lady: "So...."

Long pause.

Me: "Oh! Uh...soooo..."

Interview lady: "Well...what do you want to know?"

Me: "Erm. Um...well, I guess - maybe if you could talk a little bit more about...uh, job specifics, that...that would be helpful."

Interview lady: "Actually, I think I covered it."

Me: "Oh! Um...well, that's great."

Interview lady: Staring at me.

Me: "Erm...well, I, er, think I would be a good fit, because..." blah blah my experience blah blah Groundhog Day conversation all over again blaaaaaaaaaah.

Interview lady: "Great."

Silence.

Me: Unsure of how to proceed.

Interview lady: Still silent.

Me: "Well...I guess that's...all, then."

Interview lady: "Great! Thanks for coming in."

Me: "Erm...sure. Um, thanks for having me."

The end.

Now, I'm no "hiring manager" or even "permanently employed," but generally the interviewer is supposed to ask the job seeker some questions, no? Whatever. I went home and had a beer.

In which half of my interviews are canceled

2010-02-08T06:27:00.000-08:00

All right.

FIRST OF ALL, I hate snow.

SECOND OF ALL, I hate the SHEER PANIC that pervades the mid-Atlantic at the mere IDEA of snow before there is EVEN A FLAKE IN THE SKY.

THIRD OF ALL...half of my interviews were canceled, which means that my day of four interviews became my day of two interviews. Which means I braved traveling through the MASSIVE SNOW BLIZZARD THING for NOTHING. Well, not nothing, but still.

Shall I start from the beginning? OK.

Thursday evening:
"I have four interviews tomorrow!" I say to myself as I skip to the train station. "LA LA LA LA LA four interviews! AND it's not supposed to start really snowing until the AFTERNOON, so I will be able to get them all done in time! La la la!"

Thursday night:

Phone rings.

"Hi, [K]? This is [interview #1]. Just to be on the safe side, I think it's best if we cancel tomorrow."

Me: "Oh - really? It's - I mean, it hasn't actually, um, started snowing or anything, yet, and - "

[Interview #1]: "Well, I think we're closing early tomorrow, just to be on the safe side."

Me: "Oh. OK, well, that's - that should be - "

[Interview #1]: "We'll be in touch, ok? Great." Click.

Hmmm.

Friday morning:

Peer outside. No snow! Not one single flake.

"Hooray!" I yell, skipping downstairs and thoroughly annoying my roommates who are dragging themselves into work. "THREE INTERVIEWS STILL ON!"

Check email. See email from [interview #2].

"Hi, [K]. We're closing at noon today, so I'm going to have to cancel our interview. Sorry about that. Can we reschedule for three weeks from now?"

Stare disbelievingly at email. Begin typing.

"Hi [interviewer #2]! I could actually come in earlier this morning, if that's easier for you all, before you close?"

Hit send. Wait impatiently.

See response come through.

"Thanks for being flexible, but actually, since some of us live pretty far outside DC, we're just...not going to come in at all today."

Peer outside window again. Still complete absence of any kind of snow or snow-like material falling from sky.

Sigh. Type type type.

"Sure. OK. Well...see you in three weeks."

Sigh again.

Send email to [interview #3].

"Hi [interview #3], I just wanted to check in and make sure we'll still on for today. I know some businesses are closing early, so just let me know!"

Wait wait wait wait impatiently.

See response.

"Hi [K] - definitely still on. See you soon."

"YAY," I say, "at least SOMEONE hasn't COMPLETELY LOST THEIR HEADS."

Get ready to leave for [interview #3]. Check email one last time. See email from [interview #4] in inbox. Oh geez.

"Hi [K], I'm not sure what's going to happen with the snow, so I'd hate to have you come in today if we end up leaving early. Do you think we could reschedule for next week?"

Look outside again. NO SNOW. NOTHING AT ALL. NOTHING IS HAPPENING.

ALRIGHT. LISTEN, MID-ATLANTIC, I AM PUTTING MY FOOT DOWN. I AM FROM THE NORTH. AND IN THE NORTH, WE DO NOT FREAK OUT OVER THE SNOW UNTIL THERE IS ACTUALLY SNOW FALLING FROM THE SKY. FOR THE LOVE OF TACOS, LET'S STOP THE MADNESS.

Begin typing.

"Hi [interview #4] - well, I'm already in the city, so it's really not a problem for me to come to your offices early, and maybe we can at least meet before your offices close? I don't think it's really supposed to start snowing until late this afternoon, and the roads are fine right now, so...how about I come in early? This morning? Yes?"

SEND.

Wait. Drum fingers on countertop impatiently. Drum drum drum.

Response comes through inbox.

"Hi [K]. That sounds great. See you then."

SUCCESS.

So. I made it to two interviews, and neither were terrible, so yay. But I would like to note that I could EASILY have made it to ALL FOUR INTERVIEWS and EVERYONE would have had PLENTY OF TIME TO DRIVE HOME as the snow did not start sticking until LATE THAT AFTERNOON and I UNDERSTAND that there was eventually like THREE FEET OF SNOW dumped on DC but I STILL could have made it to my interviews and the fact that I did not has made me all SHOUTY. GAAAAAAAAAH.

In which our guest blogger spends 5 hours in Nova Scotia

2010-02-04T10:53:00.000-08:00

To tide you over until I have stories from my DAY OF MARATHON INTERVIEWING (see previous post), today we have another exciting guest blogger!

[UPDATE: Um, my day of marathon interviewing may not even HAPPEN now because of the MASSIVE SNOW BLIZZARD THING that's currently barreling towards the mid-Atlantic. I swear, if I have to reschedule FOUR INTERVIEWS, SOMEONE IS GOING TO GET CUT. THIS IS DEFINITELY AN ALL-CAPS SITUATION.]

Say hello to [J], who, let me tell you, knows only too well the horrors of the job search process. Enjoy.

Greetings Blogdom. It's been entirely too long since I addressed you. I had so much to complain about during grad school. Unemployment - for me - was far less interesting, though no less frustrating. In full disclosure I should let you know that after 15 long months, I found a company willing to employ me. The past 6 months have brought various excitements that come with a new job and a move across the country. Yet while it is true that I have one good interview story, it is also true that I have a myriad of terrible interview stories to share. And since today is my 6 month employment anniversary (as well as a day in which I find myself dreadfully bored), I thought it an appropriate time to piece together one such story. Thanks to [K] for hosting the blog and continually posting humorous - if tragic - interview stories.

When I escaped grad school, I still wasn't sure what I wanted to be when I grew up. I had spent the previous four years studying the combustion of porous carbon particles. Fascinating, no? One revelation I had during those years was that I am passionate about renewable energy. I was especially interested in wind energy as I believe its potential for growth over the next 20-30 years is enormous. The tricky question was, how does one transition from studying coal combustion to a job in a "green" industry? So I started applying to every wind energy company I could find - for any position that seemed remotely interesting.

[WP] was the first wind company to show interest in my talents (whatever those are). This company is actually based in Bristol, England and the job would include an international relocation - something that, quite frankly, at this stage of life would be ridiculously exciting. The interview process began with an international phone interview. Now, it's hard enough to understand foreign accents in person. Attempting to confidently carry on a conversation over a cell phone across the globe is at least slightly more of a challenge. The interview progressed as many phone interviews do. Let me tell you about our company. Tell me about your background. Here's the position we're considering you for. Are you interested? (As if there has ever been an unemployed person who would answer "no" to such a question!?) Ok, well, I'll get back to you.

After the interview I spent the next several days re-examining my every word of the conversation. How did I sound? Was I too enthusiastic? I did my best to resist the urge to day dream about life in the UK. After all, the chances were certainly slim that I'd be offered such a dream job. But then I got an email, asking to set up a second interview, this time with the department head as well as another team member. Holy jeebus! They're actually considering me for this position! I have to learn what the crap it is they're asking me to do. Research time.

The more I looked into the work involved with the position they were discussing, the more fascinated I became. This is the perfect job for me! It's exactly where my background in applied math intersects with the wind industry! I'll be hired for sure. I spent two weeks reading journal publications related to the discipline of wind resource assessment. Then came the interview. I made the mistake of drinking some coffee that morning, so I was good and wired for the interview. Not to mention my stomach was nice and unsettled. As if the previous interview hadn't been difficult enough to understand, this time they took it to the next level and put me on speaker phone. Have you ever tried to understand a British person on speaker phone? It's harder than you'd think. The interview is somewhat similar to the first, though the boss's questions are much more pointed. But I do my very best to assure him that - in the words of B.Rock - "Yes I Can!" (I wonder if [K] will censor that quote haha.)

[Note from [K]: cough ten percent national unemployment cough cough]

I come out of the interview feeling optimistic.

Another several weeks of waiting ensue. It's at this point that I make what would turn out to be a fatal flaw. In the excitement of the interview process, caught up in the illusion of an imminent international job offer, I decide not to continue my job search. I foolishly believe that I've nailed it and this job will be mine. Then the phone rings... they'd like to bring me for an on-site interview. Heck yes! A free trip to.... Nova Scotia? It turns out that flying me to Bristol would be too expensive. So they want me to interview at the next closest office in Halifax, Nova Scotia. Um... ok! I'm free tomorrow. Oh, uh, yes... several weeks from now would be fine.

More waiting. More anticipation. More dreaming of a charming life in Britain. At this point, my wife and I are seriously considering the prospect of moving abroad for a few years. The day of the third interview arrives. I catch an early morning flight from Dulles to Halifax (which is a beautiful city by the way). A half hour cab ride to the office. The interview lasts about three hours. It's the usual fair. I crush it. Afterward it's right back to the airport to catch my flight home. All the way home thinking, surely they wouldn't have spent two grand on plane tickets if they weren't going to offer me the job, right? Wrong.

After three interviews, including one international flight, I am informed that the company has decided it would be too expensive to hire a US citizen. It seems work visa's are quite hard to come by. Therefore they've decided to hire someone less qualified than me who happens to have the advantage of being a UK citizen. I am stunned. I mean absolutely floored. I did not see this coming.

Some of you may be thinking "that's not a terrible interview story". I would reply to you that in all my job hunting, never was I strung on for longer (and only once over a greater distance) during an interview process. And let's not forget: The higher you climb, the further and harder you fall.

Best of luck to those of you still searching. Keep the faith.

In which I have 4 interviews in 1 day

2010-02-02T10:09:00.001-08:00

Internets! I'm sorry about the lapse in posting; but don't worry.

I'm about to go on FOUR job interviews in ONE day.

ONE DAY. FOUR INTERVIEWS. THAT'S RIGHT.

If that isn't grounds for some exceptionally terrible interview stories, than I don't know what is. I fully expect that by the fourth interview, I'm going to be calling everyone by the wrong name and will be completely unaware of what job I'm even interviewing for. It'll probably go something like this:

Interviewer: "So, why are you interested in this position?"

Me, sleepily, with drooping eyes: "I don't know."

Interviewer: "You...don't know?"

Me, slumping sleepily in my seat: "Mmm-hmm. Oh. Um - I like...writing..."

Interviewer: "Uh...ok. Erm - any other reason?"

Me, head dipping close to desk: "Yesh. Um...exciting...opportunity. Hmm."

Interviewer: "Are you alright?"

Me: "Yesh. I's hard worker...but imma jus take lil' nap." ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ.

At this point, my interview will likely assume that I'm drunk and I'll be escorted off the premises. Good times.

STAY TUNED.

In which I steal a story from the New York Times

2010-01-25T13:15:00.000-08:00

Over the weekend, I stumbled across this HIGH-LARIOUS terrible interview story that some guy wrote for the New York Times. And despite the fact that it's a) not my own story; b) not so much of a terrible-interview-story as a forced-to-take-extreme-actions-out-of-sheer-frustration-in-the-interview-process story; and c) apparently violates some kind of copyright law for me to just post the story here - I'm posting it anyway. Because this "Neal Hirschfeld" and I are clearly kindred spirits, and I'm guessing that this man could also fill up his own blog of terrible interview stories.

ENJOY.

Complaint Box: The E-Snub
New York Times
Neal Hirschfeld
January 22, 2010

NOT too long ago, a magazine in Manhattan invited me, by e-mail, to interview for a job. After meeting with me, the managing editor and the director of human resources asked me to take home the standard editing test and return it ASAP. I dutifully obliged.

And then I waited. One day. Two days. A week. A month. Two months. Three … well, you get the picture.

Not only was there no word on whether I would be offered the job — nobody at the magazine even bothered to e-mail me to say that my completed test had been received!

Back in the good old days, people used to duck your phone calls. Or just not return them. But in this, the electronic era, a whole new brand of disdain has come into vogue. The age of the e-snub is upon us.

I have grown weary of this kind of “dissing.” People who seem to go blind, mute and limp when all you are seeking are a few keystrokes in reply. Prospective employers whose computers appear to crash when asked to give something resembling a definitive answer, one way or the other.

Annoying e-mail messages plague all of us, but those of a more legitimate nature are surely deserving of a simple reply. Unfortunately, basic e-courtesy is in short supply. So, having been burned in the past by e-boors, I decided that enough was enough. The magazine had left me in limbo. I was going to have my revenge.

Sitting down at my computer one morning, I e-mailed the managing editor to say that I had happily accepted the job. More specifically, I wrote that I was “delighted to learn that I will be joining the editorial team!” I went on to say that “the salary and vacation are fine and I will report for duty bright and early Monday morning.”

Whereupon, after the prolonged cold shoulder I had received, I was immediately bombarded with urgent e-mail messages, accompanied by the online equivalent of bells and whistles — the red exclamation point. Urgent messages were left on my answering machine, demanding that I call Human Resources at once. It was just too delicious.

When I finally did call back, the H.R. director was beside herself. “Who authorized this?” she demanded breathlessly. “Who was it that told you? There must have been some mistake. Nobody cleared this with me. I don’t get it.”

“Well,” I said sweetly, “I spoke to the editor in chief and he told me I’ve been hired, so I’ll be there first thing Monday. And, let me tell you, I am truly excited about joining your team!”

“But … but … but …” she sputtered.

Finally, I let the cat out of the bag.

“Listen, lady,” I told her, “when you ask someone to come in for an interview, take a test and physically return it to you, and you can’t be bothered after three months to let that person know where he or she stands, much less acknowledge even receiving the test back, you are nothing but rude, thoughtless, unprofessional amateurs.”

Huffily, she started to give me the stock speech about “our hiring procedures,” until I abruptly cut her off with the appropriate barnyard epithet. Then I barked: “Do you get it now? Well, do you?”

Meekly, she conceded, “Yes, I get it.”

No, I did not get the job. But there have been other satisfactions — most notably, the kudos of other slighted job seekers when I relate the tale. Having been subjected to similar indignities, they tell me they love it, absolutely love it. In fact, it’s been something on the order of a collective cheer.

In which the tables are turned

2010-01-20T09:16:00.000-08:00

PEOPLE OF EARTH:

In celebration of the fact that I have managed to snag myself an occasional freelance gig, and it's too early to start the celebratory drinking, I've decided instead to write up a terrible interview story that has a delightful twist to it.

A few months ago, I was at a birthday party for one of my friends, and was talking to his roommate, whom I'd never met before. He was talking about how he wanted to prank this guy that he worked with - there was an open accounting position at their company, and this guy had interviewed a bunch of people for the job but hadn't actually hired anyone yet, and it was getting kind of annoying for everyone else. Also, the guy was kind of a tool.

So, in other words, a perfect prank target.

"Yeah, I really want to have someone come in to interview with him, and just be, like, the worst person ever," said my friend's roommate. "Just give the most absolute worst interview and freak him out."

"Heee!" I said. "That would actually be really funny to watch."

"Oh, so you're going to do it?" said my friend, appearing from out of nowhere.

"I - what?" I said.

"I suggested you, as the person to do it," said my friend. "To be the fake interviewee. I mean, you're not doing anything during the day."

Ahem.

"Oh stop," said my friend, who, I should say, was also unemployed at the time. "I can't do it myself, and you'd have fun with it, right?"

"Hmmm," I said.

"We'll tell you everything you'll need to know," said my friend's roommate. "All you have to do is act like it's a real interview."

"Well," I said, "I mean...oh...alright, WHY NOT," and took another swig of beer.

I mean, I wasn't really doing anything during the day.

So.

A week later, I am on my way to this company to "interview" for an accounting job. My friend's roommate and his coworkers had made up a fake resume for me, and had written down a bunch of suggestions of things to say, and also gave me an "interview survey" that I needed to have this guy fill out at the end of the interview - a written assessment of my interviewing skillz.

"How am I supposed to get him to do that?" I asked.

"Just, you know, hand it to him at the end," said my friend's roommate - whom I'm going to call "Paul" from now on to avoid confusion - while we conferred in the car on the way over to his office building. "OK, so, you kind of have free reign - put your feet up, say inappropriate things, just basically try and be the worst possible job candidate in the entire world. Oh - did you bring any gum? You should probably chew gum during the interview."

"Oh," I said, "no, but I brought a bag of carrots."

