When I opened up a letter for a job interview yesterday, I figured the universe had read my blog and was taking pity on me. Not so. Instead, it was amused by rantings and decided to extend my suffering.
About 4 months ago I applied to a firm based solely on the name, never actually expecting to hear anything from them in return. Well, I now have an interview scheduled with Klutz & Reamer, LLP.
I mean, I'm really at a loss here. How exactly do I tell them I applied solely because they have an absolutely ridiculous name? Can I get some suggestions on this? I've got about two and half weeks to figure this out.
The best (worst?) part is that I'll be meeting the partners, so I'll actually be shaking hands with Mr. Klutz and Mr. Reamer while trying to maintain eye contact. I honestly don't think it's possible to say "It's my pleasure, Reamer" without laughing hysterically. Hell, I'm laughing just typing it. This could be bad.
One bright spot: If I do land the job, I might be able to institute a gesture unique to the company that its members can use as a show of force. Since we sound so much like "Clutch & Ream Her," I envision grabbing a pair of imaginary hips in front of you while pulling back hard on them. Kind of like the crotch-chop (one of my personal favorites), but more graphic. It's fun, try it! Now imagine it in a suit.
Sounds ridiculous? Take it up with my friends... Klutz & Reamer.
Friday, July 27, 2007
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Job Interviews
Job interviews are God's way of punishing us. They remind us, over and over, what pathetic and miserable little creatures we truly are. As a young man fresh out of grad school (straight through from undergrad), I'm getting my first taste of the pain that job-seeking humans have known for generations. Any excitement in the ultimate goal of the process (i.e. getting the job) has to be weighed against the inevitable embarrassment, anger, and frustration the process creates regardless of whether the goal is reached.
Let me break down the typical interview. Where else can we begin except with the obligatory awkward greeting? There's nothing like going to the negotiation table when the other side is holding virtually all the cards. "Hi, I'm Brian. I'm here to interview for this position. You can count on me to massage your balls for the next thirty to forty minutes. Frank? It's good to meet you, Frank." You can bet your bottom dollar that Frank's balls have been waiting for this all day.
Now that my prostitution is transparent, we can slide right into (so to speak) the "So tell me about yourself" moment, included in every interview on this planet and probably elsewhere. My favorite aspect of this segment is that your honesty is inversely related to your chance of actually landing the job. In truth, most of us do one, maybe two hours of actual work on any given day of our lives. The rest of the time is split between television, sleeping, relaxing, chilling, hanging out, chillaxing, taking it easy, Internet porn, and compulsively counting objects in our environment. Despite the well-known fact that your interviewers spend their days the same way, it's not prudent to try to sympathize on this point. Trust me.
Unfortunately, after so many interviews, the filter between your mind and the interviewer erodes and you start to let things slip. For instance, I literally just completed an interview less than an hour ago; thus the inspiration for this blog. When the interviewer asked what my proudest achievement was, my response was simply, "Well, just making it this far, really." Direct, honest, to the point - what's not to admire? Everything, apparently, since the interviewer responded with an extended "mmmmmmmmmhmmmmmmmmmmm..." and moved on to the next question. But I couldn't have been more honest with him. When you think about it, being alive for this long IS your greatest achievement. Just don't count on Mr. Interviewer to split your cake with you.
If there was a living to be made on interpreting "interview-speak" then I would be a millionaire. Interviews are consistently degrading, yet their consistently allows certain patterns to emerge that I've picked up on over the years. All of us are familiar with "don't call us, we'll call you." But I've expanded on that euphemism and am pleased to offer you this valuable phrasebook, which will go far in clarifying seemingly ambiguous language.
If the interviewer says... "Welcome. Thank you for coming here."
He means: "I hope you brought your kneepads."
If the interviewer says... "What have you been up to lately?"
He means: "Tell me what it's like to not have a job. I'm morbidly curious."
If the interviewer says... "What attracted you to our company?"
He means: "Please remind me why I first made this terrible, terrible mistake."
If the interviewer says... "What's your minimum starting salary?"
He means: "I'm no longer interested in this process and will let the numbers do the choosing."
If the interviewer says... "Would you care to go to lunch with us?"
He means: "I blew my last $20 last night on blackjack, but I've still got the company card."
If the interviewer says... "Tell me about your work at [prior job]."
He means: "You're going to tell me it was important and enjoyable, and yet you're here in my office. Hmm."
If the interviewer says... "We're interviewing a bunch of people for this position."
