An End: Part 1

A few weeks ago I applied to an internal job posting for an Analyst position in the downtown office. It was a position for which I was qualified and was something more in line with the type of job I’d been seeking a year and a half ago when this whole saga began. In fact, I’d sought this very position during my initial job search, as well as another time after that, and had been turned down on each occasion. Not only did I apply each of those times, I actually went through the gauntlet of full interviews before ultimately being passed over. Thus, it was with little optimism and even less expectation that I now submitted my application for a third time.

Within a few days I was contacted by HR to schedule an initial phone interview. Because I couldn’t trust having a private, discreet conversation in the branch, I thought it best to schedule the call during my lunch break, when I would be alone in my car parked at the end of the deserted street where I ate each day at 11:30. Thinking about and planning around my lack of privacy at work and my depressing lunch routine produced a self-image so discomforting that I couldn’t hold my head up during the phone call.

On the day of my interview, I called in at 11:30 as requested and a lady and I began the boilerplate Q and A typical to most interviews. My initial hope had been to establish something resembling a conversation, but that idea was quickly derailed by my interviewer’s apparent lack of interest in the proceedings. I’m not sure if she had somewhere else to be or was simply that bored, but the interview felt like a timed exercise. She offered no more than a few dry words of feedback to each of my responses before moving to the next question on the list from which she was clearly reading. With each answer she deadpanned, I delivered the next with slightly less conviction until before long the two of us were virtually working together to end this experience as quickly as possible.

I was not naive to the fact that since I was an internal candidate, my interview may have been granted simply as a courtesy and her behavior to this point had done nothing to alleviate that concern. We finally came to the merciful end of the questioning and I wasn’t sure what to do.

Lastly, the lady asked, “Well, do you have anything else to say?”.

She said it in the same manner you’d question a child about an ill-advised move in a board game. I’d assumed the lady had been dying to get off the phone, but she had now passed up a clear path to do so. There was pity in her voice, as though she was asking if that was really how I’d wanted the interview to go. She seemed almost curious as to whether I had any fight or dignity to offer before she chalked me up as the most undeserving candidate she’d ever interviewed.

I could attribute what happened next to several things. Maybe it was the sandwich in my lap, reminding me that I ate lunch in my car everyday. Or maybe it was Rossi Road, the undeveloped, deserted street I parked on each day that provided an almost too-perfect amount of symbolism to my life. Or maybe it was this lady calling me out, raising an eyebrow and basically asking if I had any balls whatsoever. I just know that when she asked me that last question with that judgemental tone in her words, it lit a fire under my ass. Every excruciating story I’d experienced in the last year and half ran through my head in a montage of depression and anger. I was better than this and now this bitch was asking if I could prove it.

“Listen,” that’s right, I told her to listen, “I understand how I may rank on paper compared to the other candidates you are interviewing, but let me explain a few things. My guess is that while you may not have specifically said this, you’re mostly interested in finding someone who can do the job, who will fit in well with your people and who really wants this position. Is that fair to say?”.

“Generally speaking, yes”.

“Well let me tell you that if asked, everyone you speak with is going to go into great detail about how they are all three of those things, as they should. But in reality, only one of those things can actually be proven. The only thing an outside hired can prove is experience. Now, as far experience goes, I can’t make that up. I probably don’t have as much experience as some of the other candidates. But, what I do have are those other two elements, the ones no one else can prove. I have a proven record of fitting in with our company’s culture and proof of how bad I want this job. I’ve worked with the company for a year and a half and get along great with the people I work with. My best work friend is a middle-aged Iraqi women. Think about that. If that doesn’t demonstrate who I can get along with, I don’t know what would. Also, I have interviewed for this very position twice before. But, that’s not because I interview for every internal position that comes along. In a year and a half, I have only applied for this position because I want this job. I don’t know how, but I am sure HR can pull those records if you want to see for yourself. I took my current position for the sole purpose of lining me up for the job you are offering. I have nothing against my current role or the people who want to do it their whole life, but I don’t plan on being in this branch forever. I am capable of more and am ready to prove it. So I am telling you now, I want the job. What I lack in experience, I more than make up for in drive. So again, I want this job. Give me the opportunity and I’ll make us both look good”.

Or at least that’s what I remember of it. I had scribbled a few bullets points beforehand but had never actually said any of them aloud. I like to believe that given the circumstances, a piece of my subconscious decided this was too important to screw up, called an audible and took over for a few minutes. Every note I’d made came out of my mouth in an articulate pattern, woven into a clear message that I was hearing for the first time. While I can’t say that I sounded brilliant, I knew my little diatribe had sounded pretty good and was well received by the lady on the other end of the line.

“OK, well good. I’m…I’m glad you said that” she said. “I still have a few other people to talk to, but let me review a few things and I think we’ll be able to get back to you middle of next week”.

From there we did the typical over-thanking and good-byes, though I don’t remember exactly what was said. I was on a bit of a high from what had just seemed like a big moment. I was rethinking what had happened, both thankful the words had come to me and curious from where they had come.

True to her word, I received a call from HR the following Wednesday informing me that I had advanced to the second round of interviews, which we needed to now schedule. When asked of my availability, I said I was wide open, except for Mondays. We settled on the following Thursday and the HR lady explained I would be meeting with several people throughout the morning so I should plan on being there about two to three hours.

I hung up the phone, feeling like I’d won something but also knowing I’d won nothing. I wanted to be proud of myself for the effort I’d put forth on the phone interview, but knew it wasn’t very much to be proud of. I’d smooth talked my way through a first round phone interview for a position for which I was qualified. That was all.

I walked into David’s office and told him about my upcoming interview with absolute indifference. I wasn’t sure if I was required to tell him at this point or not, but I just didn’t care enough to lie about where I would be next Thursday. He took the news well. In fact, he took it too well. He acted so OK with the situation, that it was clear he was exaggerating his behavior. I guessed he was taking it personally, as if I were trying to get away from him. I wanted to put him at ease and explain that it was the job I had to get away from, not him, but that wouldn’t have sounded much better either. Instead, I just remained quiet and answered the generic questions he felt he should ask.