Pause.

Paul: "Yessssssssssssssssssss."

So, Paul drops me off at the office building and goes to park his car and sneak back inside so he wouldn't be seen with me, and I mosey up to the office and announce that I'm here for an interview for the accounting job.

Also, side note, I've mentioned this before but it should be said again that I have ABSOLUTELY NO MATH SKILLS WHATSOEVER. And I am supposed to be legitimately passing as an accountant during this interview. Hmmm.

Anyway, so I'm sitting in the lobby, dressed in my interview best, when the prank target comes out. We'll call him... "Ron."

Ron: "[K]? Thanks for coming in, let's get started."

Me: "Ok, great."

We sit in the conference room. I slouch in my chair.

Ron: "Now, why don't you tell me a little bit about your background."

Me: "Sure."

I put my feet up on the chair next to me.

Ron: Appears unfazed.

Hmmm.

Me: "Well, I graduated from...from..."

Oh my gosh, I can't remember what my fake resume says.

Me: "Um...well, I graduated from...college...and started working in the accounting field. I worked for a nonprofit and then I moved to the American Diabetes Association, which is where I am currently."

Ron: "Cool."

Me: "Yep. I work in the fundraising department. But, you know, I'm looking to make a change. I have an ethical conflict."

Ron: "Oh. Really?"

Me: "Yeah. I mean, all day long, people are calling me, wanting to make donations. But GOD I just want to be all, YOU'RE WASTING YOUR MONEY, PEOPLE."

Ron: "Uh...why?"

Me: "I just think of diabetes as, like, a weak disease, you know? I mean, worst case scenario, what - you lose a foot?"

Ron: Perplexed silence.

Me: "Oh nooooo, my FOOT is gone! OH HORRORS! God. I just want to say to these people - why don't you give your money to a place that prevents, like, a real disease? Like AIDS."

Ron: Continued perplexed silence.

I stretch my legs out in my chair.

Ron: "Um...ok."

Me, pulling out my bag of carrots: "Do you mind if I eat? I have low blood sugar."

Ron: "Uh - no, go ahead."

Me: "Thanks."

Ron: "So - well, let me tell you a little bit about the job. It's in the accounting department - "

Me: CRUNCH CRUNCH BITE CARROT CRUNCH CRUNCH CRUNCH.

Ron: "And...er...well, we're looking to move pretty quickly on this, and..."

CRUNCH CRUNCH CRUNCH. Swallow.

Me: "Yeah, it sounds great. I hope it's not too math-heavy, though."

Ron, laughing uncomfortably: "Really? Why?"

Me: "I mean, I technically work in fundraising now, but I'm not exactly 'good with numbers' [complete with air quotes] so, yeah."

Ron: "Well - ha - that's - haha, that's alright."

Me: "Great!" Crunch crunch.

My cell phone, which I have conveniently set to a super annoying, high-pitched ring tone, rings.

REEEEEEEEEEEEEEE TEE TEE TEE REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE TEE TEE TEE REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE TEE TEE TEE REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Me: "Oh! I'm sorry - I just need to get this. Won't take a minute. Hello?"

Paul, who is on the other end of the line: "How's it going?"

Me: "OH HEY BOO!" Pause. "Yeah, I can talk." Pause. "Oh, no, nothing important. What's up?"

Paul then feeds me a bunch of hilarious lines that sadly I CAN'T REMEMBER. Real "Paul," do you remember? I feel like we staged a fight, but I don't know. Whatever it was, it went on for, like, ten minutes, while "Ron" started to look increasingly awkward and annoyed at the same time. Anyway.

Me, hanging up the phone: "Sorry about that."

Ron: "No problem."

Me: "Great. Superrrrr."

Ron: "So. Where do you see yourself in five years?"

Me: "Oh. Actually, I kind of just want to get married, and just...not do anything."

Ron: "I see."

Me: "Incidentally, what is your policy on inter-office dating?"

Ron, laughing uncomfortably: "Oh haa har, uh, I don't think there is one. I guess you just shouldn't, like, date the boss, maybe."

Me: "Oh, I KNOW. Believe me. Learned that one the hard way."

Ron actually looks somewhat impressed/extremely interested by this. Ha. Boys.

Me: CRUNCH CRUNCH MORE CARROTS CRUNCH.

Ron: "If you could do one thing in the last five years differently, what would it be?"

Me, putting my feet up in the desk: "Um, I guess back when I was a freshman at U -" I stop myself just in time from saying my actual alma mater, before remember that I have a fake resume that I'm supposed to be sticking to.

Me: "At - um, at - at [college on fake resume] - well, I had a minor accident with a car."

Ron: "Really."

Me: "Yeah. But that guy didn't have to lose his leg after all, so actually, maybe I wouldn't do it differently."

Ron: Staring pensively off into space.

Me: "Um...what would you do differently?"

Ron then launches into a really heartfelt story about how he wouldn't have stopped playing AA baseball during college. It's actually really kind of emotional. I start to feel like an ass.

Me: "Wow. Well...you can...always play baseball, now, for...like...a league here, maybe?"

Ron: "Well, anyway, as I said, we're going to make a decision pretty quickly, so - oh, I forgot to ask, how did you find out about this position?"

Me, remembering on that on my fake resume, it says I know a real person at the company: "Oh, I know [actual employee], she told me about it."

Ron: "Oh, you know [actual employee]! That's great."

Me: "Yeah. She's kind of a bitch, though."

Ron: Stunned silence.

Me: "Oh! I forgot - before I leave, could you just, um, fill out this survey for me?"

Ron, taking the paper and looking puzzled: "Survey?"

Me: "Yeah, it's - ah - my, ah, therapist, she thinks it would be a good idea for me to get feedback on my interviewing skills."

Ron: "Oh. Sure."

We walk out of the conference room, around the corner, and into the lobby where the ENTIRE COMPANY IS APPLAUDING.

Ron: "I KNEW IT! I KNEW THIS COULD NOT HAVE BEEN A REAL INTERVIEW, I KNEW IT!"

Ahhhhh. Prank: successful. And I must say, getting to say crazy things and watching the INTERVIEWER squirm for once, instead of the other way around, was the BEST FEELING EVER.

Poor guy, though. I hope he's forgiven me by now.

In which our guest blogger deals with a heinous CEO

2010-01-19T07:04:00.001-08:00

So, while I've been sitting here, waiting on pins and needles (or is it "sitting" on pins and needles? Or just "on" pins and needles? Hmmm...clearly, these are the kinds of pressing questions that occupy my mind) for a job offer that, unfortunately, seems increasingly unlikely to come, it occured to me that I had a bunch of terrible interview stories from my friends just sitting in my email inbox, yet to be shared with the world.

"Oooh HOORAY!" I had said when they first emailed them to me. "Excellent! I'll post these PRONTO."

And that was, oh, two months ago.

Oops.

So. Without further adieu, please welcome today's guest blogger, "Natalie."

This interview comes from my early working days. As a young college graduate with good grades and a B.A., I was perhaps naively optimistic about the interview process. I moved to D.C., took a temp job with a non-profit and began my job search. One of those early interviews was with a small, 50-person company in northern Virginia that specialized in event management. My degree was in English, so no direct career path presented itself, and I thought event planning/management/execution would be an interesting place to begin.

I arrived at 9:00 AM for what I thought would be a standard first-round interview. First, I met with the HR Manager. She was very nice, very friendly, and very positive about my resume. By the end, she was telling me about the general work hours, the monthly happy hours, etc. I took this as a good sign.

Then she asked me if I’d be interested in meeting with a few other members of their team. Obviously I said “yes.”

The next person I met with was in the media-generation department. He asked me if I had an experience with PhotoShop and I admitted that aside from some minor exploration in my student newspaper days, I hadn’t. But, I was pretty seriously into Art back in high school and when he asked me if I’d be interested in learning PhotoShop, I practically salivated at the chance. Paid to play with a several-hundred dollar picture program? I was so there!

Next I met with a woman who was involved with direct planning. I should mention that by this time, it’s 11:30 AM and I’d been interviewing for 2.5 hours. But, everything seemed to be going well.

My three interviewers consulted – I could see them, nudging each other and whispering while I waited in the next room – and then they asked me if I’d have time to meet with their CEO. Their CEO, they said, would really like to meet me.

By this point it was after noon and I was hungry because I (to this day) prefer to eat at something like 11:00 AM but again, what could I say but “yes.”

[Note from [K]: As someone who has eaten many meals with "Natalie," I can assure you that this early lunchtime eating thing is very true. Also, "Natalie" is the only person with whom I can go to a restaurant, order sides of mac'n'cheese and mashed potatoes, and legitmately call it "dinner," because she orders the same thing. Anyway.]

Besides, at the time I was thinking that meeting the CEO was most definitely a good sign and, with any luck, I’d have an offer by the end of the day.

If I only knew.

One thing I should mention - in all of the abovementioned questions I was asked one question again and again. Everyone wanted to know if my current boss – my temp job boss – was a micromanager. They asked the question in different ways, and each time I wrote it off. I thought I knew what they were really asking: Are you capable of independent work? Are you trustworthy? Do you have initiative? How’s your work ethic?

So I answered enthusiastically again and again that even though my temp job was temporary and my boss liked me to check in, I was given assignments and expected to carry them out independently . And I threw in examples from my summer internships, my college activities. I thought I was nailing it.

Little did I know what they were really asking: how will you handle a psychotic micromanager?

Not well, as it turns out. But moving along.

I was ushered into the CEO’s office. He was a youngish man, maybe 40, and a UVA alum, which I figured gave me an instant “in.” It didn’t.

For one long moment he looked at my resume, then at me. “Law school,” he said.

Law school?

“Your resume. It has law school written all over it.”

I wasn’t quite sure how to respond to this. I wasn’t actually considering law school, but maybe if my resume was screaming “J.D. J.D.,” I should reconsider?

Then he said, “If I hire you, I’m going to have you sign a 2-year commitment with me. How do you feel about that?”

His tone added a so-there kind of feel. By this point I was sputtering…“Well…I guess…?”

Then he launched into a line by line examination – read: criticism – of my resume and everything that was wrong with. Which was apparently everything. He grills me on my temp job, pointing out how pathetic it is that I don’t have health benefits and what am I doing for long-term savings and I was thinking to myself "dude, this is why I’m interviewing for a real job, duh," but he was basically calling me an idiot to my face and I had ZERO experience with that.

And then he told me how he “takes a personal interest in the day-to-day routines of his employees,” and I began to picture my day: arriving at 8:30, check in with the boss; work work work, boss over my shoulder; lunch break, boss not pleased; bathroom break, ask boss permission first.

It was not a pretty picture.

By the end of my interview it was nearly 1:00 PM and he’d Xed out the majority of my resume, written negative comments all over it, drawn me a chart on the back diagramming his imagined version of the state of my finances, and I was doing my best to hold back tears. Then he told me he was “just trying to help out another Wahoo,” and he “hoped I’d take this as a lesson.”

Of course, now I know it is completely inappropriate for an interviewer – even a CEO – to treat a perspective hiree in such a manner, but at the time I was too young and too shell-shocked to tell him what I really thought of him. Instead, I left in a rush, barely speaking to the friendly HR manager and not looking anyone in the eye. And even though I still believe that everyone else in that office really liked me, that I could’ve been an asset to their team, I can’t say I’m sorry I didn’t get the job.

But, for the record, I never went to law school either.

In which I am on pins and needles

2010-01-14T06:53:00.000-08:00

Well, I just had another interview for a job that I REALLY, REALLY, REALLY REALLY want. A MILLION TIMES WANT. As for the interview itself...well, it could be looked at either way. There was a lot of laughing. I'm just, ah, not totally sure if my interviewers were laughing WITH me or AT me.

Anyway, if I don't get this job, I'm sure I'll convince myself that the whole interview was "terrible" and post the full story here - after I curl into a ball on the floor, sobbing and trying to stave off panic attacks about my life, that is.

If I DO get this job - well, it will be a freaking miracle.

For now, I'll leave you with a little teaser from the interview - a preview, if you will.

[Interviewer]: "What do you look for in a workplace?"

Me: "Well, most of my experience has been in a very collaborative environment. So I really enjoy working with coworkers, together, as part of a team. You know, instead of sitting by myself in a cubicle!" HAR HAR awkward laugh!

[Interviewer]: "Hmm."

Me: "Erm...yes?"

[Interviewer]: "You do realize that for the majority of this job, you would be isolated from the rest of the group, don't you? So...you'll actually be sitting by yourself. In...a cubicle-like situation."

Me: "Oh."

[Interviewer]: "Yeah."

Me, clearing throat: "Hrrrrrpm. Uh, well, I was...just kidding. That's...working alone is...also very enjoyable."

Oh God.

So as you can imagine, I'm on pins and needles, waiting to hear something. Tick tock, tick tock.

In which I discuss vegetables

2010-01-04T05:54:00.000-08:00

HAPPY NEW YEAR, INTERNETS! I can't say that I was sorry to say goodbye to 2009. I'm pretty sure 2009 was only good for Taylor Swift and James Cameron. So sayonara, 2009. S - ah - erm...hello, 2010. (Must go with the American "hello," as Wikipedia tells me that there are over 100 ways to say "hello" in Japanese, something that was not covered in my primary Japanese master class, the 1989 classic "Big Bird in Japan." Best. TV. Movie. Ever.)

Anyway. I'm going to celebrate the promises of 2010 by kicking off with - a brand-new terrible interview story! Hooray!

Brrrrrriiiiing.

Me: "Hello?"

Assistant: "[K]? This is [assistant], I work for [congressman from faraway state]. I'm calling about the press secretary position."

Me: "Erm...the...press secretary position? Oh - oh, of course!"

(I'm getting good at handling the job-I-didn't-apply-for-or-know-anything-about-but-someone-must-have-passed-my-resume-on-without-telling-me-so-hooray phone calls.)

[Assistant]: "Yes, the press secretary position. Can you come in on Friday to meet with us?"

Me: "Yes, of course! Thank you."

An interview! Huzzah. Of course, I've never been to [faraway state] and know, erm, nothing about it, but I can learn! Must research!

So, I come to the interview armed with lots and lots of research. Who cares if I'm not from [faraway state]? I can still do this!

I arrive at the appointed conference room...and no one is there. Naturally.

I wait.

15 minutes later...

[Political guy, who I at first thought was the chief of staff but turned out to be some kind of political operative with a vaguely defined title]: "Hello! Let's get started!"

Me: "Ok, great!"

[Political guy]: "I'm just going to get [other political guy] on the phone; he's in the district right now, but he wants to call in."

Me: "Sounds great."

[Political guy]: Attempts to dial out on phone in conference room. There are several odd beeping noises.

[Political guy]: "Har har, this phone is always tricky! I'll get it to work this time."

15 minutes later...

[Political guy]: "You know what why don't we just go up and do this in my office."

Me: "Sure no problem."

So. I'm now sitting across from [political guy] and talking to [other political guy] on speaker phone.

[Political guy]: "So, what would be your main strategy for increasing awareness of the congressman's agenda?"

Me: Blah blah press coverage blah blah social media blah blah constituents blah.

[Other political guy]: "What do you think are the main problems issues facing the party?"

Me: Blah blah minority party blah blah lack of clear leadership blah new agenda blah.

[Political guy]: "What do you think about the healthcare debate?"

Me: Blah blah want to bleach my eyeballs blah.

[Other political guy]: "What do you know about the state and constituent issues?"

Me: Enthusiastically discuss my extensive research of state issues and suggestions for press coverage thereof.

[Political guy]: "Have you ever actually been to [faraway state]?"

Me: "Well...erm, no. But, I do know quite a bit about state issues, especially energy issues, as I did a lot of work with the state in my last job."

[Other political guy]: "But you've never...actually been there."

Me: "Er - no, not...not in, um, person." What? "I mean, I have not actually traveled there, myself."

[Political guy]: "Right."

Me: "Well, you know, I grew up on the other side of the country, on the East Coast, so, you know, there was...there wasn't really an opportunity..."

Silence from political guys.

Me, clearing throat: "Hrrrrrrrmmm. Erm. Um, actually, funny story, one of my friends from grad school, he lived in [city in faraway state] for a few years, and I remember that while we were in grad school, he actually had a crate of [famous vegetable grown in state] delivered to the newsroom where we were working. So I've actually eaten [famous vegetable grown in state]. Har! Funny, right?"

[Political guy]: "Oh. Right. Well, that's...something."

[Other political guy]: Noncommittal noise over speaker phone.

Me: Swallowing nervously.

[Political guy]: "OK. I'm going to ask you to write a few things for us. A speech, a press release, an op-ed, and some editing. You'll have until next week to turn it back in to me. Does that sound ok?"

Me: "Yes! That sounds great."

[Political guy]: "Alright. Here's the packet; good luck."

Me: "Thank you! Thank you very much!"

I enthusiastically get to work on said interview homework, which turns out to be very extensive and takes many hours, but I work hard! Do lots of research! I've aced it! I know it!

