While checking out Fark.com earlier I came across an article in the Boston Globe about job interviews which reminded me of an experience I had had with the process and which is worth relating.
This was at my last job in Canada, for a high-tech firm in Montreal, summer of 97. It was a warm and pleasant day. I knew my boss was scheduled to interview someone that day, but I wasn’t normally the one to do the initial interviews; if my boss liked the applicant I was brought in to do a basic tech-oriented interview. So I was rather surprised when the boss’s head popped into my cube asking me if I wanted to handle the whole thing. And it bore a suspicious grin.
So I pick up whatever papers I had on the guy and went to the interview room. It wasn’t long before I realized why I was being brought in earlier than expected.
The “applicant” (note the quotes) was waiting for me in a conference room. Now, this was a high-tech place, so my expectations weren’t that high as far as dress code et al. were concerned, but this guy managed to disappoint even those.
He showed up in shorts and a t-shirt. Granted, it was summer, but it’s a fucking job interview, isn’t it. Those of you who wish to take an optimistic view of these things can imagine that those were bermuda shorts and perhaps a tech-related tee, but you’d be wrong — just ordinary light plaid shorts and a t-shirt which, if memory serves correctly, actually had a “Molson Canadian” logo on it, aside from being dirty.
Oh yeah, he also wore sandals. I’m not one to notice footwear, but in this case I made an exception. Not even sporty ones or Birkenstocks, just very ordinary sandals, a step up from flip-flops but not much more.
Now, if that were all, I might just have dismissed it as a goof, but other things indicated to me that this guy was setting himself up in order to not get a job, and he was doing a fairly good job of it. Noticeable item one, besides the clothes, was the fact that he neglected to bring his resume, or indeed anything else but a well-thumbed through paperback which he appeared to be finishing — it was something mildly science-fiction-y, like LOTR or Dune or a title of that sort.
Item two was about three days’ worth of beard on his face which only served to highlight the permanently-affixed grin.
Item three was pallor of skin and distant look normally observed in those exiting raves, and which seems mostly caused by oncoming withdrawal from some narcotic like LSD or such. That would, if nothing else, explain the grin.
Item four was beer on his breath. At 11 am. This guy was really covering all the bases, it was quite comical, it’s almost as though he’d made a checklist of all the things he should do in order to not have even the slightest chance at getting a job and followed that list to the letter.
I’m not exactly sure why I just didn’t tell him that ‘we’d be in touch’ and sent him on his way, but I did have a look at his resume just for the heck of it, and found that this guy was doing a Master’s in Creative Writing, which I suppose must have been the one tenuous link that had somehow pushed him to apply for the job. Now, for those people not in the know about these things, let me put it this way — creative writing majors are looked down on by everybody, something which is probably fueled by experiences like mine. Heck, when even we Lit majors look down on you, it’s time to accept that your status in life might leave a bit to be desired.
The interview was short and predictably pointless. When I thought about it later I figured that this guy was either on unemployment insurance or outright welfare, and that he was somehow forced to attend at least one job interview periodically in order to keep his diet of government cheese, and that this time we were the ‘lucky winners’ of that rather sorry spectacle. We were too small to need a full-time janitor, so there was really no chance in hell that he would be faced with the misfortune of obtaining employment.
So, if you’re facing such a situation — i.e. you’re forced to go through the job application process but want to avoid any and all possibility of being taken seriously — here are a few pointers you might consider following:
- Dress down. I cannot emphasize how important that step is, as it will really set the tone for the interview. The applicant above was exemplary in this regard. Shorts should be flimsy, t-shirts should feature something alcohol-related, something offensive, or better yet something both offensive and alcohol-related, like this little number from T-ShirtsThatSuck.com.
- Don’t make the mistake of bringing in your resume, ever. People might then think you’re serious about applying for the job.
- As an addition to ‘dressing down’, make sure you wear sandals. Anyone can throw on a t-shirt in a jiffy, but putting sandals on for an interview will show the interviewer exactly the sort of person that you are.
- Personal hygiene concerns should go out the window. Don’t even think about shaving for at least a couple of days before the interview. Ladies, same goes for the legs, although you might want to give the ol’ gams an additional week’s lead-time for that wild look.
- Looks aren’t the only thing that matters when it comes to hygiene. Banish the toothbrush for a day or two, and make sure to eat tons of garlic-heavy exotic foods before showtime. Beer on the breath is very impressive, especially for morning interviews; alternately you can try the whiskey variation, which will also leave you with an unmistakeable bouquet, and has the added bonus of making your sweat smell like you’re been curled up in a bottle for a while. While you’re at it, try sleeping in the clothes you’ll be wearing to the interview.
- Your whole demeanor should also scream out that you’re not interested. Maintain a stupid grin throughout the interview, putting special efforts in keeping up appearances at inappropriate times. Should that prove insufficient, try insulting the interviewer, concentrating your efforts on his/her looks, family, ethnicity or religion.
- Take a porn mag to the interview. It shouldn’t be new of course, it has to look like you’ve been, er, using it for a while. Playboy just isn’t going to cut it for this purpose, it should be something which offends on a very specific thing — try “Barely Legal”, “Black Booty” or “Big Butt”. When you sit down for the interview make sure to leave it face up, preferably facing the interviewer.
- If things start going not so well despite all that — i.e., the interviewer seems to actually be interviewing you instead of killing time and watching the clock periodically — excuse yourself to go to the bathroom, taking the porn mag with you, and return about 15 minutes later. That should definitely kill all possible chances of employment.
Using these strategies you can be guaranteed to continue enjoying the life of leisure and, if you’re outside the USA, a modest subsidized livelihood.
Update: upon posting this story to reddit someone over at diaspora.xs.mw got all in a tizzy and accused me of fabricating the story, weaving a web of deceit and even hallucinating! (you just can’t make this shit up). Silly peachy! The guy had faxed in his resume previously, that’s how he got the interview set up. This is how it works in most companies, except apparently in peachy’s company, that seems to interview any vagrant who stumbles through the doors. Usually the serious applicant will bringn in a nicely-printed copy with him to the interview, and the fact that this one had not done so was taken by me as an indication that he wasn’t serious, which he wasn’t. I find it so cute when bloggers fancy themselves investigators!