Swab me, baby. Swab me anytime.
The interview—a Monday afternoon. Quiet, slushy, rainy. I was relaxed.
Let me tell you, nothing will relax you for an interview quite like another interview beforehand.
Er.
Okay, so I was two-timing my interviewers. One was in the morning at nine, the other in the afternoon at three. The nine o’clock interview was down at the county courthouse.
I was ushered through security, shown up to the office, and sat down with two women who were (respectively) older and much older than I. My dress was appropriate, I took notes, I asked questions—I ended up having a ball. The ladies were these great, professional gals (one could’ve been my Mom—maybe that’s why it was so easy to talk to her). They told me all about the job, gushed about the Judge I’d possibly be working for, cackled and cawed and chatted—and I was fighting the urge to bust out a Terry Pratchett reference, because I swear the older of them was a really nice version of Granny Weatherwax. I talked a bit about myself, handed over my references, all that jazz. We hit it off. The work sounded really interesting.
It was like going to an interview day spa.
My fears of the demanding bossman with jowls like a bulldog slamming into the room and demanding that I justify both my existence and wasting his precious time—they vanished in a lovely, misty haze. We talked about the atmosphere. My headache stopped. We talked about my service philosophy. My back pain was alleviated. We talked about opportunities for advancement. My sinuses cleared. Ahh.
They said they’d make their decision by Friday.
When it was over, I felt great, went right home, and wrote two thank-you emails. (I didn’t have a clue how to send actual cards fast enough without making the drive again and dropping them off in person.)
I ran a few errands, had lunch, touched up my makeup (managing to make a striking and semi-bizarre eyeshadow statement—by the time I realized it didn’t work, it was too late—I blotted, smudged, and hit the door). I got turned around on the way to the interview and almost didn’t make it—but then I did.
The three o’clock interview was with a non-scam (I checked, oh boy did I check) benefits company. The receptionist was nice. The office manager and the coordinator were nice. I filled out a formal paper application. We chatted. They took notes.
Neither could’ve been much older than I was. I asked them how long they’d both been at the company—they told me three and four years, but they mentioned others that had been there much longer. I told them my greatest strength (I chose follow-through/tenacity) and greatest weakness (I picked ‘I let myself get frustrated sometimes’—and yes, I will argue with the articles that suggest you spin this question so that you say nothing bad about yourself whatsoever—obviously you don’t want to answer with ‘My cocaine habit’—but people are not stupid—don’t walk in and give them some BS line like ‘I don’t always allow myself to be proud of my achievements’—okay, that’s a different rant for a different time). I felt the interview was going decently, but not amazingly well or anything.
They asked if I had time. I did. I took a test on Microsoft Excel knowledge (did better than I remembered) and a personality profile. Then there was a short IQ-type test. Analogies and such. I had an AP Lit flashback.
When they were finally done with me, two hours had gone by and they were shutting up shop. They mentioned that they were early in their interview process. They said they’d call.
Yeah, I thought. That’s what I used to tell my Ex. I can smell a kiss-off.
But we shook hands and parted nicely. I got Chinese food, went home, and felt very accomplished over my egg drop soup. I’d done all right, I thought. At no point did I blurt out anything obviously crazy. I can do a few more of these.
They called the next day.
The benefits people set an appointment for Wednesday morning. I was to come in and meet with The Dude. They didn’t tell me he was The Dude, though, they just gave me a name. Foolish me had no clue.
I came in this morning. I met with The Dude. The Dude was civil. Seemed decent. Reminded me of an Uncle of mine. Asked me what I’d been doing lately, how did I think I worked best, was I interested in the job, why did I go to Florida for four months (ahh, Florida—that’s an entry, too). It was dry. There was no rapport happening. I was more nervous than I wanted to be.
They came in with a drug test.
Huh, I thought. Okay. I guess the tests are getting cheaper to run and all. They’re probably giving them to all their applicants. I tucked the swab in my cheek and twiddled my thumbs for three minutes. The HR lady sealed up my swab, labeled it, had me sign something, and left.
I sat alone for about a minute.
They came back with a job offer.
Same money I was making at the other company. Better hours. Better benefits (they are a benefits company). I don’t have to be covered in ointment all day. Pending the results of the drug test and background check—which I know I will pass, unless someone in Minnesota is using my identity to rob banks or something—I’ve got the job. They’ll get back in touch with me when the test and check come in to set a start date.
So… I guess I’m employed, y’all.
I’M EMPLOYED!
Congratulations! two times over!
That first interview was a great one. That's what they're supposed to be like -- a conversation. It's a time when you both are figuring out whether the atmosphere and the personalities will work while you're doing your work -- the stuff that you like to do and do well and therefore get paid to do. Oh, yes, and you do it in order to alleviate the work burdens on your boss.
Sounds to me as though you've got what it takes to appeal to any age group. And it sounds as though you made a great impression.
Fantastic!
One point that you raised was mailing thank you cards. The greatest strategy that I've heard employed is for candidates to get some business cards (they're only $25 for hundreds at office supply stores and you can even get them for free on-line) and hand a business card to each person with whom you interview. The card can just have your name, address, phone number, and email address on it.
The point of handing the card over isn't really to give them a card. It is so that they'll give you their card. Now you know that you have the correct spelling of their name, email address, etc.
As soon as the interview is over, find a park bench, front seat of your car, wherever and write out your thank you notes. Bring the blank notes and pre-stamped envelopes with you so that you can immediately write them out. Then find the nearest mailbox or post office with pick-up later that day and drop the thank you notes. They'll be delivered the next day. Think of the impression that will make!