The food court

The first interview I had as a laid off person was way back in October and was setup by a friend. However wonderful it was for her to recommend me, the truth is that I really wasn't ready. I had been kicked to the curb only a few weeks prior, and hadn't yet accepted that my previous employer didn't want me, let alone that another might. I was still reeling with emotion and was just focused on gettin' the hell out of Dodge. I had already decided that I wasn't going to consider looking for work until the new year (cuz really...how long was it gonna take me anyway?!), but I knew that it would just be wrong to pass up the opportunity to at least get one interview under my belt to remind myself what they're like.


We were squeezing the interview in the day before I was leaving for Nicaragua and I was told I was being taken for lunch. (Sweet....is this how interviews go these days? I like it!). I got all spiffed up and drove down to the hub of the city where I hadn't worked in years. I parked in the lot of the 50+ floor office tower next door, and made my way to reception a good 15 minutes early. I schmoozed the gay receptionist and had him rooting for me to get the job within 2 minutes. ("Oh....He is gonna LOVVVE you!"). When my interviewer came out to greet me (10 minutes late) I was told that his boss, the Director, would be joining us. Great, I thought, kill two birds with one stone! Bring it on!

I was taken to a food court. Not just any food court - I'm guessing the busiest food court in downtown Toronto. We spent a good 10 minutes in the Thai food lineup (I was not bold enough to say "I feel like pizza....I'll find you guys later. Save me a seat!"), and I tried to make small talk, but was politely ignored as they constantly scoped for free tables. We were lucky to find a table pretty close to the Thai Express, and I was lucky to have not dropped my tray of food on the way (It's a phobia I have and I usually get mine in a to-go bag even if I'm staying. I'm pretty sure I was bullied in high school in a former life).

Settling into our seats served as the transition from the 'how well can she deal with change' part of the interview, to the question period. Questions were hurled at me through mouths full of cashew chicken and rice. They seemed more interested in their spring rolls than what I was saying. Worst of all, the background noise was deafening and I could barely hear a word. I took one mouthful of rice and realized that was a bad idea - my concentration was diverted and I was forced to say 'pardon?' yet again. I have no idea what they asked, or what I answered, but I know there was no time for me to ask much, and 20 minutes later I was throwing my still full plate of food into the garbage and we were on our way. Parking was $18.

I thought the job sounded incredibly boring. I thought the food court was unprofessional. (pros: Location and money). I went off to Nicaragua and pretended the whole thing never happened - but, even though their interview process was sketchy, I secretly fought with the reality that they didn't offer me the job. I got no reply to my followup emails I sent both the hiring manager and my friend. Turns out, they didn't want me either.

Kinda like being taken to McDonald's on a date, non? Not quite what you were expecting, and you'll probably feel sick afterwards.

I went on a Starbucks blind date once that did not go well at all. He was not terribly attractive, was 45+ years old and wearing a hockey jacket,* and we spent a good portion of the date disagreeing on where to travel with children (I said 'the world', he said Disney). We parted ways and I thought....nope, not a chance. He never called and while I wasn't AT ALL interested, I still wished he was with me. Is that normal????

To quote a dear friend of mine "who wouldn't want all of this?"

Lisa

*this is not a reference to his age, but the fact that AT his age he's wearing a hockey jacket. Apologies if I have offended any of you hockey-jacket-wearing-middle-agers but I'll be the one to break it to you.....your hockey jacket wearing days are long over.