“There,
there,” the Interviewer verbally patted the latest applicant on his shaking
shoulder. “You didn’t do that
terribly.”
The
applicant looked up sharply. “Does that
mean I got the job?”
“No. Off you go.”
The applicant slunk out to begin his search anew.
The
Interviewer sighed as she moved on to the next résumé: how was she supposed to
get any work done when she kept having to meet with people for randomly open
positions? She had the nagging feeling
that her increasingly backed-up work eventually would cause her own position to
randomly open as well.
She
quickly rescanned the résumé she had read some time earlier. Everything on the surface seemed to be in
order: no significant gaps, good experience, currently employed in the same
field. Maybe this would be The One, she
thought, then called her assistant to send Maybe The One in.
The
Interviewer stood as the Applicant threw open the door.
“Hi,”
the Applicant said, walking around the room a bit, “nice company you’ve got
here; I really like the décor.” She
closed the door behind her and plopped herself into the seat across from the
Interviewer’s desk, slouching a bit to get more comfortable.
The
Interviewer was loath to end a session just as it started, so she soldiered on
by sitting back down and attempting to regain control by introducing herself.
“Yes,
we spoke on the phone, my name is – ”
“I
remember who you are; you seemed nice,” the Applicant said as she rummaged
through her messenger bag, adding: “Feel free to sit, make yourself
comfortable.” The way in which she said
that compelled the Interviewer to do as suggested and she sat back down in her
chair.
Straightening
items on her desk to assert some semblance of authority, the Interviewer tried
again: “So, what led you to apply to our company?”
“I
need money and you guys have a lot of it.”
“Yes,
well, besides that – ”
“Aha! Here we go.”
The Applicant whipped out a packet of papers and sat straighter in the
chair. “Right, let’s get started,” she
said, glancing at the packet and then back at the Interviewer.
“Excuse
me?”
Ignoring
that, the Applicant continued: “You’ve read my résumé, you called me in because
you are seriously considering having me work for you guys, my first question is
this: what’s in it for me?”
“I,
uh, what?”
“Aside
from the salary, which obviously needs to be negotiated upward, why should I,
with multitudes of life options, want to devote a good chunk of my waking hours
and caring about something other than myself to your company?”
“Well,
we have good benefits – ”
“Define
‘good.’”
“Medical,
dental, vision; plus three weeks’ vacation a year.”
The
Applicant was scribbling furiously on the packet. “Go on: retirement plan?”
“Yes,
a 403b.”
“Hm.” She tapped her pen against her chin. “I’m always a bit leery when it’s not an
`01k.”
“It’s
practically the same thing.”
“‘Practically’
is not ‘equal to.’ No matter: moving on
to day-to-day operations. What is the
lay of the land around the office?”
“Um,
let’s see, you’d be working in a cubicle, so you’d have some privacy, but we
have daily meetings within our department.”
Scribble-scribble. “Uh-huh.
And who makes up this department?”
“Oh,
there’re about 10 people – ”
“No-no-no,
I mean what types of people make up the department? Who’s the slacker, who’s the alpha – clearly not
you – ” the Interviewer ground her teeth, “who’s the workaholic, who’s the
alcoholic, who’s the drama queen, who’s the underminer, are these all actually
the same person, I need names!”
“I
can introduce you to everyone later – ”
“That’s
fine.” The Applicant flipped ahead a few
pages. “Here’s a good one: I always
clock in five minutes late – it’s not intentional, it just is – and I always
clock out five minutes late, will that be a problem?”
The
Interviewer thought about the three employees who clocked in 15 minutes late
every day and sat around at their end of their shifts; her continuous docking
of their pay had no effect whatsoever. “Well,
no, if you’re working the eight hours, five minutes won’t make much difference.”
“Good
– it’s not as if we’re needed on time to start surgery here, am-I-right?”
“I
suppose.”
The
Applicant flipped to the end of her packet.
“Ah, this one: what would you say are your three greatest strengths and
three greatest weaknesses?”
“I
really should be the one asking you that,” the Interviewer replied.
“Let’s
agree to disagree.” The Applicant sped
read the last page. “Where do you see
yourself in five years?”
“I’m
supposed to be asking you that!”
“I
asked you first.”
Fair
enough. “All right, I see myself right
here as I am now.”
The
Applicant began writing again: “Not – much – ambition – ”
“Where
do you see yourself in five years?”
The Interviewer snapped, then thought, “Please don’t say ‘At your desk
with your title.’”
The
Applicant did not look up from writing. “In
the job I have right now.”
“Oh…
what?”
The
Applicant finished, put her materials away, and stood. “Yes, this has all been lovely; thank you
very much for your time; you’ve been a great interviewer.” She held out her hand and the Interviewer
automatically stood and shook it.
“Wait
a minute, you’re not actually interested in the position?”
“No,
I’m not. Was that unclear?”
“Extremely! Why did you apply and come in for an
interview then?”
“I
like to keep my skills sharp. Oh, before
I forget,” she reached into her suit jacket pocket, pulled out a pin, and
handed it to the Interviewer. “You’re my
500th.”
A
response seemed to be expected. “Thank
you?”
“Not
at all,” the Faux Applicant said on her way out, “I love meeting new people!” The door closed gently behind her.
The
Interviewer stared at the 500th pin and mused on how one certainly
does learn something new every day.