And, of course....I never heard from them again. Not even an "oh hey, thanks for doing all of this work, but we've decided to go with someone else." Just...silence.

Naturally.

In which we have happy holidays

2009-12-22T05:59:00.000-08:00

Yes, internets, I wish you all unbridled joy. And now, since I don't have any money to buy you real presents, my Christmas gift to you is one very short terrible interview story.

I had an interview at a marketing firm, and ended up waiting (naturally) in the lobby/waiting area for awhile. I guess they had had some party, or something, because there were a bunch of sodas in the waiting room, and the receptionist was all, "oh, help yourself, do help yourself!"

"Well, ok," I said, and cracked open a Diet Coke.

Then my interviewer appeared.

"[K]? Great to meet you, let's - IS THAT A BEER?"

Me, glancing alarmingly at my Diet Coke can: "What? No! It's a Diet Coke. From - from your party?"

Interviewer: "OH. OK. I thought it was a beer."

Me: "Erm...no. Diet Coke."

Interviewer: "Great. Let's go."

Anyway, I hope you all have lovely holidays filled with beer, Diet Coke, and Christmas cheer. See you next year!

In which I start getting exasperated, on the inside

2009-12-17T06:30:00.000-08:00

Hello hello hello! After a brief digression, consisting of me pretty much just generally complaining about the job search process (sorry, internets - but come on, IT GETS FRUSTRATING SOMETIMES), today we resume actual terrible interview stories.

Now, this was another one of those interviews where it wasn't all that ridiculous or funny, it was just...not very good.

Anyway - another day, another phone interview with another exec producer of another show on another news network. Yadda yadda yadda, story of my life. Here we go.

[Producer]: "Alright let's get started."

Me: "Great!"

[Producer]: "And I don't have a lot of time, so let's make this quick."

Me: "Erm...ok. Um...will do."

[Producer}: "I see you worked for [X] news network; tell me what you did there."

Me: "Sure. Well..." blah blah news production blah.

[Producer]: "Mmm-hmmm. Well, we're a lot more involved than [X] network here. You've got to understand that."

Me: "Oh! Erm...really?"

[Producer], laughing meanly: "Uh, YEAH. Do you watch the network at all? Yeah."

Me, inwardly: Sir, nobody watches your network. ZING!

Me, for real: "Har hee!" Awkward laugh.

[Producer]: "We do a lot more reporting than what you're probably used to."

Me: "Erm...ok."

[Producer]: "Alright so let me explain how this works. The show is [X] hours and you would associate produce [Y] number of those."

Me: "Oh, so this position doesn't work on the whole show?"

[Producer], in the tone one uses when talking to a small, stupid child: "No. Because. That. Would. Be. Impossible."

Me: "Erm. I see."

[Producer]: "Now, you've got to be able to work fast, react quickly, be able to do eight things at once. Graphics. Scripts. Video. Wires. I have to be able to rely on you. You got it?"

Me: "I got it."

[Producer]: "No. I'm serious. THIS IS SERIOUS. I can't have someone in the control room who'll break down and fall apart. It can't happen. You've gotta be able to take it. If - that's IF - I decide, after this interview, that you've made it to the next round - I don't bring you in for another cushy interview. I bring you on set for a few days to put you through the ringer and see if you've GOT WHAT IT TAKES."

Me, inwardly: Arrrrrgh ok ENOUGH with the "ZOMG DO YOU HAVE WHAT IT TAKES TO DO THE BROADCAST NEWS GAAAAH DO YOU?????" scare tactics already. FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY AND DECENT. I mean, I GET IT. News is CRITICALLY IMPORTANT TO THE WELL-BEING OF THE NATIONAL CONCIOUSNESS and all that. Broadcast news is ZOMG SO FAST-PACED AND CUTTHROAT. But may I remind you that we are not PERFORMING EMERGENCY SURGERY ON AN OPERATING TABLE. We are not PULLING ORPHANS FROM A SIX-ALARM FIRE. We are not STORMING GUERILLA COMPOUNDS TO RESCUE PEACE ACTIVISTS FROM CERTAIN DEATH IN WAR-RAVAGED COUNTRIES. Good gravy, we are just PUTTING ON A FEW HOURS OF TELEVISION NEWS each day, half of which usually turns out to be WRONG ANYWAY. So FOR ONCE, could somebody SPARE ME the self-important "ZOMG IT'S SOO HAAAAAAAAARD GAAAAAAAAAAAH" lecture PLEASE.

Me, for real: "Sounds great."

[Producer]: "Yeah I bet."

Me: Sigh.

[Producer]: "Now tell me what news shows you like."

Me: "Well, I have to say, my favorite is [X] show on [competing network]. I think the format and structure of the show is very clear, and that works best for me. But I also watch [Y] show on [network for which I am interviewing] on a regular basis."

[Producer]: "And what shows do you like graphically?"

Me: "I'm...pardon?"

[Producer]: "GRAPHICALLY. WHAT SHOWS. HAVE. GRAPHICS. THAT. YOU. LIKE."

Me, inwardly: Oh gosh, I...have never really noticed graphics except on [network for which I am interviewing], because that's...kind of their schtick.

Me, for real: "Well, I honestly think [show for which I am interviewing] does the best job with graphics. It's so innovative. And also [Z] show on [network for which I am interviewing] seems to make an effort to really incorporate graphics into - "

[Producer], sneering: "OK I'll stop you there. Are they any shows that AREN'T on [network for which I am interviewing] where you like the graphics? Or are you just listing shows on [network for which I am interviewing] to suck up?"

Me: "Erm."

[Producer]: "Yeah?"

Me: "Um...well, to be...to be honest, your network seems really into graphics and I don't think that...I don't think the other networks really...um, care. Much."

[Producer]: Silence.

Me: "Oh gosh, it's just - I guess I just don't really pay much attention to the graphics on the other shows, because they're not - they're generally more of a background, uh, accompaniment, rather than a feature. Which - I don't mean - of course I'm not saying that that's the way it should be - I just...I mean, I think it's great, what you all do with graphics, and, and...um..."

[Producer]: "Alright well I'm out of time."

Me: "Oh! Erm...ok."

[Producer]: "Thanks."

Me: "Thank - thank you! Thanks."

Click.

In which I am ignored, for the 483290784th time

2009-12-14T12:15:00.000-08:00

Another day, another job possibility slowly crumbling into dust and drifing away on the winds.

Ugh. OK. Now, just...OK. I don't even really...argh. Am too frustrated to even type. OK. Here's the situation.

I recently had a phone interview with a certain company. And then I traveled to another city on my own dime (and my dimes, internets, are few and far between) to have a second, in-person interview with said company.

"Well, we are DEFINITELY going to make a decision by the end of [X] week," said the company. "We're moving fast because we're going to need this person to start absolutely no later than [Y] date. OK? Is that a problem for you?"

"No! Definitely not!" I said, ignoring the fact that the logistics of such a schedule did, in fact, present a lot of problems, not least because I don't actually live in the city where the job is...but WHATEVER, IT IS A JOB POSSIBILITY.

Then said company asked for my references. "Of course I'll give you references!" I chirped happily.

THEN, said company actually CONTACTED one of my references about setting up a call to chat. ABOUT ME.

"HOORAY!" I said when I heard this from said reference. "DOUBLE HOORAY! THIS MAY ACTUALLY WORK OUT AND PUT AN END TO THE HORRID, HORRIBLE YEAR KNOWN AS 2009!"

And then...nothing. The call was never scheduled, and my lovely reference can't even get a hold of this company to find out what's going on. And my other references never heard at ALL from said company.

And I am being, as usual, COMPLETELY IGNORED.

Oh, AND, [X] week has come and gone and [Y] start date is, oh, approximately a week away.

Now. I'm not delusional, internets. I know there are a lot of people applying for jobs out there, and I don't expect to hear back from anyone when I apply for anything. I don't even expect to hear back after having one interview.

But is it SO MUCH TO ASK, after I've had TWO INTERVIEWS, ONE OF WHICH involved me TRAVELING to get to said company, and after MY REFERENCE HAS BEEN CONTACTED, for someone to at least LET ME KNOW if they've decided NOT TO HIRE ME?

Is that so much to ask? IS IT??????????

Aaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgh.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go stick my hand in a jar of acid because IT PROBABLY WON'T BE AS PAINFUL AS THIS EXPERIENCE.

In which I get TWO stories from ONE interview

2009-12-05T13:16:00.000-08:00

OH MY GOD, you guys. I just had another interview and I've gotten not one but TWO crazy stories from it. One is about the interview itself...and the other is about what happened afterward.

Hmm, maybe I should divide them into two posts, stretch out the excitement...kind of how they're dividing the last Harry Potter book into two movies, except honestly they could just cut out like 90% of the stupid stuff about the deathly hallows and wandering around in the woods for 70 pages and be left with a single movie under two hours and I'd be fine. But I digress.

Anyway...no. I'm WAY TOO EXCITED, must post everything now.

Alright, so first off...the interview. It was at a very hip and trendy New York PR firm. I can state with certainty that I am absolutely not cool enough to work there. I walk in, and the whole thing is one giant room, with exposed brick walls and hardwood floors and giant vintage 50s advertisements for things like toothpaste hanging everywhere and some weird African mask hanging in the corner and fancy throw rugs and armless chairs, and all of the desks are super-chic clear glass desks all lined up in rows.

So. I slowly walk inside, and...there's no one in the room. Hmm.

"[K]?" says some lady appearing suddenly from behind an African mask.

"Gah! I mean...yes! Hello!" I say.

"Just have a seat, everyone's finishing up a meeting in the conference room, they'll be right with you."

"Ok, great. Thanks," I say, and sit down and wait. La la la.

Ten minutes later, about 15 people come out of the conference room and walk immediately over to a stereo set up in the middle of the room. All of a sudden I hear Mariah Carey belting out "All I Want For Christmas Is You" and...EVERYONE IN THE OFFICE STARTS DANCING.

IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROOM.

TO MARIAH CAREY CHRISTMAS MUSIC.

Erm....hmmm.

Ah...not really sure what I'm supposed to do, at this point. Should I...get up and dance too? Is this, like, some kind of New-York-PR-hip-and-trendy litmus test? The thing is that if I actually worked here, I'd probably be LEADING the Mariah Carey Christmas dance party, but...I don't actually work here. Soo...I guess I'll continue to sit in the corner.

This is awkward.

Hmmm.

Finally, some guy spots me, mid-twirl, and says, "Oh you must be [K]! Ok let's get started." And he pulls four people out from the dance circle and we all go into a conference room.

"Well, you probably didn't have dance parties to Mariah Carey in your last job!" says one of the interviewers as we sit down.

"Har...err, no! Haha!" I say.

And then we proceeded to have a perfectly normal interview.

Oh, except at the end, when one of the other interviewers was all, "ok we'll need references, and writing samples, oh and we need to do a credit check."

"Oh," I say. "Sure."

"I'M JUST KIDDING! HAAA! GOT YOU!" says the interviewer. "No credit check!"

"Oh har hee hee!" I say, awkwardly. Sheesh.

OK.

NOW, the after-story. Since I do not actually live in New York City, after the interview, I headed to catch my bus home. After I got to eat a delicious slice of New York pizza with one of my besties, Susan, that is. Yum. Anyway...I board my old friend the BoltBus.

Now, normally, I LOVE BOLTBUS. It is amazing. It's like 10 bucks and not sketchy and filled with mostly college kids and people in their 20s and the driver is usually witty and makes funny jokes when we pull out of the station.

So. I sit down, some guy sits down next to me because it's a full bus, the bus takes off and I'm reading and not really paying much attention to anything else. Then the guy takes out his cell phone and starts yapping away in a Middle-Eastern-sounding accent that I can't quite identify.

Eh, whatever. Being of the cell-phone generation and also generally relying on public transportation to go anywhere, I can usually tune these people out, even when they're yapping RIGHT IN MY EAR.

But once I started listening to this guy, I just...could not stop. And NOW COMES THE AWESOMENESS.

The following is an actual transcript of the guy's end of this conversation. And I know it's an actual transcript because after about 20 seconds of listening to this dude, I was all "GOOD GRAVY I HAVE GOT TO WRITE THIS DOWN." Which I did, surreptitiously, on the back of a copy of my resume. I KNEW it would be handy to carry that around with me.

Oh, and for your background information, he's talking to his girlfriend. I mean, I assume.

OK. HERE WE GO.

[Bus Guy]: "No. No, baby, I am not giving you my password."

Pause.

"Because it is a private thing. If you have my password, then you will be able to read my email and that is a private thing."

Pause.

"But I don't WANT to read your email. You should not want me to read your email because it's private for you."

Pause.

"NO I'M NOT HIDING ANYTHING. For you to have my password, it is not right. My email, it is private."

Pause.

"Baby. No. This is a privacy issue and I am done talking about this. No. No...no, done. DONE. I AM DONE."

Pause...and then he mumbled something that I couldn't hear, because I got distracted by the girl sitting in front of us who started having some kind of meltdown and was crying to her husband sitting next to her, and the husband looked like he wanted to be sitting anywhere in the world except on this bus, next to his hysterical wife. She was hiccuping between sobs, and I all could make out were "my elementary school is really important to me" and "father doesn't understand" and "I FEEL LIKE AN IDIOT" before I realized the guy next to me was still on the phone and then was all "whoops I have to keep writing this down" and went back to listening to him.

[Bus guy]: "No, you're always going to the bar after class with them."

Pause.

"No, that's your responsibility to ask me to come, you go like three or four times a week."

Pause.

"Well he should ask her to go out for a coffee so he can actually speak with her and find out if she's smart. The bar is not the place for that."

Pause.

"That's what I did with you. When I first saw you, I was like, 'oh, look at the cute girl.' I didn't realize you were smart, because you didn't say a f*cking word."

Pause.

"I only realized you were smart later. After I asked you out for a coffee."

Pause.

"Yeah, I like the job better. It's better to get to stretch my legs instead of being crammed around a table."

Pause.

"I know, thanks to the Palestinian intifada...FINALLY."

Me, inwardly: Ermmmm?

"That is ridiculous, what are they asking you for?"

Pause.

"HA. I AM against genocide. Why should I have to sign a paper that says I'm against genocide?"

Pause.

"If I were you, I would say that I am against the ones that promote being against genocide. And that's why I killed them."

Me, inwardly: ERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRM WTF IS HAPPENING HERE.

[Annoyingly high-pitch laugh]: "It is just ridiculous, how can you be AGAINST genocide?"

Alright, as this point, he veers off into a discussion of global genocide that was actually rather intelligent and not really something to make fun of, so I will skip over that part and go straight to...THIS PART.

"Ok, baby. I must go soon...will you be faithful to me until I see you again?"

Pause.

"I don't know...I just want to check."

Pause.

"Will you please?"

Pause.

"Alright alright alright. OK."

Me, feeling kind of sorry for him. I mean, sheesh. Until...

"Maybe I should buy you that metal underwear. You know, that kind that locks and you cannot get it off."

Pause.

"Well what about rubber?"

Me: Starting to feel awkward.

"Hmmm, or maybe just some sexy lingerie."

Pause.

"Why don't you talk to me about that thing."

Pause.

"You know...that thing that you wanted to have fun with."

Me: OK REALLY AWKWARD NOW.

"Yeah I want to talk about it now. RIGHT NOW. I hope you have it with you."

OOOOOK. This had all been fun and amusing for awhile but GOOD GRAVY THIS CONVERSATION HAS TO STOP. RIGHT NOW. So at this point, I may or may not have slammed my pen down and given this dude a look that said something to the effect of "DUDE ARE YOU SERIOUSLY ABOUT TO DO THIS ON THE BOLTBUS BECAUSE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, I WILL NOT BE ABLE TO DROWN THIS OUT NO MATTER HOW L0UDLY I PLAY MY IPOD."

I think he got the message, because he sort of turned away and talked in a really, really low voice for the rest of the conversation. Later, I had to shove him to the side after he fell asleep ON MY ARM.

So. In conclusion...I still love BoltBus.

In which I digress from interview stories

2009-12-03T13:55:00.000-08:00

I actually didn't have to time write up an interview story today - sorry, sorry sorry - but I did want to share a small tidbit from my day at my temporary job:

Today, when I got on the elevator, the man riding the elevator with me was all, "what floor?" and I was all, "15, please," and when I glanced at him I realized he was wearing a leather jacket with...

wait for it...

waaaaaait for it...

...a rabbit's foot attached to the breast pocket. A rabbit's foot, dangling down his chest.

A RABBIT'S FOOT.

The last time I even SAW a rabbit's foot was circa 1993 so this made me VERY EXCITED.

So naturally, I said, "I like your rabbit's foot." And the man looked at me like I was a crazy lady who talks to strangers in elevators.

So it was kind of like having a terrible interview, no?

But to you, rabbit's-foot-touting-man, I say: IF YOU ARE OPENLY SPORTING A RABBIT'S FOOT ON YOUR JACKET, IN A PUBLIC ARENA, YOU SHOULD EXPECT COMMENTS FROM STRANGERS.

