The Worst Interview Ever

I don't think it is any secret that I'm currently looking for employment that doesn't involve using a four year college degree to stock baby food all night. I have had a few interviews, some promising, some selling insurance. But yesterday, I had, pardon the necessary hyperbole, the worst interview ever! The interview was in the QC. The only problem with that being I worked two hours away overnight the night before. Then, after the 4:00 interview, I would need to travel back two hours to work last night's night shift. As I wake up yesterday, my mom, who wins mom of they year, says, "Why don't I drive you back and forth from the QC, so you can read Harry Potter?" She is a shining example to mom's everywhere. So the day starts much better than I thought it would. It's about noon thirty, and we're heading towards my apartment. We pull into town, I shower and change into my spiffy suit, drop off my mom, and I head towards the interview.

Here is where the retail gods put down their wrath in an attempt to make sure I stay hooked. First off, one of the roads necessary to transport from my apartment to the headquarters building I headed to generally takes one, maybe two minutes to travel. That is unless there is some random bit of construction and an obscene amount of cars. There really was no reason for me to plan for that scenario, as it has never happened...until yesterday. I'm stuck in traffic, wearing a suit, sweating because that's what I do, and thinking to myself, "I'd much rather be doing something else right now." Finally, traffic breaks free; I'm cruising. I get a good three to four minutes of top notch 60 mile per hour driving in, when I hit the back of another construction related stop. This is when I started to feel annoyed.

I continue waiting out construction and follow the directions emailed me to me by the company I intended to interview for and eventually got to the location required. Normally I like to be ten to fifteen minutes early for an interview, but I made it by five minutes, which suffices if not otherwise thrills. I walk up to the guard's desk, glancing at my sheet of paper with directions that says, "walk to the guard's desk and ask for So and So." I ask for So and So. The guard looks at me like I kicked her in the stomach, which by the end of the following exchange, which took fifteen minutes, I wanted to:

"You are looking for So and So So So?"
"No. I have an interview with So and So."
"Oh, so you are meeting with Marv?"
"No. I have an interview with So and So."
"I see, let's see if I can find Luke in the directory."
"No. I have an interview with So and So."
"I've never heard of this Paul character."
"Oh really? Well let's try looking up So and So."

On and on it went. The guard must have inadvertently trapped herself in a glass tube that vanquished all outside sounds and/or prevented the understanding of two syllable names. I eventually give her another name to look up, which generates a similar ten minute conversation like the one above and she calls directory assistance. She calls the person who sent me the directions I have in my hands, clearly stating for me to be standing right where I am, and that person says, "Aah shucks, maybe he was supposed to go to the other building." Now, the headquarters building I stood in sits in a beautiful wooded area. The guard then says I needed to go the smaller building right behind this building and meet my interviewer. She then starts to give me directions but first decides to call over another guard to help. They didn't take turns helping, but rather they both started talking and pointing and mentioning street names I didn't know in an attempt to make my brain shut off and cause my body to fall to the floor in a clump.

I leave the building and start driving in an attempt to find this other building. I call the person who set up the interview and sent me the original wildly incorrect directions, and she apologized and called the interviewer explaining her error. I finally show up where I need to be at 4:30. The only problem? My interviewer has a Very Important Sales Call at 5:00, so he rushes through the interview. His rushing included, but was not limited to: answering his cellphone three times; asking if I had any questions while he stood up and walked me out; skipping over several questions while muttering, "eh, don't like that one anyway;" not reading questions in their entirety but simply saying, "relationships, thoughts?;" and asking the illegal question, "so what personal reasons are you needing to relocate to the QC?"

30 minutes after this debacle, I was back in my car. I fought construction delays back to my apartment, picked up My Mother and My Lady, and went to eat a delicious, yet not soul soothing taco salad. Two and a half hours later, we were back in My Hometown, where I had to quickly change clothes for work and immediately leave. I then proceeded to stock bras and panties and pants all night. Good times.

On a positive note, the four hours of drive time allowed me enough time to finish Harry Potter, which leads to my next blog...