An End: Part 2

On the following Thursday, I followed typical interview-day protocol. I arrived early, but not too early. I was cordial with the receptionist, but wasn’t overly fake or hokey. I tried to look relaxed and self-assured, without looking like a dick.

Shortly after 9am, I met the lady with whom I’d had the phone interview. She was awkward and she was strange in ways that are hard to explain which, I guess, is the very thing that made her both awkward and strange. She wasn’t mean, but she definitely wasn’t nice. She spoke to you as though there were several other things on her mind, yet she didn’t miss a word you said. Her conversational timing seemed to be slightly off, giving the impression that she was on a two-second sound delay. She also appeared to react with the wrong facial expressions, as if she had gotten mixed up about which one was appropriate to use.

She informed me that I’d only be meeting with three people today, as the HR coordinator had made an error in the scheduling and hadn’t checked the calendars of the correct people. This was great news. I knew I would need to pitch a near-perfect game today, so I figured the fewer the people I spoke with, the less chance there was that I would be discovered as a fraud. Perhaps fraud is a bit strong. Under-experienced is probably more appropriate. The information on my resume technically qualified me for the interview, however, I lacked any direct experience related to this position, so if that is what they were adamant about, I was sunk. My only chance was to rattle off some inspired bullshit and hope some of it stuck. The fewer people I had to rattle it to, the better.

The first interview was a softball, as it was with two guys about my age who would be my direct co-workers. We hit it off well enough, which I think was the point, and basically spent the time discussing several things outside of the actual job. I imagined their only concern was that if their new co-worker wasn’t going to be a hot chick, then at least be a guy they got along with. I felt comfortable I had won their vote.

Next, and ultimately last, was the Head of the Commercial Lending group. I knew exactly who he was due to his high-ranking in the company and although he and I had never spoke, I had heard plenty about him. He had a solid reputation and was a genuinely nice, well-liked guy. He was also a complete gubber. He was a country bumpkin at heart, but with enough brains to prove smarter than he appeared. That combination created a subtle charm that made him appear grounded and impressive at the same time. He was clearly doing something right, given his relatively young age for his position. He was also clearly a guy’s guy, which made him the best hand I could have been dealt.

After our initial interview banter, I went into my rehearsed spiel, the same one I’d delivered over the phone the previous week. This time it was much more polished and came out like poetry. I didn’t think he was as concerned about my immediate skills as he was about simply liking me, and on that I delivered in spades. I gave him a sample of humility, drive and determination while also working in some college football talk. He wasn’t a hard guy to get along with. After I gave him my closing arguments and we shook hands, he walked me out to the reception area.

Before leaving, I was met again by the awkward lady. She walked me to the exit as a formality and in stride I restated my selling points once again, feeling the need to pour everything I could into my brief window of interview time. She responded with only a faint smile and I assumed she was either tired of hearing my pitch or simply wasn’t paying attention. As always, we over-thanked each other and she said I should hear something by Monday or Tuesday. I told her goodbye and left.

The morning had been underwhelming. I’d faced only one real interview after I had anticipated as many five or six. I realized it was silly to be concerned that an interview had felt too easy, but that’s how I felt. I knew nothing had gone badly, but there wasn’t really enough substance to say things had gone well either, so I left feeling no more sure than when I arrived.

Monday came and went without any news, so by Tuesday morning I was getting restless. Come mid-afternoon I was on pins and needles and my heart sank each time the phone rang. I’d had an entire weekend and now nearly two full work days to think about my situation and though it did me no good, all I could focus on was what it would mean if I didn’t get the job. I reexamined the previous two occasions on which I’d interviewed for this position. Each of those respective times, I had been able to craft some justification for why I’d not been chosen. Unfortunately, there were now no ways left to spin the story. I had taken my present position in order to move on to something else, plain and simple. But if this attempt came up short, it would solidify my fear that I was at a dead-end with absolutely zero room to turn around or proceed forward. And while the year and half I’d been here could only be viewed as sunk costs at this point, I was trying to maintain hope that my time would prove to have some investment value. The phone call I was waiting on would confirm if that were the case.

On Wednesday I sat at my desk trying not to think about it. No call had come on Tuesday and in this case, no news was bad news. In most aspects of life, good news comes quick. In work, relationships, anything really, people are excited to share good news, so they typically don’t waste any time getting it out. It’s the bad news that gets delayed. We look at it forwards and backwards and toil over how best to deliver it all while hoping it may magically go away. That’s just how it works. We give ourselves time to think it through and prepare for telling someone something they do not want to hear. That is what I was thinking about on Wednesday. I was thinking about what she was going to say and what it was going to sound like. I was thinking about how I would feel when the news was finally delivered. I was thinking about what I was going to do when I hung up the phone and had to figure out what to do next. Even now, waiting in my own little purgatory of not knowing provided some level of comfort as it meant those worries weren’t yet my reality. But once that call came, it would all become real. I knew it did me no good to be in this emotional limbo, but I wanted it to last as long as possible because I didn’t know how I would handle the alternative.

The news finally came around 3:30 that afternoon, but fortunately, it wasn’t bad. Instead, the call I received from the HR lady was to extend me a formal offer. I had picked up the line shaking, prepared for the worst, fully convinced of my fate. Oddly, as she went over the details, the only question that came to mind was why the news had come late, but I didn’t bothered to ask. When she had finished speaking, all I could do was thank her, even though she’d really had nothing to do with it. I just sat at my desk listening and allowed the anxiety to exit my mind.

My thoughts quickly shifted from the terrifying “what-if”s to the more immediate “what now”s. Like many people do in these situations, I’d prepared myself by anticipating the worst so that it would come as no surprise. By late Tuesday, I had gotten well past the mind tricks and was so sure of the impending bad news that I’d let go of even the smallest degree of hope. Because of that, I was now experiencing legitimate surprise and couldn’t think of what to do next.

My new job started in two weeks and would coincide with the first day of the new year. I needed to tell David, and everyone else for that matter, but opted to remain quiet for the time being. For the remainder of the day I blissfully did nothing, ignoring any and all work duties while directing any customers over to Sonya. It was the first time I had actually been happy inside these walls and I decided to let the moment linger for as long as possible. I was able to breathe deeply and mentally hold a middle finger to the place that had been a source of such agony.

In retrospect, it was a tiny victory, but in my little world, at that moment, it meant everything. I had made it out, finally. I no longer had to worry about hitting numbers at this job I loathed and no longer had to contemplate what I would do if I’d gotten fired. Although I’m not sure how close I ever was to getting axed, management made it feel like it was an everyday possibility.

Ultimately, I’d been lucky. I was lucky to have said the right thing in my phone interview and I was lucky the following week when the other interviews had been mis-scheduled. I was lucky to have lasted this long at the branch despite awful sales numbers. I was lucky for a lot of things, but I didn’t care. I figured I was due. I finally allowed myself to feel proud. I was proud of the win, although I knew it wasn’t much to brag about. I’d pulled out a last second win in a game that never should have been that close to begin with. I was essentially back to even, having spent the past year and a half in the red. It was a small, silly victory, but it was mine, finally.