THAT IS ALL I'M SAYING.

Alright. We will return with more terrible interview stories in the next post.

In which I got the blues

2009-12-02T05:57:00.000-08:00

Ugggggh. Internets. I don't even have the heart to write up a terrible interview story today. I'm currently being ignored by another company that I really really really REALLY want to work for and I am feeling looooooooooow. If I could play the guitar and had a raspy voice, I'd head to a smoky bar and sing the blues.

I got the bluuuuuues.
I got the bluuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuueeeeeeeeeeeeeees.
I got the "all I want is a full-time job that can allow me to pay my rent and my loans without going into massive debt and ideally for people to be sort of nice to me in interviews or at least stop blatantly ignorning me after multiple interviews but at this point I'd just take the full-time job regardless of how I'm treated" bluuuuuuuuuuuuueeeeeeeeeeeees.

I GOT THE...BLUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEES.

Thank you, thank you very much. I'll be here all week. Tip your waitress.

In which the guest blogger throws the interview

2009-11-30T05:53:00.001-08:00

Goooooooood morning internets! I hope you're all stuffed with delicious food and have had lots of sleep over the holiday - with the exception of my friends in the news business, in which case - holidays? What are those?

Anyway, today we kick off the week with another appearance from my friend "Jack." This is the second of Jack's excellent terrible interview stories.

A few years ago, Jack went in to interview with an EXTREMELY prestigious organization. And I mean, like, PRESTIGIOUS. It was a BIG DEAL. The BIG TIME. So naturally, Jack was very excited to have this opportunity.

So, Jack walks into his interviewer's office, all psyched up and READY TO GO, and meets his interviewer. And immediately realizes that something is...off. But what? What is it?

Oh. The man...has his JAW WIRED SHUT.

"Huh," thinks Jack. "That's...awkward. Well, I guess it...happens. Surely he'll make some kind of joke about it and we'll get on with this interview."

And...no. The man DID NOT ACKNOWLEDGE the fact that his JAW WAS WIRED SHUT. He DID NOT EVEN MENTION IT. And if you've ever met anyone with their jaw wired shut, you'll know that THEY CAN'T REALLY TALK and are reduced to making WHISTLING AND GRUNTING SOUNDS instead of actual words.

So. Jack is forced to sit through 30 minutes of awkward, grunting questions from the man with the jaw wired shut. During these 30 minutes, Jack realizes that the man is crazy and that he does not, under any circumstances, want to work for him.

The trouble is, though, that generally, at this organization, if you are offered a job and you turn it down, you are pretty much blacklisted from any other openings. Which Jack did not want.

"Gaaaah," thinks Jack. "What to do? WHAT TO DO?"

And then, it dawns on him. If he doesn't GET a job offer, he won't HAVE to turn it down, and will be free to interview for any other fabulous positions at said organization.

So. Jack realizes he must...THROW THE INTERVIEW.

DUN DUN DUUUUUUUUUUNNNNNN.

"Srrrrroooooo," says man with jaw wired shut. "Durrrrrr yurrrrrr harve arnnnnnnny werknerrrssssssessssss? Warrrrrrrrrrt ssss brrrrggrrst werknssssss?"

[Translation: "So, do you have any weaknesses? What is your biggest weakness?" How Jack managed to understand any of this is a mystery.]

"Erm..." says Jack. "I....I...."

"Yssssss?" says the man with the jaw wired shut.

"I...I have a dog-like need for approval," says Jack.

Silence from the man with his jaw wired shut.

Needless to say, he did not call Jack back. Whether this is because Jack succesfully bombed the interview, or because he could not utter enough coherent words to make a phone call, remains unclear.

But anyway, Jack's plan worked, as he did not have to turn down said job, and ended up getting another awesome job within said organization, and lived happily ever after.

Hooray!

In which we have a guest blogger

2009-11-25T06:44:00.000-08:00

Hello hello hello! Today we have another visitor to the Terrible Interviews blog - my friend "Jack." Say hello to Jack! Jack actually has TWO terrible interview stories to share, and they're both so good that I'm posting them one at a time.

Anyway - enjoy! And happy Thanksgiving!
Gobble gobble gobble gobble gobble gobble.

"Jack's" story:

I was interviewing once for a political job--my first out of college. I was bright-eyed and bushy tailed, with visions of earning money and working 40 hours a week and marrying my girlfriend.

(Note from [K]: Holy cats. If only every guy I met had the same visions. Sigh. Anyway...back to Jack.)

I get to the interview, where I am interviewed by two people.

[Interviewer #1]: "So...what is the LEAST amount of money you could live on?"

Me: Awkwardly smiling. And squirming. And adding things in my head like rent, food, gas. "Welp...probably $1,500 a month."

[Interviewer #1]: "Oh. Okay. We really don't have money to pay you."

Me: Still awkwardly smiling.

[Interviewer #1]: "The money you earn as a salary is money we can't spend on the candidates. With the money we spend on your salary, we could buy roadsigns, or pay for phone banks. E.g....if you're padding that number at all..."

Me, inwardly: And I am...

[Interviewer #1]: "You're putting Missouri's political future at risk."

[Interviewer #2]: "And how many hours can you work in a month? I mean, literally, how many hours?"

Me, awkwardly laughing and more squirming: "Oh! I don't know! Let me think here. Probably about...300."

Me, inwardly: Quickly performing calculations in my head - this means I'll earn $5 an hour. I've...never earned that little. Even when I was a sophomore in high school.

[Interviewer #1]: "And are you dating anyone?"

Me, inwardly: Good gracious. Where is this leading?

Me, for real: "Um, yes. I have a great girlfriend named [Jehosophat]. We've known each other for about 18 months now."

[Interviewer #2]: "Oh. Well, this job will probably break you up."

Me: Silence.

[Interviewer #2]: "Most people who've had this job before with a girlfriend usually don't make it. Its probably best if you start single."

Me: "Right! Perfect. Thanks! Makes sense!"

And then "Jack" got the hell out of there.

In which the interview is just terrible

2009-11-24T05:29:00.001-08:00

Uggggh. This interview I'm about to describe was one of those interviews where it wasn't even all that funny, or unbelievable, or ridiculous. It was just...not good. An actual terrible interview. I may or may not have cried afterwards.

Alas, I will tell the story anyway. It is a short one.

I got a call OUT OF NOWHERE to come and interview for a political organization. And when I say out of nowhere, I mean OUT OF NOWHERE. The call went something like this:

Me: "Hello?"
[Caller]: "Hello, [K]?"
Me: "Yes?"
[Caller]: "This is [caller] calling from [political organization]."
Me: "Ah...well hello, there."
[Caller]: "I'm calling about the job opening?"
Me: "Oh! The...job opening?"
[Caller]: "Yes. We recieved your resume about the press opening?"
Me: "Erm...really?"
[Caller]: "Uh...yes?"
Me: "Erm...I mean...oh, THAT press opening! Um, yes! Great!"
[Caller]: "OK, great, we'd like you to come in tomorrow, I'll send you an email with more details - bye!"

Click.

WHAT?

Sooo...I had essentially no idea what I'm about to interview for, and did not want to appear like an idiot by saying, "erm, could you just...remind me what this job is again?" But thankfully the "email with more details" included, at least, a job title, from which I could somewhat infer what the job actually was.

It turned about to be a press job focusing on healthcare legislation. Hmmm.

Nevertheless, I was excited because YAY JOB INTERVIEW. I have virtually no healthcare experience, but I figured that this interview came about from one of the many wonderful wonderful friends of mine who have been passing my resume around to various people and places, and it sounded like a good job to me, so I studied studied studied up on healthcare issues and was raring to go. Besides, they wouldn't have called me if they didn't like my resume, right? Right!

I arrive at said political organization and meet with two men - one a nice, older gentleman who kindly pulls my chair out for me when I go to sit down; and one a younger, arrogant, beefy-looking jerkface. ASSHAT JERKFACE.

[Older Gentleman]: "Very pleased to me you!"

Me: "Thank you, it's nice to meet both of you! Thanks for having me!"

[Jerkface]: "Yeah."

Me, inwardly: Oh, boy.

[Jerkface]: "So what do you know about Wyoming?"

Me: "Pardon?"

[Jerkface]: "WHAT. DO. YOU. KNOW. ABOUT. WYOMING."

Me, inwardly: Oh. I forgot that there is a connection to Wyoming in this organzation. Although this job in particular has very little to do with Wyoming, I STILL RESEARCHED IT ANYWAY. SO THERE.

Me: "Oh, well let's see.." blah blah interesting facts about Wyoming and how it relates to said organization blah blah.

[Jerkface]: "Hmmm."

Me: Nervous silence.

[Older gentleman]: Smiles kindly.

[Jerkface]: "I see you worked in the energy sector."

Me: "Yes. I did indeed."

[Jerkface]: "Talk to me about energy."

Me, inwardly: Ugh. Once again...I know where this is going. EVERYONE THINKS THEY ARE A FREAKING ENERGY EXPERT JUST BECAUSE THEY SAW AL GORE'S POWERPOINT SLIDEHOW MOVIE. ARGH.

Me, for real: "Sure! I worked on..." blah blah energy blah.

[Jerkface]: "Mmm-hmmm. Well, you're not really selling me on this."

Me: "I...pardon?"

[Jerkface]: "You know this is a press job, right? You know that you have to be able to sell a story, right?"

Me: "Uh...yes."

[Jerkface]: "So, yeah."

Me: "Erm...I'm sorry, I wasn't...I should say, I was just describing what I worked on, I didn't realize you wanted me to pitch- "

[Jerkface]: "I see from your resume that you have no healthcare experience."

Me: "Erm. Yes, that is correct, but- "

[Jerkface]: "You know this position deals primarily with healthcare, right?"

Me: "Yes, I- "

[Jerkface]: "Why did you send your resume in if you don't have a healthcare background?"

Me: "Well, I - I didn't. You...you guys actually called me."

[Jerkface]: "I suppose you don't really understand how [political entity] works, either, since I can see that you haven't worked there previously?"

Me: "Well, not specifically in [political entity], but I worked in [similar political entity] and - "

[Jerkface]: "Yeah well it's different here."

Me: "Well...ok."

[Jerkface]: "OK yeah thanks for coming in."

Me: "Um...thanks."

End of interview. I cry on walk home. A little. OK maybe more than a little.

But honestly, to all of you jerkface interviewers out there, I AM JUST TRYING TO GET A JOB. Why must you be mean to me in interviews? WHY? WHYYYYYY. I do not see the point in being a jerkface. Am I INSULTING you somehow by coming in for an interview? Do you simply want to assert your smug superiority because you are employed and I am not?

Believe me, you DO NOT NEED TO HUMILIATE ME. I am already feeling COMPLETELY HUMILIATED and CANNOT BE KNOCKED DOWN ANY MORE PEGS THAN I ALREADY HAVE BEEN. I am OUT OF PEGS to be KNOCKED DOWN.

GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH.

In conclusion...if I ever run into Mr. Asshat Jerkface in a bar, I'm...I'm...going to get someone a lot bigger than me - and who's also a boy - to punch him in the face while I hide at the other end of the bar. So WATCH OUT.

In which the posting lies about the salary

2009-11-23T05:47:00.000-08:00

Good morning, internets! Today's terrible interview story comes courtesy of my good friend "Betty," in which she travels a long, long way for a job interview only to find out that her interviewers are dirty liars. Read on!

Hello! To set the scene: I was somewhat lucky getting out of college; I landed the first job I applied for that I actually wanted. This was a marketing job at a VERY well-known venue, where I was the right-hand-lady to the director of marketing. The pay was decent and was an excellent first job, but it was entry level. I began to feel I was hitting a dead end after about two years, and I wanted a better title for my resume.

Oh - and did I mention that my boyfriend still lived in a southern state that was ten driving hours away and I desperately wanted to move down there? Little did I know how difficult the interviewing process could REALLLLLY be.

One of the most challenging things about trying to find a job in another part of the country is the inability to have interviewers take your interest seriously. When I began searching, I must have applied for a dozen jobs that I was OVER-qualified for. I wrote excellent cover letters about my experience and skills. And I never heard from any of these companies because people didn't want to bother with someone so far away.

It happened upon a beautiful spring Monday on Indeed.com: "MARKETING AND EVENTS MANAGER FOR [RADIO COMPANY] IN [CITY 70 MILES FROM BOYFRIEND]."

OH THE GLEE I felt when I read this headline. And it got better! I was QUALIFIED! Minimum 2 years experience in Marketing and Event Planning (CHECK!), Willingness to work nights and weekends as necessary (CHECK!), Same Salary I was making at the time! AWESOME! I know "Same Salary" doesn't sound too appealing, but it was definitely a raise when you considered the difference in cost of living and the obvious money savings from no longer buying plane tickets every other month. This job was everything I could ask for. JACKPOT.

Even though I was at work, I closed my office door, put my phone on Do Not Disturb and began primping my standard cover letter for this position. My event planning experience - sooooo much to tell! In the introduction, I even mentioned that I was willing to relocated at my own expense. Oh, and that I was planning on traveling down to [CITY] that very weekend to spend Easter with my family in the area. (Lies, such lies.) I would be more than happy to stop in on Friday!

I swear my cell phone rang 20 minutes after I hit SUBMIT APPLICATION. Wow. [CITY] area code! I gather myself for a moment then answer...breezy. Sooo breezy.

Me: "Hello, this is Betty."
[Interviewer]: "Hello Betty! My name is [Interviewer]. You expressed interest in a position with [Radio Company] and I was very excited to see your resume and read about your current position. Are you available to chat right now?"
Me: "Actually, I'm at work - I could talk around lunch time, if you're available..."
[Interviewer]: "Absolutely! Can I call you around 12:30?"
Me: "Sure thing!"

Obviously, I only said I was at work to buy some extra prep time. At this point, I pull out a pad of paper and start mapping out ALL of my event management skills. I make a list of every potential question he could ask. I do my online research about the company. Ooooh, [Radio Company] owns sooo many stations in [my current city]! I don't listen to a single one of them because they are terrible. Better read up!

12:30 Rolls Around. Office door is shut. Phone is on Do Not Disturb. Fresh bottle of water by my side. I clear my throat a few times and give myself a "Jack Donaghy from 30 Rock" pep talk: You are awesome. You're better than awesome, you're F-ing Betty. You can easily land this job. Simple. Y ou would make [CITY] your bitch! You'll eat this interviewer for----

Cell rings. It's him! IT'S HIM!!!

Me: "Hello this is Betty."
[Interviewer]: "Good afternoon Betty! Is this a good time?"
Me: "Sure!"
[Interviewer]: "Wonderful. So I can see from your resume that".....blah blah blah.

30 Minutes of excellent discussion later:

[Interviewer]: "Well, if you can come down I would definitely love to meet you. You said you will be visiting your family in [CITY] for Easter this weekend?"
Me: "Yes! I am coming down Thursday night and could come in Friday if that works."
[Interviewer]: "Yes that does work! Can you come in around 11am?"
Me: "Sure!"
[Interviewer]: "One last thing before we hang up...I can see from your cover letter that your current salary is $___. Are you aware of what this position would pay? It would be a lateral move. I just want to make sure you are comfortable with that."
Me: "Definitely. As long as I'm making the same salary, I will be fine. It's cheaper to live down there than it is here."
[Interviewer]: "Excellent! See you Friday. I am very excited to meet you! Have a nice trip down!"

I have an interview in [CITY] 3 days. Don't even know how I am getting there. Panic time.

----

Friday morning at 11:00am. I am in my new suit in [CITY]. I had taken a $250 13-hour train ride the day before. My aunt drops me off at [Radio Station]. I walk in and get my 'Visitor' nametag. After about 10 minutes of sitting in the waiting room, a man enters. He is dressed like he is going on a jungle safari. Behind him is a young attractive girl in a suit. He shakes her hand and says he'll be in touch. Weird. She is obviously also there interviewing for the same position. Couldn't jungle safari interviewer have scheduled us a little further apart?

[Interviewer]: "Betty?"
Me: "Hello!"
[Interviewer]: "Nice to meet you! Come on back."

I get a tour of the radio station and he takes me to a conference room. He interviews me. It is pretty standard discussion, but about 20 minutes in I realize that I am definitely over-qualified for this job. I'm sure they are just taking advantage of the recession and high unemployment when they ask for two years experience. This could easily be entry level.

I do not care. It has "Manager" in the title and it is an hour from my boyfriend.

Jungle safari interviewer is wrapping up. We have discussed the timeline of how long it would take me to move and how much notice I had to give my current boss.

