… not the most successful perhaps, but the first of many – one hopes.
So yesterday I went on the first job interview of my current unemployment. I suspected something was wrong when I got a call just half an hour after I had submitted my CV (one of those ‘it exists so I’ll apply for it’ applications). However, I put on my favourite suit and trotted it down Park Street in my ill-fitting but very shiny shoes and dutifully turned up for my 9am slot.
Turns out there were rather a lot of people there for the 9 o’clock slot. We shuffled into a completely black and white ‘conference room’ and were collectively quizzed about our current states of competency. First there was, who I will term ‘Scouse Brow’. Genuinely lovely, worked in retail (the only member of the group who wasn’t unemployed) and was greatly looking forward to washing her car after the interview was over. She was also a champion Irish Dancer! Today’s life lesson: do not judge a person by their eyebrows, drawn-on or otherwise.
Then there was my favourite, Carla, the Pole. Who happily declared that she had left her last job because she hated working with Polish people and that she would not be willing to do so again. When asked (with a somewhat surprised tone from the interviewer) why she disliked so much working with persons of her own nationality, she sated: ‘seriously, you not understand, they all awful! Really bad! All polish people! I never want work again in place with more five Polish people . Ever.’ The interviewer opened up the question of working with ones own nationality to the rest of the group to which I promptly answered that if the interviewer himself was Welsh I should probably like him an awful lot more (one of those moments when the think-before-you-speak filter didn’t quite get there in time).
Carla also said that she was most perplexed as to why she couldn’t get a job – she has apparently been to many a job interview and expressed her particular dislike of working with Polish people…
After learning about the rest of our group – why they were unemployed, what they wanted from a job, their favourite hobbies, how far away they lived from the office (?) our interviewer finally told us about the mystery job we had all been invited to battle for. It was ‘exciting’, we could earn lots of money, the word ‘progression’ was thrown around a lot – it was Door to Door sales.
I nearly cried.
I hate the strangers that knock on my door, wearing suits and kindly informing me that I they could somehow make my life better or better, I don’t want to be one of them! Second life lesson of the day: ask what the job entails BEFORE turning up for the interview.
When I got the invitation to return for a second interview I politely declined. The search for a creative life (avec salary) continues…