So, you’re an applicant for that great looking job based in an equally great looking glass and steel skyscraper and excited about the job interview.
Your end at the job interview
You’re really psyched up and determined to give it your all.
You’ve prepared for days, reading up just about everything you can on your potential new employer. In fact, you probably now know more about their operation than the CEO does.
You’ve also brushed up on your interview techniques, lost a few pounds to try and make yourself look lean-n-mean and have made sure you have a new interview outfit that doesn’t look either too conservative or too anarchic.
Maybe you’ve also called in a few favors that nobody actually owes you, in order to run through a practice interview or two. You’ve thought about all the possible tricky questions and have a cutting riposte ready for each.
On the day itself, you arrive the customary 10 minutes early in order to get to the restroom to tidy yourself up and make sure that a call of nature doesn’t start to break your concentration in the interview itself. You’ve reported to the administrator or secretary and are sitting patiently waiting, eager to engage in some rapier-like verbal dueling with some of intellectual titans of commerce and industry that are surely waiting just behind that door you can see in the distance.
Their end at the job interview
The chances are that the corporation concerned has invested heavily in interview training and selection. The chances are equally high that the individuals concerned (apart, perhaps, from the HR professionals) didn’t take it seriously and have since forgotten anything someone once tried to teach them relating to ‘best practice’.
You were probably also originally scheduled to be interviewed by ‘Joe Smith’ but sadly, he’s taking a sick day to go fishing because he’d forgotten you were actually coming in. About five minutes before you arrived, a junior secretary noticed an interview commitment in Joe’s diary and all hell broke loose as the organization desperately scrabbled to find a replacement.
Poor old Phil just happened to be passing the Head of HR’s crisis management activities (in practice, HR departments operate entirely in crisis management mode) at the time. Making the mistake of looking vaguely under-occupied, he’s been press-ganged into service and suddenly finds himself instantly nominated as the resident expert in recruitment for a job in his department that he didn’t even know existed.
Job interview process
He’s baffled and bewildered but eager to please. HR thrust a job spec and your resume into his hands and tells him you’re in reception right now.
Frantically trying to read both documents in the elevator, his immediate concern is trying to work out just what the hell a “Coordinator of Matrix Administrative Supervision” actually does and how he’s meant to interview you for that role. He’s also wondering just how he can kid you that he’s fully familiar with the position and your background when, in fact, he’s barely had the time to read the title of the spec and your resume.
So, he sits behind the desk and tries to look comfortable as the secretary, who is trying not to openly laugh thereby betraying her knowledge of the chaos underfoot, leads you into the interview room.
The introduction
To be fair, Phil does OK to begin with. He introduces himself, asks if you want a coffee and tells you to relax.
He also asks if you object to him calling you Linda. You respond by saying you don’t mind, though you’re puzzled why – given your name is Mary.
The color draining out of Phil’s face might tell you that in the panic, HR have given him a copy of the wrong applicant’s resume. He should notify you of course and call a halt to proceedings but he decides to bluff it out and mutters something about having his wife’s name in mind – it’s her birthday.
The nuts and bolts
Phil gamely continues and you decide that you’re being paranoid – all must be OK really. You dismiss worries about why he seems to be constantly reading and re-reading the document in front of him labeled “Job Spec”, looking baffled as he does so.
So, you’re running through your immaculately rehearsed self-aggrandized professional history when suddenly you sense a change. Phil’s jaw is hanging loose and you wonder if that’s to do with something you said or a medical problem.
In fact, it’s neither. What Phil’s just grasped, albeit late, is that the “Coordinator of Matrix Administrative Supervision” is pretty much a new fancy title for the job he does Monday to Friday.
So, as you try and make an impression, Phil’s wondering just how he’s going to pay the mortgage if you get his job.
The conclusion to job interview
Phil might not be the brightest star in the galaxy but he’s a consummate professional. He carries on bravely and brings the job interview to a tidy conclusion.
You depart, full of hope and maybe anticipation for the future. After all, you got on really well with that Phil guy and sensed he thought you were right for the job. Phil on the other hand forgets about the interview feedback form which ends up on Joe Smith’s table who fills it out all average without actually having done the job interview.
Of course, such scenarios couldn’t happen in modern corporate business – could they?