[Interviewer]: "And you are aware of the salary, correct?"
Me: "Yes. It was on the posting. It is literally my same salary, but I am fine with that."
[Interviwer]: "Right. But you said you didn't mind because it was cheaper to live here."
Me (confused inquisitive look): "Yes. Which is why I would not expect to make MORE than I make at my current job, even though I have the experience."
[Interviewer]: "Yeahhhhh. But it is cheaper to live down here. You said so yourself. You said you didn't mind a paycut."
Me: (What Planet Are You From Look): "Ummm...are you saying that the posting had inaccurate salary information?"
[Interviewer]: "Well, this is radio. Its not lke your current job with endless budgets. The salary I am offering is $___." ($10k less than my current salary- also $10k less than what was posted.)
Me: (Stunned Look): "Wow. Thats...low. Really low. I can't live on that."
[Interviewer]: "Oh. Well you said on the phone that this wouldn't be a problem."
Me: "I was referring to the POSTED AMOUNT."
[Interviewer]: "Soooo.....?"
Me: "Well...it was nice meeting you. I guess we're done here."

It was DEFINITELY the most awkward end to an interview ever. He walked me out but neither of us spoke except for an awkward goodbye, nice meeting you, good luck. What I was really thinking was, "Have fun on your jungle safari, weirdo. I hope you get eaten by a tiger."

And I meant it. Who lies about a salary on a job posting?

Do you have a terrible interview story?

2009-11-19T11:38:00.001-08:00

Internets, I'm sad to inform you that one of these days I am going to run out of interview stories to tell. But - oh no, don't cry, it's - oh, gosh, ok well I'll wait while you pull yourself together.

OK? Everyone good? Well, I will eventually run out of stories - you know, when I finally get a job, so in about, oh, 73 years - BUT it doesn't mean that the hilarious and terrible tales have to end!

Do YOU have a terrible interview story that you would like to share with the TENS OF PEOPLE who read this blog EVERY DAY? You do? HOORAY.

Let me know and I will post it here. I will even write it for you if you don't feel like doing it yourself. Oh yes. I have time on my hands, friends.

So. Think about it. Let me know. Tell your own terrible interview stories, and watch as all of your wildest dreams come true.

Erm...that is, if your wildest dream is to appear on...this blog.

In which my interviewer has no idea who I am

2009-11-18T06:21:00.000-08:00

So. Have you ever gone into an interview and had the sneaking suspicion that your interviewer has no idea who you are? Like, you know, he was really hassled that morning and didn't have time to get any coffee and he's kind of got a lot on his mind and sort of forgot that you were supposed to be coming in for an interview, and then all of a sudden you show up in the doorway of his office and he's all, "Oh! Hey...hey, uh, you! Who...I mean, do you, uh, have a copy of your resume? Because I don't, uh, have - have it on me. Yeah."

And then, because you are an interview PRO at this point and DO have MULTIPLE copies of your resume, you pass it over to him, and he tries to act like he's just skimming it, but you can tell that he's really trying to read it intently because he STILL HAS NO IDEA WHO YOU ARE?

And then he says "Soo...I, uh, I'm not really sure what to ask you, because I, well - I sort of forgot you were coming in today."

And you say, "Oh! Um...well, I...I guess I'll just tell you about my background, and why, um...why I might be good for this - this job," and you awkwardly talk about yourself for ten minutes?

And then, of all the things you mentioned, for some reason he latches onto the fact that you once used a Canon ZR900 digital camera, and he asks you 15 questions about various Cannon models and whether he should buy one?

And then he thanks you for coming in, and then you never hear from him again?

Anyone? No? Just me?

Super.

AND TO MAKE MATTERS WORSE, in retrospect, he looked a lot like this creepy man.

And that makes me shudder because that is the SCARIEST COMMERCIAL I HAVE EVER SEEN. I want to tell that women to RUN FOR HER LIFE because her boyfriend is an AXE MURDERER who has probably already taken the battery out of her car and cut all the phone lines to their mountain cabin.

I don't care what kind of necklace he gives you, lady, it's NOT WORTH IT.

In which my interviewer tells me about her dating past

2009-11-16T05:53:00.001-08:00

Gooooooood morning internets! Sorry for the weeklong delay in posting. Sorry sorry sorry. But we are BACK with a brand-new terrible interview story.

Now, I was holding off on posting this one, because I thought I actually had a decent shot at landing this job, because I came in twice and met everybody and they were all "well this is just GREAT when can you start?" and I was all "oooh immediately! IMMEDIATELY!"

And then I never heard from them again.

So. I guess now I can blog about it. Yay, silver lining.

Alright, so this job was a press job at an, erm...controversial organization, if you will. I won't get into specifics, but let's just say, had I gotten the job, I probably would have alienated, ah, roughly half of my friends. And half of America, maybe. But WHATEVER, I NEED A JORB, PEOPLE.

So.

Due to a variety of weird timing and scheduling issues, I ended up having to meet my interviewer, a lady who would have been my boss, at a cafe on a Saturday afternoon at 2 p.m.

I show up at said cafe at 1:50.

"I'm a little early," I think, "so I'll just wait for a bit."

La la la, waiting.

2:15. Hmm. Not here yet. Fine, no problem, just keep waiting.

2:30. Uggggh. Really? It is just me, or do I always end up waiting for these people? Is any interviewer capable of showing up on time? ANYONE?

2:45. Nothing.

2:50. OMG MAYBE I HAVE THE WRONG CAFE. Oh my gosh. Must call and find out.

[Interviewer lady]: "Hello?"

Me: "Erm, hello, hi, this is [K], I was just calling to check that I, um, had the right time for us to- "

[Lady]: "Yeah I was just going to call you. I'm just finishing up a photo shoot with [head of company]. I'll be there in 20 minutes."

Me: "OK, great! See you then."

Click.

I wait for 20 minutes...plus another 30 after that until [lady] finally arrives. Hooray.

[Lady]: "OK," she says. "Let's get started."

Blah blah standard interview stuff blah blah.

[Lady]: "Oh, I see that you have some radio experience - I started out in radio."

Me: "Oh, really?"

[Lady]: "Yep, and later on I worked for [famous radio host] for awhile."

Me: "Oh wow, I love [famous radio host]!"

[Lady]: "Well, she's no fun to work for, let me tell you."

Me: "Really? Why not?"

[Lady]: "I mean, I started producing for her, and then she would want me to do stuff like...run errands for her, and hire painters to paint her living room."

Me: "She did?"

[Lady]: "Yeah, and then when she didn't like the painters I hired, she wanted me to paint it myself."

Me: "Woah."

[Lady]: "Yeah. This guy I was engaged to at the time kept telling me, you know, that's not normal."

Me: "Haha. Well, no, I would think not."

[Lady]: "Anyway. I see here that you worked on a documentary?"

Me: "Oh, yes! I did, it was for PBS and it was about the civil rights movement in Virgina. Actually, it aired this year."

[Lady]: "That's great, I actually used to work on documentaries for the History Channel and the Travel Channel."

Me: "Oh, wow. That must have been amazing."

[Lady]: "Yeah." Pauses. "Let's watch a trailer!"

Pulls out laptop and starts loading trailer.

Me: "Oh...ok! Great! Sure!"

So, we watch the trailer for this documentary she worked on. At one point the trailer shows a cute little old couple sitting side-by-side on a park bench.

Me: "Aww. They look like a nice couple."

[Lady]: "Yeah."

Long pause.

[Lady]: "Do you think that people really can stay together forever?"

Me: "Erm."

[Lady]: Watching me intently.

Me: "Erm...I...yes, I think so. Um, if you're - if you're lucky, I guess."

[Lady]: "Yeah." Pauses again. "I'm on my way to visit my boyfriend later. He lives in [nearby city]."

Me: "Oh! Um, well, that's - that's nice, that's not so far away."

[Lady]: "It's not, although it does get a little annoying."

Me: "Ah. Well, yes, I suppose it would."

[Lady]: Staring dreamily off into space.

Me: "Erm...well, maybe someday he'll move here, so you won't have to keep going back and forth."

[Lady]: "Yeah, because I hate moving. This other guy that I was engaged to..."

Me, inwardly: Ah...two engagements? Did I hear that right?

[Lady]: "We moved in together, and we did it the best way ever. I hired people to pack for me and then unpack for me. We got to the new apartment that night and it was like we had lived there for a year."

Me: "Erm..."

[Lady]: More dreamy silence.

Me: "Ha, that's - that's definitely the way to move!"

[Lady]: "Yeah. Anyway, can you come in again this week?"

Me: "Oh...sure."

There was definitely more relationship talk to this interview, but I sadly can't remember what else she brought up - all I know is that by the end of it, I knew, like, her entire romantic life story. Then I came all the way back to DC to meet with other people at the company, which ended up being a five-minute interview consisting mainly of talking about my Amtrak train ride.

And then I never heard from them again. Just as well. I did like that lady, actually, but I could tell she's an over-share-er. And one generally does not want to work for an over-share-er.

In which I am interviewed by 12-year-olds

2009-11-10T11:34:00.000-08:00

Today's terrible interview story comes courtesy of an iconic New York City institution. Yes, internets, it is indeed iconic. And when they called to ask me to come interview for a press job I just about flipped out because it sounded like the COOLEST JOB IN THE WORLD. New York City! Iconic institutions! I have another shot at my romatic-comedy-set-in-New-York ideal world!

Naturally, I didn't tell anyone about it, because I had already learned my lesson about telling everyone about interviews in New York City (see: 'In which I am made to interview for a different job'). So I snuck up to New York in the dark of night...er, on the bus, actually, in broad daylight, but the point is, it was a top-secret mission.

So, the bus arrives on time, I tidy myself up in the bathroom in Penn Station - managing not to get grosser just by going in there - and skip to the interview. La la la! It's a pretty day in New York City! I have an interview for the perfect job! Hello, homeless man! Hello, disgruntled subway commuter! Hello, starving off-Broadway dancer living with 10 people in a studio apartment and no running water! HELLO NEW YORK! LA LA LALALA!

I arrive at my interview destination.

"HELLO!" I boom to the building guard. "I'M HERE FOR AN INTERVIEW! WITH [ICONIC INSTITUTION]! HELLO! HELLO HELLO!"

Guard, raising his eyebrows and wearily picking up the phone: "Girl you need to CALM YOURSELF."

Me: "Erm...ahem. Yes. Sorry about that."

Guard: "Alright. You can go upstairs."

Me: "Thank you."

I go upstairs and sit in the waiting room and end up waiting for, like, 45 minutes, which gives me plenty of time to really build up the importance of this interview in my head and therefore make myself very, very nervous. I keep thinking "man this would be such a great job, and this is an important interview, so DON'T BLOW IT," which then reminds me of the Blue Oyster Cult sketch on SNL where Will Ferrell threatens to walk out of the recording studio because they're not taking the cowbell seriously and Chris Kattan is like "DON'T BLOW THIS FOR US, GENE." And then of course Christopher Walken comes out and is all "I GOT A FEVER, AND THE ONLY PRESCRIPTION IS MORE COWBELL," and -

"[K]"? Oh - someone is calling my name.

Me: "Yes! Hello!"

[Receptionist]: "They're ready for you now."

Me: "Great."

I walk into the office where two girls are waiting for me. Two girls who look younger than me...which, by the way, is hard to do, because I look about 16.

[Girl #1]: "Hi [K]. I'm [Girl #1]. I'm in the HR department - we always do an HR interview screen first, with all of our candidates."

Me: "Oh, OK, so - you're not with the communications department, then."

[Girl #1]: "No. If you get to the next round, you'll meet the communications team."

Me: "OK. Got it."

[Girl #1]: "And this is [Girl #2]. She's in training and she's going to sit in with me and ask you some questions as well."

Me: "OK, great."

[Girl #1]: "[Girl #2], do you want to start?"

[Girl #2], clearing her throat, sitting up straight, and reading from a notepad: "Tell us about a time where you used your communications skills."

Me: "Erm."

[Girls #1 and #2]: Looking at me expectantly.

Me: "Ah, well, I...hee, I've sort of been doing that for a living, these past few years."

[Girls #1 and #2]: Still looking at me expectantly.

Me: "Um...but I guess I can point to some, um, specific examples. For example..." blah blah communications experience blah.

[Girl #2]: "OK." Makes note in her notepad.

Me: Uncertain silence.

[Girl #2], reading from notepad: "Tell us about a time where you had to solve a problem."

Me: "Erm...well, I - I guess there have been, ah, several times..."

[Girls #1 and #2]: Again, waiting expectantly.

Me: "Ah. Well, I guess a good example would be the time..." blah blah stupid story about dealing with breaking news/bad press whatever blah.

[Girl #2]: "OK." Writes again in notepad.

[Girl #1], reading from her own notepad: "What do you like best about communications."

Um...good gravy.

The interview continues like this for another 30 minutes {"Tell us about a time where you had to work together with someone," "Tell us about a time where you overcame an obstacle") and then:

[Girls #1 and #2]: "OK thank you for coming."

Me: "Oh! Well, thank you very much. I just - I know that this position requires fairly advanced knowledge of video editing tools, and I wanted to tell you I - "

Blank looks from [Girls #1 and #2]

Me: "Erm, that...that, I've edited quite a bit, and have filmed for myself, so..."

More blank stares.

Me: "So...I wanted to let you know that I, um, I've had some experience with that. And I also know the position would involve substantial writing, and I..."

More. Blank. Staring.

Me: "I, um, have done a great deal, a wide variety, really, of writing, and I'm happy to provide you with samples, if...if you'd like."

[Girl #1]: "OK. Thanks."

Me: "Um...thank you. Thank you! This is - this sounds like a really wonderful opportunity."

[Girl #1]: "Mmm-hmm. Thanks for coming."

Me: "Erm...you're welcome."

I exit the building and promptly think, "Ummmmmm...what just happened? Is it me, or did we...not talk about the job, at all? Did I mess this up? OH GOSH I MUST HAVE MESSED IT UP BUT HOW? HOW? GAAAAAAAAAH."

And then, of course, since I was agitated and anxious, the New York City streets around me went from being happy and sunny and lovely to "hey hey HEY, ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME, CAB DRIVER? DO YOU NOT SEE THAT YOU HAVE A RED LIGHT? I MEAN REALLY. Oh hey lady DO NOT THINK YOU CAN CUT IN FRONT OF ME IN THE TRAIN LINE AT PENN STATION. OH NO, NO NO," and on and on.

Oh, well. Anyway, I, of course, did not get called back for round two. New York, you and I will just have to wait to be together, it seems.

In conclusion: "I'm telling you, you're gonna want that cowbell."

In which the interview never happens

2009-11-09T07:13:00.000-08:00

So, this was another interview at a PR firm. Eh, PR firms; I can't get too excited about them. I don't know what it is, exactly; I think it's that PR execs have this extreme arrogance about them with nothing to back it up. I mean, what is it that you DO to deserve to stick your nose so high in the air? I'll tell you; you go to fancy lunches and talk about things like "overarching communications and branding strategies" which, in reality, translates to: having your underpaid and overworked underlings write a few press releases and harass various reporters about writing stupid stories about your clients.

I think PR execs are just trying to make up for the fact that they didn't become lawyers.

Anyway, it's this kind of attitude that plays into today's brief terrible interview story.

So, like I said, I had a phone interview scheduled with one of these guys at one of these PR firms. And I was all, eh, not the best thing in the world but it IS a JOB POSSIBILITY so I got my hopes up and did all kinds of research and was READY for the phone interview.

I double-check the day and time: Friday, 2:00 p.m. Yes.

I settle myself in the area of my house which gets the best cell-phone reception (the hallway, if you're wondering).

I am READY.

2:00. I'm so ready.

2:05. Well, naturally, he won't call RIGHT at two. He's busy. Two-ISH he'll call, I'm sure.

2:10. Still nothing, but surely he's just been delayed a bit.

2:15. I straighten the various coats hanging on the pegs in the hallway.

2:20. Oh my God. Did I screw this up? Do I have the wrong day? Wrong time? Oh my God.

2:25. I check my email. Hmm...confirmation email says this Friday, 2:00 p.m. I send the PR exec a quick note and am all "oh hey, I just wanted to make sure I had the right day and time, har har!"

2:30. Nothing.

2:35. DUH. CALL HIM YOURSELF, EINSTEIN. I dial his number.

Voicemail.

"Hrrrrrrruph (oops, forgot to clear my throat BEFORE speaking into answering machine), uh, hi, [PR exec], this is [K]. I - I just wanted to check in with you, because I know we were scheduled to speak today at 2, and I just wanted to be sure I didn't miss you or mix up my times. So, if you could - could just, you know, uh...call - call me, that would be, um, great. Thanks." Click.

2:45. Maybe there was, like, a PR emergency. A "branding strategy" gone wrong. But surely he would have called quickly or sent an email asking to reschedule, right? Am I right?

3:30. I...do not know what to make of this. I guess I can leave the hallway now.

5:00. OK I think it's time for happy hour.

So this was Friday. Then on MONDAY NIGHT, I get the following response to that email I sent on Friday afternoon:

"Hi, [K]. Not a mistake. We were scheduled for Friday. Let's talk next week."

Ummm.

