The worst job interview ever.

Headquarters of famous, nationwide company that I don’t want to name because I still want to get a job there. So, I’d been writing technical articles for 8 years at Ford and wanted to write lighter pieces. The job entailed feature writing, which is basically news writing with more adverbs and adjectives. It was a smouldering hot day. The interviewer kept me waiting. And waiting. He finally arrived and took me into a dusty room with dirty furniture and without air conditioning.

I was wearing my summer interview suit. Grey, hip. I had a good bob going on and was wearing my hip glasses.

The interview began. The interview dived right in, bombarding me with questions concerning why I thought I could switch from tech/news writing to features. I showed him some samples. They weren’t featurey enough for him. He kept asking and asking me that same question. I explained that I was a go-getter, driven, etc. I kept up with his bombardment. I answered his question in a variety of different ways, but each answer was as wrong as the one before it...to him. The encounter was like a tennis match. I felt like I was answering his serves…but barely.

Since it was so hot, he was thirsty and poured himself a cold drink. He did not offer me one.

And, to top it off, he did something that angered me: He kept speaking Yiddish to me. "Why?" I wondered. It felt out of place for him to speak Yiddish to me. There was no reason for this familiarity or casualness. I didn’t sense that he was part of the tribe. And, when I say tribe, I mean people who are Jewish or people who I like. Of course, to follow that logic, I guess I wouldn’t want people who are Jewish who I don’t like to speak Yiddish either. Anyway, nice Jewish people and people who I like are allowed to speak Yiddish…at least in Agatestoneland. But everyone else is not. And why did he keep speaking Yiddish to me? I didn’t have any religious jewelry on and although I have a Semitic look, he had no proof of my heritage or religious leanings. Was he making fun of me? Being snide? I don’t know. I do know that it bothered me.

After this horrible interview, which, as I said before, was not a traditional interview, but consisted of this man asking me over and over and over again why I thought I could change from tech/news writing to features, another woman gave me an exit interview. What I wanted to tell her was that I wasn’t hopeful that I was going to get the job. That the interviewer was a nasty pr*ck and that if he didn’t think I was the woman for the job, he should have stopped attacking me and ended the interview. But, instead, I said that the interview went well, left, went to my car, closed the doors, and burst out in tears.

Why? Because I discovered that my hip, grey suit was dirty from coming in contact with his dirty furniture. Because I was so thirsty and he didn’t offer me a cold beverage. Because he infuriated me by speaking Yiddish. And because he didn't really interview me. He didn’t get to know me. But, I got over it. I went to other interviews at other companies and got the job that I have now.