The Interview

“My considerable lack of enthusiasm for this particular job?” That’s what I said when the LPE (Latest Potential Employer) asked me what I believed my greatest weakness was. It’s not that it wasn’t true, because it was. It was more that while my brain was doing its best to come up with a sorry-not-sorry weakness that would both charm and impress the interviewer, my mouth had already instinctively formed the words and released them like a warm fart in a crowded room.

I could almost see the answer lingering in the air, funking up the office for much longer than it should, knowing I couldn’t do the “it wasn’t me” look while not-so-subtly gesturing to wave away the smell. It’s safe to say he did not share my same sense of humor, given the look on his face.

We both sat silent for what felt like a full day, which began to make me worry I would follow up my already brilliant answer with an actual fart, until he uttered a “Welp” and a sigh. At first, I wanted to kick my own ass for lacking the necessary filter mandatory to charm and impress in such a situation. I can’t count as high as the number of times I’ve wished I could have preemptively slapped my hand over my mouth to prevent it from acting like a muddy puddle in the street gutter someone drives through too fast, effectively soaking that one person filled with hope while dressed in Sunday’s best. Then I thought, “Who does THIS guy think he is?” He sighed. He shook his head. HE SAID WELP! As a Midwest transplant, there is no truer sign that it’s time to leave than when the host slaps their knees and says welp. It was official. I was cooked.

Plus, why did he even care? Was I the only unemployed, underpaid, over-educated person applying for this barely minimum-wage job I was far too qualified for? Even if that WAS the case, then why bother with the interview process at all? Why not just hand me the shitty job on a benefit-less platter, refer to me as “doll,” and call it a day?

The interview lasted for another equally cringe-worthy 20 minutes, until it came to an end with the proverbial, “Do you have any questions for me?” I did. I had a ton of them.

Like, “Why is there so much oil all over the stack of papers on your desk when this establishment does not deal in anything oil-related?”

“Do you really believe the pay you’re offering matches the seemingly ENDLESS (and quite honestly, RIDICULOUS) duties required of this position?”

“How long has that sandwich been on your desk?”

Lastly, “How in the Hell is anyone supposed to answer that ridiculous, lame-ass, filler fluff, ‘greatest weakness’ question?”

I didn’t ask any of them, much as I wanted to. Instead, I stood up, shook his hand, thanked him for his time, and left. When I got in my car, I pulled out my notebook and made a little check mark on my to-do list next to “fail miserably at interview for job you didn’t want to begin with.” Nailed it.

I received a call two hours later with an exuberant offer to join “the team.” I actually took that job and worked it for a whole 10 days before I realized I’d rather pour warm bleach in my cereal bowl than be told what a “useless see-you-next-Tuesday” I was because I wasn’t able to dispatch a repairperson to fix a semi-leaky dishwasher within the next five minutes.

These days, I’m lucky to even be invited to interview for a job, much less one in my professional field. When I was younger and before I went to college, I would see a “help wanted” ad in the classified section of the newspaper (remember those?), walk myself in, and get the job. Every time. I don’t even think I had a resume at that time and if I did, it was most likely my community theater resume. While I had a good number of leading roles under my belt, I’m fairly certain “chorus member #3” was what really sold me. Team player. Supportive. Willing to work hard for very little recognition.

Now? I’m lucky to snag an interview for every 30-40 resumes I send out. Which, to be honest, doesn’t make sense. I have much more practiced experience, a solid (dare I say, impressive) college education wherein I graduated with honors, maintain a side of to-this-day monumental student loan debt, and a steadfast and prideful work ethic. But, for whatever reason, the phone just doesn’t ring. While I love being (and made the conscious decision to become) a freelancer, I’m beginning to question…is it me? (Don’t bother…I already know the answer.)

I can’t just sit around doing my best to look busy when I know I have so much more to offer, and I won’t work twice as hard for several thousand dollars less than I made 15 years ago. FIFTEEN YEARS! Trust me, I do not believe I am above anyone, anything or any job.

I once applied for a position at a world-renown hospital (which so happens to be five minutes from my house), transporting bodies to the morgue because it offered steady pay, a nice daily workout, and enviable benefits. I didn’t get the job because I had “too much experience and should look into applying for more jobs in my field, but thanks anyway! Good luck in your future job search!” Apparently, they didn’t realize I’d already done so at the very same hospital for every single opening that matched my qualifications, only to receive a variation of the same email six months after having applied for each position.

Which brings me back to those interview questions. Those asinine, non-relevant, what-do-you-want-me-to-say-and-I’ll-say-it questions potential employers never fail to ask. “Tell me about a time you (insert a problem you encountered on a job that somehow relates to the this one) and how did you solve it?” “How would you handle (insert potentially horrible situation you’ll probably encounter during your employment here) to yield the best results? “What do you consider to be your greatest strength (insert lying through your teeth with big words to prove how invaluable you would be to the company while maintaining complete and total humility)?” And my favorite…”What do you consider to be your greatest weakness?”

I’ve read all I can read about how to answer this question. I’ve asked friends, family, professionals, people who’ve gotten jobs after having been asked this same thing: I’ve done.my.research. I’ve answered it in countless ways. I’ve spun it to become a strength. I’ve done the, “Sometimes I can be hard on myself because I want the job done right.” “I’m often as enthusiastic about the small things as I am about the big, which leads me to work as hard on both, thus sacrificing personal time.” “Sometimes I put others’ successes above my own because I believe in the team as a whole.” I’m not saying these things aren’t true, but they’re garbage answers and provide zero insight into who I am and how I’ll fare in the position.

You know what else is true about my greatest weaknesses? I’m terrified of spiders to the point I’ll mow down anyone in front of me without regard for their safety to ensure my own, because spiders are proof that Satan exists on earth.

I’m also afraid of the dark, which results in a higher electric bill because I have to sleep with my TV on at night so the monsters under my bed will be too entertained to eat my ankles when I get up to go to the bathroom.

If I say I’m going to throw-up, MOVE, because I’m going to throw-up, which can happen at will if I’m nervous, overtired, or you look at me funny and I’ve been that way since I was a kid, so I don’t see it changing at this point.

I have a delayed reaction to fear, in that when I’m startled or caught by surprise, it takes a full three seconds to register, resulting in body spasms that begin at my toes and make their way to my very full head of red hair standing straight up, and ending with a sound that could only be described as a group of prepubescent boys warming up for a dreaded school choral concert.

Are these the kinds of answers I should be giving? I feel like they say a lot more about me than, “Sometimes I work too hard.” Maybe I should start answering like this (assuming I actually receive another invitation to interview.) Physics dictates for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. Perhaps it’s the opposite action that would yield me the equal and best reaction.

Of course at this point, it could be my complete and total apathy toward the application/potential interview process that’s the problem because it’s always the same job that is rarely (if ever) in my professional field. Maybe I should remove “Ready, willing, and able to sniff out the bullshit before it starts to stink” under the “Skills and Attributes” portion of my vitae.

Then again….