So, I may be overreacting, but - really? REALLY? No apology? No explanation? Not even a passing reference to the fact that I got all PSYCHED UP for this interview and then ALL PANICKY because nobody called me and then ALL SAD because I thought that he somehow decided I was too horrible to even BOTHER INTERVIEWING ME ON THE PHONE?

Nothing? No? Just me? OK.

Sigh.

P.S. I did hear that, many months later, he was fired. HA.

In which I talk politics

2009-11-05T10:15:00.000-08:00

Much more recently, I interviewed for a job that was kind of a hybrid between marketing and government relations. I hadn't actually applied for it and didn't know much about the company or the actual job, so I went in armed with what little info I could pull off the internets.

I should mention that at one point I worked for a major political candidate on a big-deal campaign. So, you know, you have some background.

I walk into [interviewer]'s office and see a giant photo of him with his arm around the opposing political candidate.

Hmmm.

[Interviewer]: "Come in, come in, please have a seat!"

Me: "Thank you! It's nice to meet you."

[Interviewer]: "Likewise. Now, to begin..."

Blah blah standard interview stuff blah.

[Interviewer]: "Now, I see from your resume that you did some work for [major political candidate]."

Me: "Yes! It was a great experience, I loved it."

[Interviewer]: "Well, you guys did a great job."

Me: "Really? Ha, well, thank you!"

[Interviwer]: "I mean you did a great job GETTING [OPPOSING POLITICAL CANDIDATE] ELECTED."

Me: "Oh." Pfffffffffft says my balloon of pride.

[Interviewer]: "I mean, REALLY. How anyone could think that [major political candidate] would have won is beyond me. Abosolutely beyond me. We really crushed you guys, huh?"

Me: "Oh, I'm sorry, did you work for [oppositing political candidate]? I couldn't tell from the GIANT PHOTO OF HIM AND YOU in the middle of your office."

[Interviewer]: "Harharharharhar! That's funny."

I met with him again, later, where he asked questions like, "Tell me, how exactly does someone your age end up working for [political party]? Because it really is beyond me."

"Tell me," I thought in my head, "how does one find a big enough frame for that picture of yours? It is simply beyond me."

"Ha, haha," is what I actually said, "I, erm, well...I don't know."

Great comeback, no?

In which I am terrified of my interviewer

2009-11-04T12:24:00.001-08:00

OK, so, this story is actually from an interview that I had a few years ago. Even though I've gone on 1836403975 interviews this year and still have plenty of stories to share, this old one is pretty much begging to be blogged.

It takes place, yet again, in a newsroom.

This was your standard entry-level newsroom job - the kind that they tell you is sooooooo important and hard and nerve-wracking but in reality is just answering the phone and printing things.

First I meet with one of the bureau heads, a very nice lady, and everything goes well.

Then at the end of the interview, she says, "OK, now I'm going to bring in my colleague to ask you some final questions."

"OK, great!" I say.

"Now, I just want to warn you, she's a bit...aggressive," the nice lady says.

"Oh," I say. "Well, that's ok."

"Just try not to be intimidated," says the nice lady.

"Ah...sure."

Enter [PSYCHO LADY].

[PSYCHO LADY]: "Well, [K], is it?"

Me: "Yes, nice to meet you."

[PSYCHO LADY] sits on desk, folds her arms, and stares at me.

Me: Swallows nervously.

[PSYCHO LADY]: "Alright, let me ask you something. What would you do if a bomb went off outside?"

Me: "Erm. Pardon?"

[PSYCHO LADY]: "I asked you WHAT YOU WOULD DO IF A BOMB WENT OFF. OUTSIDE. RIGHT OUTSIDE."

Me: Unable to frame a response.

WTF? What...is she talking about? Does she mean...umm...would I stay if there were bombs exploding around me, or would I run for it like a normal person? Maybe she's asking whether I'd stay and report on the scene like a fearless journalist. That must be it.

Me: "Well, I'm sure we'd all be tempted to get away, but I would stay with the news team here, of course. It's our job to find out what's going on."

[PSYCHO LADY]: "Oh really? Really? Are you saying you wouldn't, oh, I don't know, CALL IN A CREW? You wouldn't think to do that? Really?"

Me: "Oh - oh! I'm sorry, I didn't realize what you meant exactly - "

[PSYCHO LADY]: "OK NEXT QUESTION."

Me: More nervous swallowing.

[PSYCHO LADY]: "Now let's say that we had a big medical story, like a disease outbreak, and we needed to get a doctor on the phone. And we knew the name of the doctor that we wanted, but we don't have a number for him."

Me: "OK."

[PSYCHO LADY]: "WHAT WOULD YOU DO? And you can't use the internet."

Me: "Erm...I'm sorry, um, why - why can't I use the internet?"

[PSYCHO LADY]: "BECAUSE IN MY DAY WE DIDN'T HAVE THE INTERNET. REAL REPORTING DOES NOT INCLUDE THE INTERNET. NOW WHAT WOULD YOU DO? OR ARE YOU INCAPABLE OF FINDING INFORMATION WITHOUT INTERNET ACCESS?"

Me: "OKAY. Alright, uh, well...since I, erm, can't use the internet..."

[PSYCHO LADY]: Stares daggers with her eyes.

Me: "Perhaps I'd tried calling the Mayo Clinic because I happen to have their number. And if this is a prominent doctor with a history of media appearances, they would probably be able to at least get me to his hospital or practice."

[PSYCHO LADY]: "Oh so you would call the Mayo Clinic but you wouldn't think to, I don't know, LOOK IN A PHONE BOOK? No phone book for you, huh?"

Me: "But...but, how would I know which city - "

[PSYCHO LADY]: "OK well we're obviously going to have to have you come in for a day and work so I can see what you've got."

Me: Sigh. "Great. That's...that'll be fun."

Then, I proceed to come in and work for a day, at the end of which [PSYCHO LADY] says, "well, I think you're going to need to come in again." So I go in and work another day. "Hmmm yeah well I'd like to have you come in again," says [PSYCHO LADY]. So I go in for a third day. Keep in mind that I am a) not being paid, and b) having to continously take off from the job I currently had this point so that I could keep coming in for "trial work days."

Then [PSYCHO LADY] wanted me to come in for A FOURTH DAY, at which point I put my foot down and said that I couldn't come in anymore, since I, you know, had another job.

And I never heard from them again.

Which turned out to be the best break ever, because I got a job in a much better newsroom the next week. Yay.

The end!

In which I mention something I shouldn't

2009-11-03T06:56:00.000-08:00

This next story is another one that was part of an interview that actually wasn't terrible. It wasn't super wonderful, but it wasn't terrible. It was just...standard, I guess.

Anyway, this interview was for a position at a company run by a famous political figure. Well, she's sort of famous in her own right, but she's mostly known for being related to someone who is a REALLY famous political figure. Like, even if you aren't up on your politics, you definitely know who the REALLY famous political figure is. And, well, you're probably not a fan. But whatevs, I'm a Republican, I'm used to the hate.

Anyway, I went in for the interview, but I didn't realize that [famous political figure] was actually going to be CONDUCTING the interview. I didn't even think she'd be there at all. So that was a surprise.

It turns out that she's really, REALLY nice, and the interview was fine - it was pretty obvious from the start that they were looking for someone older than me, which is fine, so I just tried to get through the rest of it without embarassing myself. Which I did, until...

[Famous political figure]: "Now, what have you been doing since January?"

Me, inwardly: Oh gee, I guess I've just really been DESPERATEY TRYING TO GET MYSELF EMPLOYED AGAIN.

Me, for real: "Well, I've done a couple of freelance projects, and I've gotten to travel a bit, which is nice, and, erm, I also worked on a movie, for a little bit."

[Famous political figure]: "Oh really? A movie? Here in DC?"

Me: "Well, sort of - it was already shot, but I just helped with some of the post-production work a bit."

[Famous political figure]: "What kind of a movie was it?"

Me, beginning to regret mentioning this: "Oh, it was, um, a small indie movie."

[Famous political figure]: "Yes, but what kind? You know, what genre?"

Me, really regretting this now: "Erm...well...it was, ah...it was...a samurai movie."

[Famous political figure]: "A...samurai movie?"

NOTE: OK...yes, I did work VERY BRIEFLY for this guy who was working on this samurai movie, and I was just doing, like, phone calls and emails, I wasn't, you know, running around set with swords and stuff, and it was only for like two weeks, and it was stupid, and obviously not the kind of thing you want to list as an accomplishment when interviewing in stuffy, political DC. And yet I bring it up in an interview. Good going EINSTEIN.

Me: "Um...yes. But...it's a really GOOD samurai movie." Lies. The movie is terrible.

[Famous political figure]: "Well...that's very...interesting. We...I guess we could use a few more samurai movies, right?"

Me: "Right! Haa, hee, I guess, you know, everything's better if you...ah...include a samurai movie."

[Famous political figure]: "Uh, yes...right. Ok, well, thanks for coming in."

In conclusion, I think the lesson here is: know your audience.

When interviewing with cool, hispter production companies - mention samurai movie work.

When interviewing with serious politicians - DO NOT mention samurai movie work.

In which I am ignored, repeatedly

2009-11-02T14:13:00.000-08:00

This is also a super quick post - I promise I shall have more actual interview stories starting tomorrow, but anyway - I am particularly frustrated right now because I'm currently being ignored by a company that has already brought me in for two interviews and now...is ignoring me. And also, this is the THIRD company that's done that to me.

I mean, I can obviously understand ignoring the initial application. These people are getting 9000 applications an hour, no? So, you know, I see the job posting, I apply, I stalk the internets for people I might know there who I can harass about the job, and then I go about my day. Whatevs.

I can SORT OF understand ignoring me after the first interview - I mean, if it was just, like, a phone interview, and you didn't even bring me into the office so you could walk me up and down the cubicles and awkwardly introduce me to people passing by whom I'll never see again - I suppose I can understand that.

But making me come in for TWO interviews in which I had to pay LOTS OF MONEYS so I could actually travel BACK DOWN TO DC for YOUR INTERVIEWS and then PRETENDING LIKE YOU'VE NEVER HEARD OF ME when I try to nicely ask, three weeks later, "oh, hey, so, just wondering about this here job situation," is, I say, NOT NICE. NOT NICE AT ALL.

I realize that you think you have the upper hand here, being "employed" and everything, and think that you can just get my hopes up and then crush them like a little bug, but I HAVE A BLOG. That is read by TENS OF PEOPLE A DAY. So I WILL BLOG ABOUT YOU and then you're going to feel REALLY BAD.

Yeah.

In which I am clearly not entertaining enough

2009-10-30T05:58:00.000-07:00

Well, this is a quick story. I went in to interview with the executive producer of a show that I was so, so, SO excited about. The idea of working for this show was like a dream job. So, naturally, I got myself all riled up and did three straight days of research and pretty much ran around, Rocky-style, getting PUMPED. "YO ADRIEEEEEENE!"

Anyway.

I get to the interview and immediately realized that I had to TONE IT DOWN because this producer was, like, the most low-key producer I've ever met. He met me in the lobby and we ambled to the elevator. And then we just, you know, strolled through the newsroom for awhile. And then we slooooowly made our way to his office. And then he calmly sat down and looked for his glasses for 10 minutes before starting the interview.

[Producer]: "Now, tell me about your background."

Me: "Well, I started out..." blah blah standard interview schpiel blah.

[Producer]: "Mmm-hmm, mm-hmm. Now, tell me about your research methods."

Me: "Well, there's a variety of different sources..." blah blah segment research blah.

So I'm chattering away happily and notice that the producer has picked up a stack of papers from his desk and is slowly paging through them while I'm speaking.

And then I realize that they are OTHER PEOPLE'S RESUMES.

He is reading other resumes. DURING MY INTERVIEW. WHILE I AM SPEAKING.

Me: "Erm..."

[Producer]: Continues looking through resumes.

Me: Not speaking.

[Producer]: Continues reading resumes. Does not look up.

Me: Continued silence.

[Producer], finally noticing I have stopped speaking and looking up: "Oh. Mmm-hmm, that's great. Well, thanks for coming in."

End of interview.

Gaaaaaaaah. Note to self: next time, must be interesting enough so that interviewer actually pays attention and is not FORCED TO PURUSE OTHER RESUMES DURING INTERVIEW. What can I do? Juggling? Baton-twirling? FIRE-TIPPED baton-twirling? Hmm. Must brainstorm.

In which I need to change my hairstyle

2009-10-28T06:31:00.000-07:00

Ooooh, this interview is one of my most favorites. I don't even know if I can call it terrible because it was just...so...ridiculous.

I got a call to come interview for a publicity job at a national television show. It's not a show that I watch, er, regularly, but it's a cool show and sounded like an awesome job nonetheless.

So. I'm just going to jump right in.

[Interviewer], walking me into a conference room: "Now, I'm not really into this formal interview bullshit, so we're just going to go in and relax and shoot the shit. OK?"

Me: "Oh! Um, ha, sure, sounds great."

[Interviewer]: "So, tell me your story."

Me: "My...story?"

[Interviewer]: "You know. Your STORY. Where you grew up, siblings, family, what you do for fun."

Me: "Oh...got it."

I tell him my "story," which is not that interesting, so I'll spare you that.

[Interviewer]: "OK."

Me: "Yes."

[Interviewer]: "How do you feel about working with difficult people?"

Me: "Erm."

[Interviewer]: Looks expectantly at me.

Me: "Well...ah...well, I have definitely worked with difficult people in the past."

[Interviewer]: "Well good because you CANNOT be sensitive in this job. You have to be able to take shit. Because [famous host of television show] can be a real prick."

Me: "I...what?"

[Interviewer]: "Yeah. A prick. You really need to be able to handle working with a prick."

Me: "All..alright."

[Interviewer]: "I mean not always. But a lot of the time. Or most of the time. He's just - you know - a prick."

Me, inwardly: Could you...please stop using the work 'prick'? Because, awkward.

[Interviewer]: "Like one time, we were in a meeting and my legs were crossed like this..."

Crosses legs.

[Interviewer]: "And up until that point, I had worn short socks with my pants. You know? Like when I crossed my legs, you could see the skin between the top of my socks and the edge of my pants. See?"

Pulls up pant leg to reveal his large, pulled-up-really-high socks.

[Interviewer]: "Now I wear socks that pull up high, but at the time I was wearing, like, ankle socks. And so when I crossed my legs, you saw all of this hairy skin."

Gestures to hairy leg skin.

Me: Stunned silence.

[Interviewer]: "Anyway, after the meeting [famous host] told me that I needed to buy proper socks and stop embarassing myself and him."

Me: Continuned stunned silence.

[Interviewer]: "So now I know. Right?"

Me, clearing throat in attempt to find voice again: "Erm...right."

[Interviewer]: "So [famous host] is probably going to tell you things you don't want to hear. For example, I'm looking at your hair."

Me: "My...my hair?"

[Interviewer]: "It's down. It's not pulled back."

Me: "Ah..yes."

[Interviewer]: "It's a little distracting."

Me: "Oh. Um...oh."

[Interviewer]: "I might say you need to change your hairstyle."

Me: "Erm..."

[Interviewer]: "How would you feel about that?"

Me: "I...that's..."

[Interviewer]: Silence.

Me: "I...well...I - I'm sorry, are you saying...is there..something wrong with my hair?"

[Interviewer]: "I'm saying that's the kind of thing that [famous host] is going to say and you need to be able to take it."

Me: "Well, I...I mean, I guess I've heard worse, so that's...that's fine."

[Interviewer]: "I mean, you say that now, but YOU HAVE GOT to be able to handle it. The guy that had this job last - he worked on this show for seven years. SEVEN. YEARS. Two months ago, he started in this job, and he ended up quitting the whole show."

Me: "Ah, that's...yikes."

[Interviewer] "He couldn't hack it."

Me: "He...really?"

[Interviewer]: "Yeah. Just couldn't handle [famous host] being a prick."

Me: "I...I see."

[Interviewer]: "Seven years at the show, and he didn't last a month in this job."

Me: Swallows nervously.

[Interviewer]: "Alright. So we'll be in touch, ok?"

Me: "Erm...yes. Ok."

Yikes.

Anyway, I ended up getting a very nice rejection email from this interviewer, and I sincerely hope that whoever did get the job remembers to pull her hair back.

In which I have an awkward salary discussion

2009-10-26T12:46:00.000-07:00

Hello internets! Sorry for the delay in posting! I actually had another round of interviews - one not so terrible, and one so terrible that I haven't even been able to see the humor in it yet to turn it into a blog post. Let's just say the interview ended with the guy saying, "well, you may be hearing from me...but probably not."

Awesome.

Anyway. Blogging!

A few months ago I interviewed for a communications job at a non-profit in New York City. It is a very nice non-profit that does lovely things for people and is generally quite helpful to a large segment of the population. I interviewed with an older, grizzled lady from the Bronx, who would be my boss if I got the job. She was pretty much the exact stereotype of an older woman from the Bronx, complete with New Yawk accent, smoker's cough, and an affinity for phrases like "it's bubkis" and "oh, our department head, what a Meshugeneh." It was like being in a Woody Allen movie.

