Friday, October 30, 2009

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.

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

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.

Monday, October 26, 2009

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.

Thursday, October 22, 2009

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.

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

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.

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

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.

Monday, October 19, 2009

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.

Friday, October 16, 2009

In which I apparently read the wrong websites

Also somewhat early on in my job search, I had applied for a job in the programming department of a majorly awesome cable network. One of my favorites. And then I actually GOT A CALL FROM THEM ABOUT IT. Now, I must tell you, this never, ever happens to me ever. I am constantly sending my resume to every television network along with about 8000 other people a day, so naturally I never expect it to actually lead to anything. So when I got a REAL call from a REAL person at the network asking if I was available for a REAL phone interview, I was super, super excited.

"So you'll be interviewing with [X] - he's the head of program development and you'd basically be his right-hand person," the HR lady said. "I'll have him call you at 2:00 tomorrow."

"Great! Great! I'm really looking forward to it! Ok! Good! Excellent! Thank you!" It's probably a good thing she hung up at this point because I was on my way to offering her my first-born child.

Omgomgomgomg. Must start researching! By the end of the night I knew the entire history of the network and every single show and all of their programming decisions and all of the talent and how they were weathering the economy and [X]'s entire life history, including the mascot of his high school. But I wasn't going to mention that! Haa I'm not a psycho! How...haaa...how silly! Haa!

Anyway, my phone rings at precisely 2:00 p.m. the next day and I have had 3 cups of coffee so I am READY. WHEE!

"Hi, [K]? This is [X]. Great to speak with you. You know, I used to work with a [K] at another network. That's funny, you both have the exact same name."

"HAHAHAHAHA! OH WOW, THAT IS A HILARIOUS COINCIDENCE! HAHAHA!" Oh good gravy I need to calm down.

Which I did, and the first half of the interview was totally fine. Blah blah production experience, blah blah media experience, blah blah hardworking detail-oriented blah television yay.

[X]: "Great. Now, what do you watch on television?"

[K]: "Haha, well, of course I watch [major cable network], haha!"

[X]: Silence.

[K]: "Erm...yes, and besides all of those fine quality shows, let's see, I watch LOST, The Office, 30 Rock, Project Runway. Those are probably my favorites. I also watch the news a lot, as I really like to keep up with everything that's happening, especially in politics."

[X]: "The news...I see."

[K]: "Uh...well, you know, because I worked in news, so...it's hard to...to break the habit, haha!"

[X]: Silence.

[K]: Quietly panicking.

[X]: "Now, what are your main websites? Where do you go every day to find out what's happening?"

[K]: "Oh! Well, MSNBC is my home page. I think it's really one of the best news websites. And I check the Drudge Report for breaking news. I generally read the New York Times online and most of the Washington Post online, depending on time. There are so many others, but those are kind of my mainstays."

[X]: "Hmm."

[K]: "Ye...yes?"

[X]: "You don't read Perez Hilton?"

NOTE: I read Perez Hilton EVERY DAY. 5000 TIMES A DAY. Along with People, Gawker, TMZ, the Daily Mail, DListed (thank you S!) and every single other gossip website that everyone reads but generally does not mention DURING A JOB INTERVIEW.

[K]: "Oh gosh, wow, well yes, I do - I...ha...I just didn't think I was supposed to mention that during an interview, ha, and- "

[X]: "Because I read Perez all day. I check him every 10-15 minutes, really."

[K]: "Me too! I mean, I do as well! I- "

[X]: "I find the internet very inspiring. The creativity really helps inspire me, and that's what I'm looking for in this department. I get really inspired by album cover art too. Really. Some of it is just genius."

[K]: "I...I know! There's so much creativity out there, you- "

[X]: "Perez is great."

[K]: "He IS great! He sometimes links to Wonkette, which is another favorite of mine. I also like TMZ a lot, they've always got the funniest stories."

[X]: Silence.

[K]: Nervous silence.

[X]: "TMZ is a little trashy, [K]."

[K]: "Erm." What?

[X]: "What I really need here in this department is someone who really knows what's out there, you know? Someone who is really aware of what's happening in the world, not just in the...'news'."

[K]: "I...yes, I completely agree, I- "

[X]: "We'll be in touch. Thanks."

Dial tone.

Well, in a panic and convinced that I had blown this interview - although unclear as to how, exactly - I tried to email [X] a lovely thank you. When I called the HR lady to ask for his email, she was all, "oh, you can just send it to me. I'll make sure he sees it. Mmm-hmm ok great thanks bye."

Needless to say...I never heard from them again.

In conclusion, here is a typical posting from Perez.

But TMZ? That's TRASHY.

Thursday, October 15, 2009

In which I am creepily asked about my dating status

Early on in my job search, I scored my first interview with a man who would, if I were hired, be my boss. The BIG boss. The boss of all the employees. (Not that there were many working for him, but the point is, he was the big cheese). I was interviewing for his main company, but he has this other side company also, and that's where he wanted me to come for the actual interview.

At night.

In an otherwise deserted shopping center. With empty, boarded-up storefronts.

In the middle of nowhere. I could hear coyotes howling nearby.

Also, I don't have a car. And all of the public transportation options I tried to find were all, "oh no WAY, we don't go that far out. Good luck, missy."

So I talked my wonderful friend Katie into driving me 45 miles away after work so that I could get to my first job interview. Poor Katie had had a horrible day of her own, but still agreed to drive my arse to a scary deserted shopping center while it got darker and darker outside.

