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The debacle that was my interview and good times after

I skipped out of work on time yesterday, missing a meeting that had been postponed to go talk to a headhunter. Braving traffic and inclement weather, I slipped into a parking garage I hope was close to the building I needed downtown. I wandered through the rain and constuction in my heels, arriving early enough to take out jitters in the restroom. The kind receptionist handed me paperwork, which I actually had all the answers for, and asked me to wait for the person I was to see.

We went back to his desk, plunked down with some small talk and I gave him my spiel. I want to be a manager. He listened politely and asked me about the first job I had out of college. If I could still be there, would I? From this misleading and irrelevant question, he seemed to conclude that I was only good for tech jobs and wouldn't want anything else. He also didn't seem to understand that I understand that swithcing careers sometimes requires you to start over and that I really want to switch. Really. He just couldn't seem to get past the manager bit. In fact, it was all he ever wrote down. He cut the interview short and I jumped up and left. It was a waste of my time to try and argue with him. In fact, it was a waste of my time to visit at all. We could have done that over the phone if he'd had my resume in hand.

Leaving their office, I wandered out into the building lobby and called my Dad. We'd agreed to meet so I could pick up the battery charger he's loaning me (the Marauder needs a boost before we try and start it again). He didn't answer the phone, so I left a message and started walking toward his office, attache in hand. I thought about the interview and what a silly company that was, how I'd never had the chance to say half the things I wanted because I was dismissed out of hand. I wondered why I'd gone through all the trouble of dressing up and enduring the questions from my coworkers ("You got an interview today?") to just talk with someone for five minutes. By the time I reached Dad's office, I was steamed. I'd vowed to never use these people again or allow them any commisions off any future transactions.

I walked into his building and through security, smiling at the nice guys who X-rayed my attache and purse; I walked up the stairs to hs office and spotted him in an informal meeting in the hall. I smiled and said hi to the men he was talking to since I've known them forever. I sat down to wait in his office for a few minutes before he wandered in. We talked for a bit about the mess that my interview had become and I decided I really didn't want to brave rush hour traffic and the pouring rain. So we went down to Fado to grab a beer.

We talked the whole way, had appetizers and talked some more. The corned beef tacos were pretty good, but my beer freaked my still sensitive stomach out. We covered everything from family members to his retirement plans. In fact, we decided to go have dinner and talk some more. We ended up at the Brooklyn and had fabulous food at the chefs counter. Mussels, crab cakes and I had a great apple/pear/cheese salad. It was so good, Dad even thought he might like it. It was an excellent antidote to disappointment. We walked back to his car, and he gave me a ride up to mine.

Unfortunately, the garage closed at 7. It was 7:45. So there was no way to get my car out of the building, nor for me to get in to find some way to sneak it out. So Dad drove me home. He, my husband and I laughed about my inability to see and retain signs. This morning, my husband went to go grab the car out of the lot. I still can't believe I dismissed that information so easily.


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Silly woman. I've got other heahunters at other firms looking for other kinds of jobs. This guy was my ticket to career changing though. And in fact, I just sent him email to clarify my position. Maybe that'll clue him in.

I still have to find an exploded view of the Marauder to see where to attach the charger. More work. :)

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