Anyway, everything was fine until the very end, when...she mentioned the salary.

Now, I must say that I really, really, really do not care much about salaries. I have no desire to buy fancy things or live in fancy places and all I really want, at this point, it is be able to pay my rent and my loans at the same time.

But this was, ah...not live-able. ESPECIALLY in NEW YORK CITY. I mean, I could live in the basement closet of this lady's apartment in the Bronx and still not have been able to buy subway fare to get to work. I mean it was LOW.

But I hate, hate, HATE talking about salaries in a job interview, and I had never really been put in this position before. So...awkward.

Me: "Oh...erm...well...I'm not - I mean, I just want to be completely honest, it would be a little bit difficult for me to take that, if I were offered this position."

Lady: "Well this is typical for a nonprofit."

Me: "No, I understand, it's just - you know, I would have to move to New York and find a place, I don't have anyone that I could really stay with, and it's, you know, so expensive up here, everywhere, that I really don't think- "

Lady: EXASPERATED SIGH.

Me: "Erm...I...Well, I just want to be perfectly honest with you - I don't want to lead you on if this is something that I really can't do. I don't want to prevent you from fully pursuing other candidates if I know for certain that this isn't a position I would be able to accept. This is just...you know...it's just my...my economic reality."

Lady: "Well. You know, working for an organization like this is really not about the money. Truly...it's so much more fulfilling. You, really, are paid in good thoughts."

Me: "Erm...well, it's just that, I really need to be paid in...dollars."

And thus ended the interview.

In which I am asked to do math

2009-10-22T12:55:00.001-07:00

Now, this was not a terrible interview. This little story I'm about to tell was actually part of a very good interview. Really very good indeed. I interviewed to be the research assistant for a famous columnist whom I loooooove. I mean, he's sort of older and grumbly and grouchy and curmudgeonly, but...funny. For example:

[Columnist]: "Listen. I'm going to be straight with you. This wouldn't be like your other jobs. I'm a hermit. I think and I write and I think and I write, and I stay here in my little office most of the time. We're not going to be hanging around the water cooler in the morning chatting about American Idol."

Me: "Well...that's fine."

[Columnist]: "Well it's really not fine. But that's how it is, and I want you to know that up front."

Me: Pause. Silent, trying not to laugh.

[Columnist]: "And I'm not your mentor. OK? Don't ask me to read your stuff."

Me: Still trying not to laugh.

[Columnist]: Starting to smile slightly.

Me: "OK."

[Columnist]: "Moving on."

Anyway...I guess it sounds sort of terrible but it really wasn't. He was a lovely funny curmudgeonly man.

Except when he asked me to solve a math problem.

I am not exaggerating when I say I CANNOT DO MATH. (See previous post). Seriously. Last week I had to ask my friend to add my dinner tip to my total because I COULD NOT FIGURE IT OUT without counting on my fingers and even then I had like a 50/50 shot of getting it right. I distinctly remember my high school calculus teacher asking me to give an answer to a problem and me saying "I don't know why you continue to call on me because WE ALL KNOW I DO NOT KNOW THE ANSWER. EVER."

And then I got detention.

Anyway, back to the interview: we're chatting away about research methods and current events and newspapers and all sorts of nice things.

[Columnist]: "Now, let me ask you something."

Me: "OK."

[Columnist]: "We do a lot of number-crunching here in our research."

Me: "You...you do? Oh...great!"

[Columnist]: "Let's say we figured out that the average American drives about 12,000 miles a year."

Me, nervously: "Alright."

[Columnist]: "And let's say we've also found that the average car gets 25 miles to the gallon."

Me: Oh God I hate numbers wait I've already forgotten the first part oh good gravy he can't ask me to solve a math problem that was not part of the job description oh gosh oh gosh oh gosh wait what was that first part again? 25 something? Oh my God.

[Columnist]: "So. How would you figure out how much gas the average American uses?"

Me: Oh God.

[Columnist]: Waiting expectantly.

I HAVE TO SAY SOMETHING. I can't just sit here. Should I tell him I can't add? No. Idiot. Maybe I should scratch my forehead and look thoughtful. OK good idea do that.

Me, scratching forehead and looking thoughtful: "Hmmm...25, you say?"

[Columnist]: Giving me an odd look and still waiting expectantly.

Me: "Well, I would say...I would say..."

THINK you cannot be THIS MUCH OF AN IDIOT.

Me: "You would...you would..."

OH MY GOD JUST MAKE SOMETHING UP. WITH NUMBERS IN IT.

Me: "You would...divide..."

[Columnist]: Still waiting.

Me: "Erm...divide 12,000 by 25?"

[Columnist]: Silence.

Me: Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no.

[Columnist]: "You would not believe how many people can't answer that question."

Me: "Oh! So...I got it right?"

[Columnist]: "Um...yes."

Me: "OH HA YAY GOOD. Oh wow I mean to be honest, I was just totally taking a stab in the dark there."

[Columnist]: Looks at me oddly.

Me: "Just...just kidding. Hee."

Anyway, the rest of the interview was great, and I was so unused to that that at the end I thanked him for actually being nice to me. And he said, "you're a lovely person." And my hardened heart melted.

Unfortunately, the job ended up being more along the lines of an unpaid internship, so I had to take myself out of the running. "I'll get a real job soon!" I thought. Ha. But that was definitely one of the nicest, most pleasant interviews I've had, ever.

EXCEPT FOR THE DAMN MATH.

In which I am told to interview for a different job

2009-10-21T09:15:00.001-07:00

Holy cats, I cannot tell you how excited I was when an HR lady from [x] news network called to ask me to come up to NEW YORK CITY for an interview for [x] news show. I am a bit obsessed with the idea of moving to New York to work in television because I have the misguided notion that my life will be like a delightful romantic comedy, when in reality I would probably be working long hours for zero dollars, living with 6 people in a studio apartment, and unable to buy food. Actually, that's not a far cry from my life in DC.

Anyway. I of course told everyone I ever met that I was heading up to NEW YORK CITY to interview at [x] network for [x] show. [x] network is more of a "business" network, but I had worked with some of their producers in my last job, so I was all, "oh I am an EXPERT. yes i am."

So. I journey to NYC, which involves a bus, and then a train, and then a cab, and then waiting at an intersection on the streets of New York for a shuttle van to take me to the studio, which...is not actually in New York. It is, it turns out, in...New Jersey.

Hmmm.

I get in the van.

Driver: "Going to Atlantic City, right? Let's go."

Me: "What? WHAT? NO! I'm not...WAIT STOP THE VAN THERE'S BEEN A MISTAKE, I'M NOT-"

Driver: "I'm just kidding."

Me: "Oh...ha."

Driver: "I like to mess with people in the van."

Me: "That's...that's...cool. Ha."

Driver: "But we are going to Jersey. That's where the studio is. Don't worry, it's not that far. Be there in a jiffy."

Me: "Great. Jersey. Yay."

It really isn't that far (physically, at least...mentally, New Jersey might as well be Kazakstan) and I arrive and see the studio and sit down in the office of the HR lady.

HR Lady: "I liked your resume. I always like to pursue the resumes that I like."

Me: "Oh, thank you! I'm very excited to have the opportunity to interview here."

HR Lady: "The thing is, [x] show is looking for someone who has a financial journalism background, and I can see right away from your resume that you don't have that."

Me: "Oh. Well, no, not specifically in finance. More in political news, and in the energy markets, but-"

HR Lady: "Right. So we're not going to consider you for this job."

Me: Surprised silence.

HR Lady: Silence.

Me: I blink.

Me: "But...you...wanted me to come up for an interview."

HR Lady: "I would have just done a phone screen. You were the one who said you were going to be in the area."

NOTE: I did say that. But in my defense, when she first called, she was all "well we'd LOVE to have you actually come to the STUDIO if you're going to be up in the area by ANY chance, that would be FABULOUS. Ifnotwecanjustdoaphoneinterviewthanks." So of course I was all "oh yes I just happen to be going to New York that very week what a coincidence!" Am I right?

Me: "Right. Well...ok, then."

HR Lady: Scribbles something down on her notebook.

Me: Blinks again.

HR Lady: "You know...[Y] show is looking for someone. I think I'll have you interview with the executive producer. Stay here."

She walks out and disappears.

Me, inwardly: [Y] show? I don't know anything about [Y] show! Nobody told me I was going to be interviewing for [Y] show! Omgomgomgomg. What if the producer asks me specific questions about [Y] and I DON'T KNOW? I can't tell her I DON'T EVEN KNOW. HOW AM I GOING TO HANDLE THIS.

HR Lady returns.

HR Lady: "Well, she's in crashing mode right now, but she'll be able to talk to you around 5:30."

It's currently 2:30.

Me: "Erm...great!"

HR Lady: "You can wait in the cafeteria and then come to the green room at 5:30. She'll be there."

Me: "Oh...ok! Will...will do. Thank you."

So I set up camp in the cafeteria and alternate between obsessively watching [X] network, which is playing on a TV in the corner, and calling anyone I know who might watch [Y] who can tell me more about it. I have, luckily, seen at least parts of the show a few times so I may be able to avoid looking like a complete idiot. Maybe.

Anyway. 5:30 rolls around. I make my way to the green room.

"Hello," says the green room guard.

"Hello," I say. "I'm just meeting a producer here. She's expecting me. She's going to come and get me."

"Okay," says the guard.

I wait.

And wait.

Wait wait wait wait.

Oh. I forgot to mention that [Y] show is hosted by someone who is rather famous. That was pretty much the only thing I knew about [Y] show.

Also, at this point, it's 6:30.

Wait wait wait wait wait wait.

[Famous host] walks by.

"Great!" I think. "They're done taping! The producer can't be far behind!"

Wait. Wait wait wait wait.

"Excuse me," I say to the guard. "Do you know [producer]? I'm not sure what she looks like and I'm wondering if you've seen her walk by."

"Oh, [producer]?" says the guard. "Yeah, I think she left."

"She...she left? Like, left the building?"

"Yeah, I think I saw her leave for her car."

Ummmm.

"And [HR Lady], she definitely left," adds the guard. "I definilely saw her leave."

"Oh," I say. "Umm...well...I mean, I came all the way up to New York, so...I guess I'll wait a little bit more. Just...just in case they come back. Because...I'm not sure what to do."

The guard shrugs. "Whatever."

Wait wait wait wait.

It's 7:30.

I get up to leave.

A woman comes barreling in the green room and picks up my suitcase and starts walking away.

Me: "Ummmmmmmmmmmm"

Woman, over her shoulder: "I'm [producer.] Thanks for waiting let's go to my office come on." She is already halfway down the hallway. With my suitcase. I run run run to catch up to her and follow her into her office.

We run through the standard background interview: blah blah production experience blah blah press experience blah blah energy blah blah television news blah blah fast-paced working environments blah.

[Producer]: "Now, tell me honestly - how much do you understand the financial markets?"

NOTE: I DO NOT AT ALL understand anything finance-related. I cannot even do math. This is true.

Me: "Erm...well...I...closely follow the financial news." Lies. All lies.

[Producer]: "Honestly, it's ok if you don't. I'll tell you, I didn't even know how the Dow worked when I started here!"

Me: "Oh haar hee hee!"

Oh God I do not at all understand how the Dow works.

[Producer]: "The point is, we can teach you these things. This isn't a hard-core finance show like some of the others are. You'll be able to learn the basics and go from there."

Me: "Oh, that sounds great. I would love that."

[Producer]: "Ok. Great. How about you take this writing test and email me the results when you're finished. How does that sound?"

Me: "Great! I'll get these to you right away."

[Producer]: "That's fabulous. Thanks so much for waiting, you're a trooper."

Me: "Oh, no problem, happy to do it." Lies.

[Producer]: "Oh. Also, we may not be able to hire for this position."

Me: "Erm...pardon?"

[Producer]: "We've had a lot of budget cuts, you know? But go ahead and do the writing test anyway. We might be able to hire someone...eventually."

Me: "Um...ok. Gr...great."

Needless to say...they did not hire anyone.

But the worst part was that I had stupidly TOLD everyone that I was interviewing, so for the next few weeks everyone I talked to was all "HEY! When are you moving to New York? You got that job, right?" And I had to be like, "oh...well...erm, no, actually." And then, you know, it's awkward for everyone.

In which I do not make eye contact

2009-10-20T05:59:00.000-07:00

A good percentage of my interviews have been with public relations firms.

Now, here's the thing about PR firms. They are, in my experience, basically havens for smart people who want to make money but didn't want to be lawyers and aren't good at math.

So in the big firms, it's sort of, ah, a corporate environment. Which means that some people are super nice and some people are...not.

Just setting the stage.

I don't know HOW this one firm got my resume, but I got a call a few months ago asking if I could come in for an interview. "Hooray!" said I.

So I headed over and met some very nice people and had quite a nice chat, and they were all "great well we're moving slowly but we'd love to have you come back and meet the CEO" and I was all "sweet Mother Theresa that sounds great" and all was fine.

A few weeks later I get a call from the CEO's secretary asking me to come in.

THe CEO! Of a big fancy firm! I flew around getting ready, trying to look "professional" and "polished" and "not like a 12-year-old playing dress-up in my mom's suit" and hurried off.

I get to the waiting room and tell the receptionist my name and sit down to wait. Must look professional, he could walk in any second. Ooh, look, pretty flowers! Argh OK focus.

So I wait. And wait. Aaaaaand wait. Then the receptionist comes back and we chat about the weather. And her husband. And how hard it is to find a job right now (yeah I'm aware, thanks).

"Oh he's just wrapping up a meeting," the receptionist says. "He'll be RIGHT out."

"Great," I say. Hmm. I guess I'll read this "industry" magazine here and pretend to look fascinated.

Approximately 45 minutes later...

"Hey...[K]?" says the receptionist.

"Yes?"

"We're going to have to ask you to come back on a different day. He's VERY busy, you see."

"Oh...sure." Pfffffffffffff says my balloon of excitment that has just been deflated.

So. I come back two weeks later and wait in the same waiting room with the same industry magazine for another 45 minutes before the CEO saunters by.

"[K]?"

"Yes sir! It's very nice to- "

"Listen, we've got a deadline right now, so I've got a lot to focus on. You understand. Let's get started." He's already walking away. Do I follow? I guess so.

We sit down in his office and he immediately turns to his computer and starts typing.

Type type type type.

I sit awkwardly.

Type type type.

I look at pictures of his kids on his bookshelf.

Type type type type.

I blow a strand of hair out of my eyes.

Type type type type type type type type type.

Am I supposed to be talking? Hmm. I continue to sit.

"Now," he says.

I snap to attention.

"Tell me about energy."

Ugh. That was one of my former jobs, doing press in the energy sector. I mean, yay energy, but I can tell where this is going. Al Gore makes a powerpoint slide show and suddenly everyone's an energy expert.

Me: "Well, my job covered a range of topics- "

CEO: "Explain environmental management to me."

Um, yikes. I pause to collect my thoughts.

Me: "Well, it can be a bit complicated to explain, but essentially, environmental management is cleaning up waste from old nuclear production sites, that- "

CEO: "Tell me why that's interesting."

Me: "Sor- sorry?"

CEO: "Pitch me. I'm the media. Pitch me. Now."

Good gravy this man is INTENSE.

Me: "Well, a completed site is actually an interesting environment story. For example, one of the sites out West is actually now a big park. This is a place that just a few years ago was covered in nuclear waste. You couldn't go within miles of it. And now you can go walk your dog and play frisbee there. It's pretty cool, when you think about the transformation- "

CEO: "OK can I stop you right there?"

Me: "Uh..sure."

CEO: "OK yeah everything you're saying is great. I mean everything that you are actually saying is great."

Me: "Er...thanks."

CEO: "But I don't know what is so fascinating in my office that's making you look around while you talk."

Me: "Erm. Pardon me?"

CEO: "You talk and then you look around, and then you talk and then you look around some more. I don't know what you're looking at. My office is not that interesting."

Me: "I...I didn't mean- "

CEO: "I wouldn't put you in a room with a client if that's how you act."

Me: Stunned silence.

CEO: "Excuse me." He picks up his phone and makes a call about advertising rates.

Meanwhile, I am mortified. Do I really not make eye contact? I THOUGHT I made eye contact. But sometimes when I'm thinking about something complicated I look down or away while I think - right? But doesn't everyone do that? HAVE I BEEN GOING THROUGH LIFE NOT LOOKING PEOPLE IN THE EYE? WHAT KIND OF A FREAK HAVE -

CEO: "OK."

Me: "Uh, yes." He has finished his extremely important phone call, apparently.

CEO: "We'll be in touch."

Me: "Erm."

CEO: "I can't walk you out. Mark can, he's right outside." Turns back to his computer.

Me: "Erm...ok, great. Thank - thank you."

End.

Actually not really the end - I did meet with one other guy after that who was super nice, although he was probably a little scared because I was STARING AT HIM INTENSELY in the hopes of MAKING EYE CONTACT AT ALL TIMES and I think I freaked him out.