He means: "We just narrowed it down by one."
If the interviewer says... "It was a pleasure meeting you."
He means: "I'm going to highlight your name, but in black."
If the interviewer says... "Do you mind if I invite some of my colleagues along?"
He means: "What a fucking moron! My friends won't believe this."
If the interviewer says... "You're hired!"
He means: N/A.
Let me break down the typical interview. Where else can we begin except with the obligatory awkward greeting? There's nothing like going to the negotiation table when the other side is holding virtually all the cards. "Hi, I'm Brian. I'm here to interview for this position. You can count on me to massage your balls for the next thirty to forty minutes. Frank? It's good to meet you, Frank." You can bet your bottom dollar that Frank's balls have been waiting for this all day.
Now that my prostitution is transparent, we can slide right into (so to speak) the "So tell me about yourself" moment, included in every interview on this planet and probably elsewhere. My favorite aspect of this segment is that your honesty is inversely related to your chance of actually landing the job. In truth, most of us do one, maybe two hours of actual work on any given day of our lives. The rest of the time is split between television, sleeping, relaxing, chilling, hanging out, chillaxing, taking it easy, Internet porn, and compulsively counting objects in our environment. Despite the well-known fact that your interviewers spend their days the same way, it's not prudent to try to sympathize on this point. Trust me.
Unfortunately, after so many interviews, the filter between your mind and the interviewer erodes and you start to let things slip. For instance, I literally just completed an interview less than an hour ago; thus the inspiration for this blog. When the interviewer asked what my proudest achievement was, my response was simply, "Well, just making it this far, really." Direct, honest, to the point - what's not to admire? Everything, apparently, since the interviewer responded with an extended "mmmmmmmmmhmmmmmmmmmmm..." and moved on to the next question. But I couldn't have been more honest with him. When you think about it, being alive for this long IS your greatest achievement. Just don't count on Mr. Interviewer to split your cake with you.
If there was a living to be made on interpreting "interview-speak" then I would be a millionaire. Interviews are consistently degrading, yet their consistently allows certain patterns to emerge that I've picked up on over the years. All of us are familiar with "don't call us, we'll call you." But I've expanded on that euphemism and am pleased to offer you this valuable phrasebook, which will go far in clarifying seemingly ambiguous language.
If the interviewer says... "Welcome. Thank you for coming here."
He means: "I hope you brought your kneepads."
If the interviewer says... "What have you been up to lately?"
He means: "Tell me what it's like to not have a job. I'm morbidly curious."
If the interviewer says... "What attracted you to our company?"
He means: "Please remind me why I first made this terrible, terrible mistake."
If the interviewer says... "What's your minimum starting salary?"
He means: "I'm no longer interested in this process and will let the numbers do the choosing."
If the interviewer says... "Would you care to go to lunch with us?"
He means: "I blew my last $20 last night on blackjack, but I've still got the company card."
If the interviewer says... "Tell me about your work at [prior job]
He means: "You're going to tell me it was important and enjoyable, and yet you're here in my office. Hmm."
If the interviewer says... "We're interviewing a bunch of people for this position."
He means: "We just narrowed it down by one."
If the interviewer says... "It was a pleasure meeting you."
He means: "I'm going to highlight your name, but in black."
If the interviewer says... "Do you mind if I invite some of my colleagues along?"
He means: "What a fucking moron! My friends won't believe this."
If the interviewer says... "You're hired!"
He means: N/A.
"Herro... Arec Bardwin."
Hi! I made this journal to complement my more serious blog, cleverly entitled "A Floydian Slip," which you can find at http://gbe-afs.blogspot.com. Like that column, there's no rhyme or reason to any of these posts. These entries, not unlike your mom, will come when they're good and ready. By the way, if you don't appreciate mom jokes, now is the time to hit that "Back" button on your browser. You've been warned. And yes, I'll be making gratuitous use of the word "entries."
I plan on updating this blog whenever something funny strikes me (since I so rarely strike something funny). It should be a nice change of pace from "A Floydian Slip," which is best read when playing "Edward Fortyhands" with two bottles of malt liquor taped to your palms. In the immortal words of your mom, you're going to love this.
I plan on updating this blog whenever something funny strikes me (since I so rarely strike something funny). It should be a nice change of pace from "A Floydian Slip," which is best read when playing "Edward Fortyhands" with two bottles of malt liquor taped to your palms. In the immortal words of your mom, you're going to love this.
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