Job Interview

As many of you may well know, a few weeks ago I excitedly posted on my facebook that I had a job interview. I've been looking for a job with an administrative type role for awhile, and fortunately, I have the luxury of taking my time, and really looking for a job that I would enjoy. While the unemployment rate in Austin is a lot lower than the rest of the country, it's still an extremely competitive job market out there, and believe it or not with my fabulous resume, I haven't gotten many leads. So I was really surprised, and kind of thrilled that I got a call back from a company I had sent my resume to-- mind you I had sent my resume out to many many different companies, so when they called, I had them describe themselves to me. They're a moving company that's been in business 10 years, primarily in Florida, and they just moved their headquarters to Austin. We agreed on a date and right before we got off the phone, they told me to bring my drivers licence and social security card with me.

That last little bit didn't sit well with me-- who brings that kind of information to a job interview? Were they just looking for a warm body to do some kind of work-- not someone with my sweet and awesome skills? It kept bothering me-- really deeply bothering me, that something just wasn't right. So, I turned to my friend, the trusty internet, to do a little research. Since they're now a national company with offices in both Florida and Texas, I figured that someone out there had worked for them and probably said something about it online. All I googled was the company name and the phrase "work for."  I dare you to look at the results you get on the 5th, 6th, 7th (and so on) hits on the internet. I'll let the search results do the talking, but the gist is this: This is one moving company you really REALLY don't want to hire, and if you have a shred of moral fiber in your body, one that you really don't want to work for.

I felt kind of sick. What do you do in a situation like this? I decided that professionally, I was obligated to go to the interview, even if I wanted nothing to do with the company. At least it was good interview practice right? This is what greeted me the morning I got there:

 

Yup, it was a warehouse, and really quite creepy. Don't get me wrong, there's nothing wrong with working out of a warehouse, it was just obvious from the other kinds of companies next door that these people weren't of the same caliber: no logo, no obvious service industry. No happy people going about their happy business. Just half of the company name on the door and an address. Believe me, it only gets better.

I get inside and the woman who is supposed to interview me, isn't even there yet. While I'm waiting I can overhear the receptionist on the phone having a conversation that went like this:

Receptionist: "Ma'am, hi I just talked to the driver, and he doesn't know when he's going to be there. (pause) Well, yes I understand, but he just doesn't know. He was in a bit of a hurry, he was loading a truck, (pause) Right, but I just can't give you a firm date of when the truck will arrive. (longer pause) Well, he did mention something about Monday (pause)"

I tuned out after that and then my eye caught a post it note, stuck to the side of a computer monitor. It read, "FRAUD. Paul, 555-555-5555"

The woman who interviewed me finally came in. She looked like she came from Jersey Shore and had an accent and make-up to match. Before interviewing me, she instructed the receptionist to and I quote, "go into these old contracts and change these parts" Not change the template for the contracts to reflect new policies-- but to change old contracts with people already attached to them-- change those contracts. So honest, so honest.

We went into the actual warehouse, where believe it or not, from floor to ceiling high were people's belongings, stacked in nice neat rows. This was not as they advertise, secure and climate controlled. Believe me, with minimal effort you could break into that place. And it was frigidly cold, because it was basically outside.

The rest of the interview was fairly normal, but it was shot as good interview practice. I kept fearing a member of the russian mafia was going to come out from the stacks of furniture, guns blazing, swearing, spitting caviar and swigging vodka, and threaten me to take the job. The result was me giving the worst interview ever: I sat on the edge of my seat, nodded a lot, and said "Uh-huh" with the best Minnie Mouse voice you have ever heard.

It was an experience to be sure. In fact, it's downright hilarious, and I still have a hard time believing it actually happened. What's even more is that I can't believe in this day in age, as a dishonest person you think you can do bad business and that a record of it won't show up on the internet. Just a moderate amount of research gave me the whole truth about this company that is now attempting to continue bad business in another part of the country, escaping their record in Florida. Not so. We live in an age of a binding record of truth on the internet, one that for the most part, can never be erased. If you harm, hurt, mislead others or attempt to cover up your lying, cheating, scandalous self, you will fail. The internet will more than likely reveal your true self. If there was a lowest common denominator for living a moral life, that would be it. The real benefit of doing honest good work is a peaceful conscience.

So that peeps, is my story. And if you happen to be in need of someone with great administrative and leadership skills, awesome creativity, an articulate writing style as well as serious web savvy knowledge, for the record, I am your woman. You can check out and download my current resume at the bottom of my linked in page.