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.