I recently went on a job interview and given the current economic climate and the utter lack of jobs in my studied field of studies, I was a little stoked. And then I got there.
First of all, the woman I was to interview with was “so slammed” she didn’t have room in her schedule to fit in our scheduled interview, or so I was told by the pasty, lank of a girl that stood in for her. Now, I’m no expert but when some temp that was hired three weeks ago from the community college across the street “stands in” for her boss I think it’s all downhill from that point.
Despite this, I forged ahead. It was a pretty standard interview; she stuck to the pre-prepared questions (which I knew would totally give her super-slammed-superior a proper sampling of my personality and relevant qualifying experiences). To be honest, I didn’t want the job three seconds after we sat down and I was explained the specifics of the position’s duties. Any employer that lists the handling of “poop” (yes, “poop,” they couldn’t even be bothered to use a tidier word for it) as a potential proviso can show me the nearest exit so I may pound down what’s left in my flask of bourbon in wild, spastic, suffocating gulps. I don’t do poop.
What’s even more offensive is that being asked how I feel about poop wasn’t the worst part of the interview. That happened when the stand-in twit was looking through the painstakingly laborious “professional portfolio” I created as a part of my senior internship. She came across a research paper I had written exploring the debate between childhood vaccinations and autism. Because both of those issues were closely related to the job it was particularly interesting to her. When asked what my position was I eloquently explained that after reviewing copious amounts of research I was not entirely convinced vaccines could be considered a leading cause of autism. And, that’s when it happened. As I sat waiting for her reaction, pleased with my explanation and sure she would be impressed too, she said, “Oh my god, you don’t! I do, you’re NOT hired!” She said that. Out loud. Of course, right after she said she was “totally kidding” and with a flip of her hair she said she would give my information to her super-slammed-superior for review.
I haven’t heard back from them, which is all right with me ’cause I don’t take shit from no one.