Now, the man had said to me, "oh, I know it's after hours, but I'll be there and so will my office manager, and the building will still be unlocked, so you'll have no problem getting in." Those were, of course, all lies.

After pulling into the scary empty shopping center, I stood pulling at the locked door of the building while Katie sat in the car with the doors triple-locked. The door wouldn't budge. I pushed the call button next to the door. No one answered. I called the man to see if I was in the right place. No answer. Hmm.

This went on for about 20 minutes until a kindly gentleman who was leaving the building (unclear what he was doing in the nearly-deserted building in the first place, but whatever) let me in, and I finally made it upstairs and outside a second locked door leading to the seemingly empty office.

I called the man again...and again...and again. At this point, the interview was supposed to have started almost an hour ago. I finally got through to another employee, who told me that the man was on some kind of conference call and was supposedly driving over to the office now. Hooray. And then the office manager DID appear and let me in to the actual office. Double hooray.

The man FINALLY arrives and tells me he has to "take care of something" before the interview can start, and then disappears for another 20 minutes before reappearing looking extremely hassled and clutching his blackberry. I do not ask.

So, interview begins - approximately 80 minutes after I arrived. Also, Katie is still waiting in the car.

It soon becomes clear that this man is crazy. He is convinced that Twitter is "the future of the company" and that the reason the company hasn't had such a great year is due to the lack of adequate tweeting. At one point he mentions that if hired, I would be "the face" of the company. To which I replied, "oh, does that mean that you don't want to be a spokesperson?"

Man, looking at me like I've lost my mind: "Of course I'm the spokesperson. I AM the company."

Me: "Oh, I'm sorry, I guess I misunderstood - you would be the face, then?"

Man: "Excuse me? You are the face."

Me: "Ok...but not...but I wouldn't actually speak on behalf of...the company, then."

Man: "Well, you would do some interviews."

Me: "Oh, ok, so I would also be a spokesperson."

Man: "I AM THE SPOKESPERSON."

Me: "I...alright."

The man then mentions that they are looking to fill the position IMMEDIATELY, and also, that I would have to move. To another city. I'm ok with that, right? Like, perhaps I could start on Monday? That's IF I'm offered the job, of course, which hasn't been decided yet. But if offered, I could be in the new city on Monday, right?

Me: "Oh! Well...gosh, I mean, I would need to find a place to live, first."

Man: "You can't stay with a friend?"

Me: "Um, well, I would also have to figure out what to do with my current lease, here, and also, you know, move all of my stuff, and also I don't have a car. I would probably need a car. I'm, ha, you know, also a little hesitant to commit to moving right now, this city is sort of my home now and..."

Man: "Are you single?"

Me: "Erm...pardon?"

Man: "Are you single. Do you have a boyfriend?"

Me: "Um...ah, no, not...not right now."

Man: "Then there's nothing keeping you here then, huh?"

Me, inwardly: I...feel like I just took a bullet. Thank you.

Man: "There's a lot of single guys in [new city]."

Me: "Ha...ha...I'm...well, that's...good."

Man: "We'll find you someone. You won't be alone."

Me: "I...ok."

And thus ended the interview. Katie was thankfully still alive when I made it back to the scary parking lot and was the best sport ever about the whole thing.

A few days later I got a call from the man offering me the job, but due a hesitancy to move and numerous creepy feelings about the whole situation, I turned it down...at which point he got decidedly pissed and tried to bully me into taking it, but thankfully I stood my ground. "I've only been interviewing for a few weeks," I thought, "I'll have better options to choose from!"

HA. What an idiot I am.

It turns out, though, that the man ended up getting fired four months later, which means I would have been fired right along with him. So I would have given up my lease, moved to a new city of complete strangers, and STILL been unemployed.

But there WAS the promise of single men. Oh well.

Hello, internets!

Hello internets!

I haven't really attempted this whole "blogging" thing before, but I figure, you know, first time for everything. Also, I've got a lot of time on my hands these days.

Anyway, like many, many, MANY people out there, I lost my job this year. I've been going through the tricky, nerveracking and exhausting process of trying to find another one - obsessively checking job sites, sending out resumes, volunteering, searching for unpaid temporary jobs, awkwardly attending networking events only to find out that 97% of people there are also unemployed, calling up everyone I've ever met to see if they know of a job, any job, anywhere.

And then sometimes, one of these things actually works! And I get an interview somewhere! And I would say that roughly half of the people I've interviewed with have been perfectly pleasant and kind, and it unfortunately hasn't worked out in my favor - sometimes you're just not the right person for the job.

But the other half of my interviews have been terrible. TERRIBLE, I tell you. To the point where I almost believe that I'm being punked, and Ashton Kutcher is going to jump out at me from behind a potted plant in his trucker hat, even though I'm not at all famous, he stopped wearing trucker hats circa 2003, and that show isn't even on anymore.

I have to say that I'm grateful that I've even had any interviews at all - I know so many people that haven't gotten any yet. It's awful out there. But there is something particularly painful about getting super psyched about the possibility of actually landing a job again and then having it ALL COME CRASHING DOWN and leaving you in a mingled state of shock, despair and utter bewilderment.

So, instead of forcing my friends and family to listen to me rehash my terrible interviews over and over again, I thought I would just start writing it down. Surely there are other people out there who are going through the same experiences - maybe it would help if we all knew that we weren't alone. These ridiculous employers are sitting there, all smug because of their "jobs" and "steady income" and "ability to pay bills on time," and handing us poor souls some TERRIBLE, HORRIBLE, NO-GOOD, VERY BAD INTERVIEWS.

And so I present...Terrible Interviews.