--Sorry this one’s even later than normal, but I was having
“opportunities” with my computer this morning.The mysterious error message I received when I turned the
bastard on was the first opportunity, and when it began moving slower
than a fat woman in the sandwich spread aisle of Wal-Mart, that was
the second one.Grrrr…
I ran a Spybot scan, and it found several scary things, then struggled
to “fix” them.I was instructed to reboot on multiple occasions, and it’s
still not quite right.I think I might’ve picked up the malicious Tayback virus.
So I’m typing this at the library, while a big honkin’ AVG
full-system scan is underway on my home machine.
Just so you know… there’s a baby making continuous uhhhh-uh noises to my left, a college-age hair gel hipster sitting
behind me swigging bottled water and breathing straight through his
nostrils, and somebody stapling at the front desk like they’re
entered in a winner-takes-all stapling contest.
To tell you the truth, I’m not in the best of moods.
--Yesterday’s job interview was baffling, and I have no idea
where I stand with those people.I’d put a lot of effort into preparing for the meeting,
researching the history of the company, and readying several creative
comments and well-considered answers to standard interview questions.
I also spent plenty of time on Monday afternoon preparing my suit and
vacuuming the interior of my car, to remove flying Andy hair, so I
could walk in there fur and lint-free, and ready to do battle.
But all of it was for naught, because of the structure of the meeting.I figured that since the initial HR interview had consisted
mainly of those irritating “Describe a time in your work
history…” questions, this interview – with the hiring managers
– would be more traditional.
Wrong.
I arrived about twenty minutes early, but didn’t go inside until
about ten minutes prior to my appointment.The receptionist buzzed me in, and after I signed the log book
she told me to have a seat, and said they’d call my name when they
were ready for me.
I walked over to the waiting area and there was an older woman sitting
there who looked a little like Nancy Kulp.And across from her was the lead singer of Everclear, in a
conservative suit.He looked like he could’ve been a member of the Young
Republicans, except for his peroxide hair and eyebrow ring.
He gave me the mandatory sup? lift
of the chin, and I supped him back.Jane Hathaway just stared straight ahead and never acknowledged
either of us.Because she was in the zone.
In a few minutes a woman with a Swedish(?) accent came bounding into
the waiting room, and called my name.I got up, we shook hands, and she led me to a tiny conference
room in the bowels of the building.
Waiting there were two other people:a man and a woman.I was introduced to them, and instantly forgot their names.Then I was told to have a seat wherever I liked, and the
Swedish woman started in on the “interview.”
She looked at my resume and asked a couple of basic questions, like,
“Why’d you leave your last job?” and “Are you aware that your
fly is open, and we can all see your wiener encased in blue cotton?”
Well, they didn’t really ask that second one, but you get the idea.Then, and if I’d been Mr. Krabs my arms would’ve fallen
off, they whipped out a piece of paper with five more of those
“Describe a time…” questions printed on it.
And that was the entire interview.They asked me to tell them about five specific instances in my
work history, and how they’d turned out.Then it was over, and they began winding it all down.No talking, or getting to know each other, or anything of the
sort….
The whole process only took about twenty minutes, and I got the
feeling it was the expected length of time.You can tell when people believe they’ll be there much
longer, or much shorter, but these three acted like they were right on
schedule.Seemed kind of
abbreviated to me, and highly unsatisfying…
They told me that if I’m chosen I’ll be expected to go through six
to eight weeks of intense training, and repeated over and over again
that I wouldn’t be allowed to take time-off during the training
period.
“Do you understand this?” they kept demanding.
What the hell, man?!Yes, I get it.Not a problem.
“But you’re clear on the no-time-off part, right?”
Sweet Jesus.Why does everything have to be so odd?
I was led back to the door where I’d come in, and noticed that Art
and Jane were gone.Also confusing.Did they have three teams of three doing these interviews?I’d assumed we’d be called in one at a time.
So, in a nutshell, I have no idea what’s going on.I believe I answered their questions well (I was firing on all
cylinders yesterday), but all three of
my interviewers wore emotionless poker faces throughout.
I’m supposed to know their decision within two weeks.Pass the beer nuts.
--And I know this one is kinda short, but (thankfully) I’m
getting by with a little help from my friends.
Here are two new Smoking Fish sightings, captured by two sisters on
the same day -- on two different continents.Hey, when I say our logo gets around, I mean he
gets around.
And before I get to the Question, I have a real treat for you folks
today:something new from Metten.Yes, you read that correctly, Metten.Right here.This one made me laugh out loud, and I know you’ll enjoy it
as well...
Finally, the Question of the Day…I mentioned that one of my interviewers had (I think) a Swedish
accent yesterday, and I don’t have any problem with that.Swedish I can handle, but some accents send me instantly into a
full-body clench.
I’ll keep the specifics to myself (they’re regional American
accents, or dialects, or whatever), but what about you?What accents drive you right up the freakin’ wall?Use the comments link to tell us about it, won’t you?
And if my computer cooperates, I’ll see you guys tomorrow.
