Book excerpt - Blown Job: Chapter 7, Part 1

Nearly three years ago, I was fired from my job; a casualty of the post-9/11 economic downturn. After 18 months of looking for work without success, I sat down to write a book, entitled, "Blown Job: an unemployment odyssey." I've been posting excerpts here. Since preparing for interviews took up such a big part of my life during that time, I've split Chapter Seven into two parts. Here's Part One. (See "Past Posts of Note" for earlier chapters )

Chapter 7, Part 1 - Interviews, or, You Don’t Need Anyone, Do You?

Interview Tip #1: Remove your tongue stud before the interview, not during.

I certainly didn’t rely on networking alone to search for work. Remember that laundry list of job titles that I cataloged earlier, the ones that headlined employment ads on the ’Net? Well, these are just some of the companies and organizations whose ads I responded to:

Lexis/Nexis; The Foundation Center; Natural Resources Defense Council; Baruch College; FleetBoston Financial; Ernst & Young; Grubb & Ellis; Scholastic, Inc.; Trammell Crow; Sesame Workshop; Skadden Arps Slate Meagher & Flom; Lincoln Center; Parsons Brinckerhoff; UNICEF; CNN; Manhattan Theatre Club; Bloomingdale’s; AOL Time Warner;

Bates USA; PEN American Center; Thirteen/WNET; UBS Warburg; Pratt Institute; American Foundation for the Blind; Macy’s; Details Magazine; NBC; HarperCollins; CBS; The Learning Annex; The Ford Foundation; The Robin Hood Foundation; Random House; American Express; MTV; Rodale, Inc.;

Dress for Success; Con Edison; Brooklyn College; The New York Times; Women’s City Club of New York; The Doe Fund; Bloomberg, Inc.; Starlight Children’s Foundation; God’s Love We Deliver; A&E; Barnes & Noble; Sterling National Bank; Meredith Corporation; Bertelsmann.

The list is lots longer. I wrote to smaller firms. I responded to post office boxes, e-mail addresses, and fax numbers used by companies who wanted their names to remain confidential. I applied through the New York State Department of Labor. Each time, I composed a cover letter; tailored my résumé accordingly; included clips of my work, if required, and sent off the packages with fingers crossed and heart racing. And nearly every time, I met with disappointment.

Some of the firms were polite enough to send rejection letters:

Dear (Your Name Here),

Thank you for your interest in the XYZ Corporation. While we were impressed with your credentials, we have decided to hire someone with more direct experience.

We will hold your résumé on file for six months, in the event that a position opens up that can best utilize your skills.

Again, thank you for writing, and best of luck in your career.

Has anyone out there ever been called within the six months that your résumé supposedly remains on file? This is one of those expressions that has about as much meaning as “the check is in the mail” or “that dress really makes your ass look smaller.” It’s a nice lie.

And the closer, “best of luck in your career” never fails to irritate me. What they’re really saying is, “we don’t want you, but here’s hoping you'll find some hapless sucker who will.” If I had any luck at all, you would have called me, bitch. (In Human Resources, the bitches seem to vastly outnumber the bastards.)

Interview Tip #2: When the interviewer asks if you’d like some coffee, don’t say, “No, thanks. What I really could go for is some moo shu.”

Now, I don’t want you to think that I wasn’t able to garner a single interview in my 18 months of unemployment. I actually interviewed for four jobs. Not a fabulous ratio, but not that unusual, from what I’ve heard and read.

Going on an interview, for me, is akin to preparing for a trip to the moon. I want to be sure that I take everything that I will possibly need and I have to be prepared for every possible contingency. I’ve always been deadly serious about the subject of work – unlike a friend of mine, who, while still a young man and reluctant to join the choking mass of nine-to-fivers, would joke that he’d call companies and ask, “You don’t need anyone, do you?”

*

My preparation goes something like this. When I receive the much-anticipated call from a person in Human Resources, I immediately log on to the ’Net and read every page of the employer’s website. I print out the company’s newsletters for future reference. I focus on the firm’s buzzwords, acronyms, and mission statement. I read the Annual Report. I scan search engines for mentions of the firm and its top executives. I look at industry information on Hoover’s.

That’s Phase I. Phase II is to review the literature I’ve accumulated on interviewing techniques. I practice my two-minute pitch, which encapsulates my talents and strengths. I go over basic questions: the ones I might be asked and the ones that I should ask. I rehearse my answers. I think up new questions based on the particular firm.

Phase III is reviewing my portfolio of writing and graphics samples. I reorganize it, based on the particular job’s requirements. Are they interested in press releases, proposals, or newsletters? Will they want to see technical writing or letters or humor? Which graphic should I open the portfolio with? This is basically an exercise in masturbation, because I usually have to ask an interviewer if she wants to take a look. Most are probably bleary eyed from viewing portfolios, by the time I show up.

Phase IV is scoping out the territory. This means figuring out where the office is located and how I will get there – which train to take, what time to leave home, how far I have to walk. On interview day, I check out the neighborhood. Is there a Duane Reade drugstore nearby? This is priority one, and the answer is almost always in the affirmative, because the company’s expansion plans apparently call for a DR to be located on every city block in Manhattan. Next, where’s the nearest branch of my bank? How many fast food restaurants are nearby? Is there a good place for me to stand and have a smoke? Where are the nearest shoe repair shop, library, and post office? These may seem like trivial matters, but when you spend more than half of every day away from home, these things take on importance, on par with salary, benefits, and an office with real walls.

Interview Tip #3: Don’t ask if you can smoke at your desk; if the ladies room has a condom dispenser; if Halloween is a paid holiday; if your kids can play under your desk after school.

So now I’m ready. All I have to do is choke down the overwhelming nausea that consumes me before every interview. I come to each interview very well prepared and quite fearful that I will forget everything I reviewed over the past few days. Though I am well-dressed and make a good outward appearance, I worry that my stockings will rip, or the seams on my skirt will shift, or my lipstick will smear. I worry that I will smile inappropriately or not enough. I worry that I won’t be able to come up with the right small talk. I worry that I will not be able to remember the details on my résumé. I worry that I won’t be able to answer a question for which I am unprepared. I worry that I will perspire if it is too warm, or that my nipples will show through my blouse if it is too cold. Should I take my jacket off? Should I cross my legs? Can I lean back in my chair or should I sit forward?

None of this is covered in any of the employment guides. It’s probably best not to think too much about any of this and just hope that the work will speak for itself. But we all know that what you say with your body language and facial expressions counts heavily in any social interaction, which, for better or worse, is just what an interview is. You can intrigue an interviewer with your résumé, but you really sell her with your personality. In which case, I’m dead.