Two Week Notice

The conference room in which the meeting was held was small … only able to seat about six comfortably, but that was okay, because there were only two of us present. Well, three, but the third was there via video link from New York.

Technology: it’s an amazing thing.

We were supposed to start at 10am, but it had rained that morning, and as anyone who’s ever tried to drive in LA after/during a rain knows, that means traffic was snarled because of hysteria, panic, and insanity. I guess it’s something in the water falling from the skies. Maybe people think it’s the rapture.

Anyway, even the comfortable 45 minutes I gave myself to make the 20 mile drive now seemed like a gross underestimation. Particularly since I had been in the car for almost 30 minutes, and still had about 15 miles to go. I called the geek in HR, and broke the news to him.

“Phil, it’s The Monkey. I think I may be a bit late.”
”Oh.” Phil had an undertone in his voice that hinted he wanted to say more. More along the lines of: “You asshole. You’ve known about this meeting for a week, and you also know we’re setting up a link with a VP in New York. You expect us all to just accommodate you because you fucked up your commute?”

Instead, he just paused and asked, “How late do you think?”

Oh, did I mention this meeting was an interview for a job? Not a great way to start, calling and telling the Executive VP that you are going to be a little late.

Still, for some reason, I wasn’t flustered. I just told him it would be 15 minutes longer than expected. Good thing I wasn’t on video link, or my crossed fingers and rolling eyes may have worked against me. Besides, what did I care? It wasn’t like I needed this job, since I was already employed.

I arrived, shook hands, did the polite intro, and was hustled into the conference room.

Now, we've all been on job interviews, and know they can be stressful. You feel as if you’re being tested and measured and judged, and with good reason, because you are. You half expect to be asked to show your teeth, have your vertical leap measured, and pee into a cup. But, still, this time I didn’t feel nervous. Almost the opposite. There was a sense of boredom that filled me. Oddly, somewhere between my sending in my resume and being called for the interview, the dynamic had shifted to where I was the one evaluating them. After all, they called me in, which meant there must be something about me they desire.

I knew the job was mine in the first five minutes. The department director began by telling me how impressive my resume was, and how perfectly my skill-set seemed to match their needs. The VP followed by telling me he was blown away by my writing samples. For the next two hours we talked. There were only a few questions regarding my background and experience, with the most intense moment coming when the department director handed me a printout of some of their current web content, asking me to look it over and give my analysis. After a few minutes I handed it back and gave my evaluation:
The page was poorly written, and too verbose. The content flowed poorly, was occasionally confusing, the layout was counterintuitive, and the voice was too formal for the intent.

They were impressed. But hey, it’s what I do. I am, after all, a professional.

From that point most of the questions were better suited for sitting outside having a pitcher of beer and a basket of onion rings.

We talked about sports (the VP was a hockey guy), different parts of the world (they loved my stories about camping in the Baja), and compared fresh vs. salt water fishing. I asked some “big picture” questions regarding the company’s goals and directions, offering opinion and suggestion. I dropped Simpsons references which made the VP laugh. It was just three guys talking, so you know nothing of importance was said.

When I got home, there was a message on my answering machine. It was the geek from HR asking me to call him. I start in two weeks. I will be earning over $10,000 more a year and have a fuller benefits package. My commute will be cut in half.

Now all I have to do is tell my current boss. She doesn’t even know I’ve been looking. That will be fun.

Ook ook