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.