And...I did not get that job. No. No I did not.

In which I am thought to be an idiot and a liar

2009-10-19T07:41:00.000-07:00

And the terrible interviews continue!

We come now to a more recent interview I had. (I'm not really going in chronological order but instead trying to space these out according to levels of drama/humor/incredulity and by how much the interviewer was an asshat. Asshat. One of my favorite words, although I'm not exactly sure what it is except that it's BAD.)

So, this was for an editor position at a publication that I loooove. I lurve it. It's not so well-known outside of DC, but it is awesome and I am a huge fan. Or should I say I WAS. (Just kidding. I still am a huge fan. It will take more than one terrible interview to stop me from reading this thing.)

Anyway, after applying for the position, I receieved an email from the editor asking for some times that would work for me to come in the following week. Huzzah!

Aaaand, then I realized that it was actually a mass email, sent to all of the candidates he was considering. Oh.

Of course we were all BCC'd, so there was no way of seeing who else was on the list and then Google-stalking them, but in yet another reminder of just how many unemployed people are vying for every single open position out there, I could tell that there were a LOT of people on that email. Mostly because the editor at one point wrote something about how he was SO stressed trying to schedule SO many interviews for this job and could we all PLEASE be flexible with our time.

Sir, I have NOTHING BUT TIME right now. I am nothing if not FLEXIBLE WITH MY TIME.

Now, I had another friend who had also applied for this job and who also got the mass email, and we talked about it a bit and at one point, I had thought she said something about the editor sending ANOTHER mass email with the interview schedule for the week.

Hmmm...I didn't get a second mass email. But I did get an email from the editor, straight to me, confirming out interview date and time and sounding perfectly pleasant.

Well, clearly I had misheard my friend! Everything was fine! Time to interview!

[I arrive at the office, we shake hands, smile, sit down, everything is fine, yay.]

Editor: "Now, did you bring the materials that I asked you to fill out and bring in?"

Me: Freezes in extremely confused silence.

Editor: "Yes?"

Me: "Oh - I'm sorry, I'm not sure which materials you mean."

Editor: "The forms that I emailed you?"

Me: "I...I don't believe I recieved any forms from you."

Editor: LONG EXASPERATED SIGH. Wearily turns to his keyboard and starts typing.

Me: [Furiously racking my brain] "I'm so sorry, I must have missed that somehow..."

Editor: [Looking at his computer] "Mmm-hmmm. Well. I did mention right at the beginning of this email to make sure you bring these forms with you. But I guess you missed it."

Me: "Oh, gosh, I don't - I just really don't remember reading that- "

Editor: "Right."

Me: [Completely sure I did not get any such email] "I'm...I'm so, so sorry...but...I don't believe I received this email."

Editor: [Peering at his computer again] "Were you the one that never responded to my first email?"

Me: "Erm...what?"

Editor: "Oh that's right. I had to follow up with you because you didn't respond right away, when I asked for times that you could interview."

Me: "Erm...well I think I sent you my times the next morning- "

Editor: "ARRRRRGH THIS PRINTER NEVER WORKS."

Me: "Pardon?"

I then realize that the editor is trying printing out these wayward "forms" for me to fill out during the interview. They turned out to be your standard background employment forms.

Me: "Oh well I can definitely fill these out right now, haaa it won't take any time at all!"

Editor: "Let's move on."

Me: "Ok."

So the interview hasn't even STARTED yet and this man thinks I'm a) an idiot, b) a liar, or c) both.

Editor: "Now, obviously this job is very politics-heavy. Are you well-versed in political news?"

Me: "Oh, yes. I worked on [x] campaign and for [x] network and I've been very involved in political communications since moving here. I'm a little removed from it right now, since I've been doing some temporary work up in Pennsylvania and- "

Editor: "What do you think of the Pennsylvania governor's race?"

Me: "Uh, ha, well, it's going to be very interesting."

Editor: "Tell me who the candidates are."

Me: "Ah, sure. Well, Gerlach just announced his candidacy, I think he'll be a pretty strong player."

Editor: "Mmm-hmm who else."

Me: "Um. Well, Tom Knox is running - he's a big name in Philadelphia, but not- "

Editor: "Right. Who else."

Me: "Erm, also...Corbett, who is...who is..." [GOOD LORD I CANNOT REMEMBER THE DETAILS OF EVERY PENNSYLVANIA GUBERNATORIAL CANDIDATE ARRRGH]

Me: "Who is...I believe...the former attorney general?"

Editor: "Actually he is the CURRENT ATTORNEY GENERAL."

Me: Nervous silence.

Editor: "Now. Let me ask you this. If you could go back two years and work on Hillary Clinton's presidenial campaign, what would you tell her so that she would succeed?"

Me: "Erm."

Editor: Waiting expectantly.

Me: "Well...if you look at my conservative political background, you'll see that if I went back two years, I, ha, probably wouldn't be working for Hillary Clinton."

Editor: Silence.

Me: "Errrrm...haha...hoo. Um. Well, I suppose I would tell her to keep Bill out of the spotlight from the beginning...I remember people comparing the Clintons to the Bushes, in that Hillary's election would be the continuation of another dynasty." Why can I not remember anything about her campaign? WHY?

Editor: "Hmm."

Me: "And...um...I would probably tell her not to cry, that one time, that she cried, in front of everyone?" Oh God my brain has stopped working.

Editor: "Ooooookay. Well, do you have any questions?"

Me: "Ah- "

Editor: "Because for better or worse, I'm done here."

Me: "Oh."

Nervous pause.

Me: "Uhh, I guess I should tell you why I...why I think I would be a good fit for...for this job."

Another five minutes of me bumbling through my qualifications and the editor looking extremely skeptical before I was dismissed.

Later, upon conferring with my friend, I realized that there WAS a second mass email sent out WITH THE FORMS and that NO, NO I WAS NOT ON IT, THANK YOU VERY MUCH.

Perhaps the editor did realize this because I did get a second interview, which was perfectly fine, until they asked me who my favorite political pundit was and I said Jonah Goldberg, and right after I said that, inwardly I was all, "WTF? I barely even know who Jonah Golberg IS, why did I even say that?" and I think I also said something about creating a "conservative Daily Show" (SERIOUSLY BRAIN WTF WHY DO YOU KEEP CONKING OUT ON ME) and, obviously, did not end up getting the job.

Le sigh.

In which I apparently read the wrong websites

2009-10-16T05:23:00.000-07:00

Also somewhat early on in my job search, I had applied for a job in the programming department of a majorly awesome cable network. One of my favorites. And then I actually GOT A CALL FROM THEM ABOUT IT. Now, I must tell you, this never, ever happens to me ever. I am constantly sending my resume to every television network along with about 8000 other people a day, so naturally I never expect it to actually lead to anything. So when I got a REAL call from a REAL person at the network asking if I was available for a REAL phone interview, I was super, super excited.

"So you'll be interviewing with [X] - he's the head of program development and you'd basically be his right-hand person," the HR lady said. "I'll have him call you at 2:00 tomorrow."

"Great! Great! I'm really looking forward to it! Ok! Good! Excellent! Thank you!" It's probably a good thing she hung up at this point because I was on my way to offering her my first-born child.

Omgomgomgomg. Must start researching! By the end of the night I knew the entire history of the network and every single show and all of their programming decisions and all of the talent and how they were weathering the economy and [X]'s entire life history, including the mascot of his high school. But I wasn't going to mention that! Haa I'm not a psycho! How...haaa...how silly! Haa!

Anyway, my phone rings at precisely 2:00 p.m. the next day and I have had 3 cups of coffee so I am READY. WHEE!

"Hi, [K]? This is [X]. Great to speak with you. You know, I used to work with a [K] at another network. That's funny, you both have the exact same name."

"HAHAHAHAHA! OH WOW, THAT IS A HILARIOUS COINCIDENCE! HAHAHA!" Oh good gravy I need to calm down.

Which I did, and the first half of the interview was totally fine. Blah blah production experience, blah blah media experience, blah blah hardworking detail-oriented blah television yay.

[X]: "Great. Now, what do you watch on television?"

[K]: "Haha, well, of course I watch [major cable network], haha!"

[X]: Silence.

[K]: "Erm...yes, and besides all of those fine quality shows, let's see, I watch LOST, The Office, 30 Rock, Project Runway. Those are probably my favorites. I also watch the news a lot, as I really like to keep up with everything that's happening, especially in politics."

[X]: "The news...I see."

[K]: "Uh...well, you know, because I worked in news, so...it's hard to...to break the habit, haha!"

[X]: Silence.

[K]: Quietly panicking.

[X]: "Now, what are your main websites? Where do you go every day to find out what's happening?"

[K]: "Oh! Well, MSNBC is my home page. I think it's really one of the best news websites. And I check the Drudge Report for breaking news. I generally read the New York Times online and most of the Washington Post online, depending on time. There are so many others, but those are kind of my mainstays."

[X]: "Hmm."

[K]: "Ye...yes?"

[X]: "You don't read Perez Hilton?"

NOTE: I read Perez Hilton EVERY DAY. 5000 TIMES A DAY. Along with People, Gawker, TMZ, the Daily Mail, DListed (thank you S!) and every single other gossip website that everyone reads but generally does not mention DURING A JOB INTERVIEW.

[K]: "Oh gosh, wow, well yes, I do - I...ha...I just didn't think I was supposed to mention that during an interview, ha, and- "

[X]: "Because I read Perez all day. I check him every 10-15 minutes, really."

[K]: "Me too! I mean, I do as well! I- "

[X]: "I find the internet very inspiring. The creativity really helps inspire me, and that's what I'm looking for in this department. I get really inspired by album cover art too. Really. Some of it is just genius."

[K]: "I...I know! There's so much creativity out there, you- "

[X]: "Perez is great."

[K]: "He IS great! He sometimes links to Wonkette, which is another favorite of mine. I also like TMZ a lot, they've always got the funniest stories."

[X]: Silence.

[K]: Nervous silence.

[X]: "TMZ is a little trashy, [K]."

[K]: "Erm." What?

[X]: "What I really need here in this department is someone who really knows what's out there, you know? Someone who is really aware of what's happening in the world, not just in the...'news'."

[K]: "I...yes, I completely agree, I- "

[X]: "We'll be in touch. Thanks."

Dial tone.

Well, in a panic and convinced that I had blown this interview - although unclear as to how, exactly - I tried to email [X] a lovely thank you. When I called the HR lady to ask for his email, she was all, "oh, you can just send it to me. I'll make sure he sees it. Mmm-hmm ok great thanks bye."

Needless to say...I never heard from them again.

In conclusion, here is a typical posting from Perez.

But TMZ? That's TRASHY.

In which I am creepily asked about my dating status

2009-10-15T07:05:00.001-07:00

Early on in my job search, I scored my first interview with a man who would, if I were hired, be my boss. The BIG boss. The boss of all the employees. (Not that there were many working for him, but the point is, he was the big cheese). I was interviewing for his main company, but he has this other side company also, and that's where he wanted me to come for the actual interview.

At night.

In an otherwise deserted shopping center. With empty, boarded-up storefronts.

In the middle of nowhere. I could hear coyotes howling nearby.

Also, I don't have a car. And all of the public transportation options I tried to find were all, "oh no WAY, we don't go that far out. Good luck, missy."

So I talked my wonderful friend Katie into driving me 45 miles away after work so that I could get to my first job interview. Poor Katie had had a horrible day of her own, but still agreed to drive my arse to a scary deserted shopping center while it got darker and darker outside.

Now, the man had said to me, "oh, I know it's after hours, but I'll be there and so will my office manager, and the building will still be unlocked, so you'll have no problem getting in." Those were, of course, all lies.

After pulling into the scary empty shopping center, I stood pulling at the locked door of the building while Katie sat in the car with the doors triple-locked. The door wouldn't budge. I pushed the call button next to the door. No one answered. I called the man to see if I was in the right place. No answer. Hmm.

This went on for about 20 minutes until a kindly gentleman who was leaving the building (unclear what he was doing in the nearly-deserted building in the first place, but whatever) let me in, and I finally made it upstairs and outside a second locked door leading to the seemingly empty office.

I called the man again...and again...and again. At this point, the interview was supposed to have started almost an hour ago. I finally got through to another employee, who told me that the man was on some kind of conference call and was supposedly driving over to the office now. Hooray. And then the office manager DID appear and let me in to the actual office. Double hooray.

The man FINALLY arrives and tells me he has to "take care of something" before the interview can start, and then disappears for another 20 minutes before reappearing looking extremely hassled and clutching his blackberry. I do not ask.

So, interview begins - approximately 80 minutes after I arrived. Also, Katie is still waiting in the car.

It soon becomes clear that this man is crazy. He is convinced that Twitter is "the future of the company" and that the reason the company hasn't had such a great year is due to the lack of adequate tweeting. At one point he mentions that if hired, I would be "the face" of the company. To which I replied, "oh, does that mean that you don't want to be a spokesperson?"

Man, looking at me like I've lost my mind: "Of course I'm the spokesperson. I AM the company."

Me: "Oh, I'm sorry, I guess I misunderstood - you would be the face, then?"

Man: "Excuse me? You are the face."

Me: "Ok...but not...but I wouldn't actually speak on behalf of...the company, then."

Man: "Well, you would do some interviews."

Me: "Oh, ok, so I would also be a spokesperson."

Man: "I AM THE SPOKESPERSON."

Me: "I...alright."

The man then mentions that they are looking to fill the position IMMEDIATELY, and also, that I would have to move. To another city. I'm ok with that, right? Like, perhaps I could start on Monday? That's IF I'm offered the job, of course, which hasn't been decided yet. But if offered, I could be in the new city on Monday, right?

Me: "Oh! Well...gosh, I mean, I would need to find a place to live, first."

Man: "You can't stay with a friend?"

Me: "Um, well, I would also have to figure out what to do with my current lease, here, and also, you know, move all of my stuff, and also I don't have a car. I would probably need a car. I'm, ha, you know, also a little hesitant to commit to moving right now, this city is sort of my home now and..."

Man: "Are you single?"

Me: "Erm...pardon?"

Man: "Are you single. Do you have a boyfriend?"

Me: "Um...ah, no, not...not right now."

Man: "Then there's nothing keeping you here then, huh?"

Me, inwardly: I...feel like I just took a bullet. Thank you.

Man: "There's a lot of single guys in [new city]."

Me: "Ha...ha...I'm...well, that's...good."

Man: "We'll find you someone. You won't be alone."

Me: "I...ok."

And thus ended the interview. Katie was thankfully still alive when I made it back to the scary parking lot and was the best sport ever about the whole thing.

A few days later I got a call from the man offering me the job, but due a hesitancy to move and numerous creepy feelings about the whole situation, I turned it down...at which point he got decidedly pissed and tried to bully me into taking it, but thankfully I stood my ground. "I've only been interviewing for a few weeks," I thought, "I'll have better options to choose from!"

HA. What an idiot I am.

It turns out, though, that the man ended up getting fired four months later, which means I would have been fired right along with him. So I would have given up my lease, moved to a new city of complete strangers, and STILL been unemployed.

But there WAS the promise of single men. Oh well.

Hello, internets!

2009-10-15T06:41:00.000-07:00

Hello internets!

I haven't really attempted this whole "blogging" thing before, but I figure, you know, first time for everything. Also, I've got a lot of time on my hands these days.

Anyway, like many, many, MANY people out there, I lost my job this year. I've been going through the tricky, nerveracking and exhausting process of trying to find another one - obsessively checking job sites, sending out resumes, volunteering, searching for unpaid temporary jobs, awkwardly attending networking events only to find out that 97% of people there are also unemployed, calling up everyone I've ever met to see if they know of a job, any job, anywhere.

And then sometimes, one of these things actually works! And I get an interview somewhere! And I would say that roughly half of the people I've interviewed with have been perfectly pleasant and kind, and it unfortunately hasn't worked out in my favor - sometimes you're just not the right person for the job.

But the other half of my interviews have been terrible. TERRIBLE, I tell you. To the point where I almost believe that I'm being punked, and Ashton Kutcher is going to jump out at me from behind a potted plant in his trucker hat, even though I'm not at all famous, he stopped wearing trucker hats circa 2003, and that show isn't even on anymore.

I have to say that I'm grateful that I've even had any interviews at all - I know so many people that haven't gotten any yet. It's awful out there. But there is something particularly painful about getting super psyched about the possibility of actually landing a job again and then having it ALL COME CRASHING DOWN and leaving you in a mingled state of shock, despair and utter bewilderment.

So, instead of forcing my friends and family to listen to me rehash my terrible interviews over and over again, I thought I would just start writing it down. Surely there are other people out there who are going through the same experiences - maybe it would help if we all knew that we weren't alone. These ridiculous employers are sitting there, all smug because of their "jobs" and "steady income" and "ability to pay bills on time," and handing us poor souls some TERRIBLE, HORRIBLE, NO-GOOD, VERY BAD INTERVIEWS.

And so I present...Terrible Interviews.