Sorry about that; I was busy this morning. I have actually just finished an interview for a job. Really! And, yes, they are still using interviews as a way to decide who to appoint to a position. I mean, for God’s sake guys, bang the rocks together! How many times have youse found out that yon candidate who knows all the tricks about how to perform well at interviews turned out to be the employee from Hell? How many more years will it take youse to then realise that competitive interviews are one of the least efficient methods of choosing the right candidate? [42 – Ed.] Just give the job to the girl with the biggest tits and have done with it.
There is theory behind my rant. [Just this one, or in general? – Ed.] Or listen to Mr Peterson on the subject, if you have a minute. And you do. We all have minutes, millions and millions of them.
I dressed as a Black woman in a wheelchair for the interview, just in case the employer had some quotas to reach, wore glasses too and sort of hinted that I fancied women. Which I do, so that wasn’t a lie, at least. Most of the rest of what came out of my lipsticked lips during the interview though had only a passing acquaintance with the truth. And this is true for all applicants in all job interviews, and is the main reason why they should be thrown in the bin. Make the applicants run 100 metres or something, and appoint the applicant who finishes in the middle of the pack – that method would have as much chance of selecting the applicant who will actually suit the position you are advertising.
This is not sour grapes, by the way, as I do not yet know the outcome of the interview. If they do make me an offer, then, Let the Games Begin. I very rarely accept a first offer, of anything. Or I might eventually accept it, but not straight away. For example, just before the job interview, somebody else was on the phone offering me £1,000 for an artistic activity. I put him off until later on, even though he wants to pay me up front for reasons of his own – probably taking some drug money to the dry cleaners, or something. Anyway, the point is, if I remember to phone him back tonight – and there is a washing machine man coming tonight too, so there is no guarantee I will not need another siesta after so much excitement in one day, and God alone knows how long a siesta it will be – maybe the £1,000 will have grown to £1,023 due to inflation, or impatience; or maybe the duties will have decreased, or the side benefits increased. You never know, and you will never know if you accept the first offer.
Honestly, I phoned up my internet provider one time looking to bargain with them. What I wanted was less broadband, as I was not using all the width they were giving me and thought they could pass it on to someone who needed it. The wee boy at the other end of the phone did not know what to do with me. Just like the upsellers in McDonald’s are less than plussed when I inform them that ordering a meal is not, in fact, cheaper as a) I want large fries, and b) I do not want a drink. My favourite answer to their computer-programmed question, “Is that a meal?” deserves an outing here. “A meal? It’s not even fucking food.”
But the internet provider boy came back strongly and bargained me up to a deal that gave me more broadband (that I didn’t want) at a cheaper price than my old deal. So, feigning reluctance when really I had achieved the price reduction I was seeking, I accepted his offer and we both went away happy: he earned commission for signing me up to a new deal, and I got spare broadband to throw out with the potato peelings to feed the PhD students. Win-win.
Just once in a job interview I would like to tell the truth though.
“What do you feel you can bring to this position?”
“Well, I can promise to occupy a seat for youse on a very regular basis, Monday to Friday, nine to five. Even though I am disabled, you will see from my record that I take well-below the allotted number of sick days, so I will generally turn up at the times you expect to see me.”
“How have your experience and qualifications to date prepared you to take on this challenging role?”
“They haven’t really, but I just fancied a change. You’ve got to take a risk now and then, don’t you feel, or life gets too boring?”
“How would you deal with a tricky employee who refuses to undertake a task assigned by his line manger?”
“Well, I would likely be that tricky employee, so maybe I would just wind my neck in and get on with it, though I am more likely to get the Union Rep involved, going on past history.”
“Do you have any questions for us?”
“Do youse think my false tits look too big in this dress?”