In which we have happy holidays

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.