unemployable
I had a job interview. Really. The place that rejected me last time got in touch about another position. So I filled the same application form again, fretting over whether I'd replicated the information correctly: did I really say, on the first form, that I'd written and directed The Shining? Of course I did; don't I always? They never check these things.
For the interview I wore a suit. Although I kept reassuring myself that this was normal, it is so unusual for me that I felt freakish. I felt that people were pointing and laughing (even more than usual).
I'm not going to say where it was. I'm not making that mistake again. Let's just say that it's a top secret government organisation. A woman led me down to the interview room, through deserted corridors. A table tennis table (unmanned) added to the institutional air. The interview was informal, friendly, and at times I even had the idea that it was all going rather well. Only later did I realise some of the things I'd said.
On reflection, when they asked: 'Why did you apply for this job?', I probably shouldn't have said: 'Because the voices in my head told me to.' And when they asked: 'What can you bring to the workplace?', 'Syphilis' was possibly not the response they were seeking.
But at the time they laughed, so it was hard to tell. If they call again, it will be to invite me to a second interview. Unlikely though. I mean, a two-interview job? I'm totally out of my league here.
I should probably just knuckle down to Get Selling. This job does occasionally yield new experiences, some of them not wholly disagreeable. For example, a policeman came in the other day after CCTV footage that might have captured an 'incident' on the High Street. I handed a tape over, and had to sign a 'witness statement' (I declined counselling). There is even, the policeman said, the faint possibility that I might have to go to court, just to affirm that I gave him the tape. Fat chance, I thought. If I'm going into the witness box, there's a few other things I want to get off my chest as well. 'You want the truth? You can't handle the truth!' Oh yeah, I said that in the interview as well.
For the interview I wore a suit. Although I kept reassuring myself that this was normal, it is so unusual for me that I felt freakish. I felt that people were pointing and laughing (even more than usual).
I'm not going to say where it was. I'm not making that mistake again. Let's just say that it's a top secret government organisation. A woman led me down to the interview room, through deserted corridors. A table tennis table (unmanned) added to the institutional air. The interview was informal, friendly, and at times I even had the idea that it was all going rather well. Only later did I realise some of the things I'd said.
On reflection, when they asked: 'Why did you apply for this job?', I probably shouldn't have said: 'Because the voices in my head told me to.' And when they asked: 'What can you bring to the workplace?', 'Syphilis' was possibly not the response they were seeking.
But at the time they laughed, so it was hard to tell. If they call again, it will be to invite me to a second interview. Unlikely though. I mean, a two-interview job? I'm totally out of my league here.
I should probably just knuckle down to Get Selling. This job does occasionally yield new experiences, some of them not wholly disagreeable. For example, a policeman came in the other day after CCTV footage that might have captured an 'incident' on the High Street. I handed a tape over, and had to sign a 'witness statement' (I declined counselling). There is even, the policeman said, the faint possibility that I might have to go to court, just to affirm that I gave him the tape. Fat chance, I thought. If I'm going into the witness box, there's a few other things I want to get off my chest as well. 'You want the truth? You can't handle the truth!' Oh yeah, I said that in the interview as well.
posted by martin at 7:27 AM
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