Tag: Interview

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The Accident

“Sir”, he said, bursting into the room where I was conducting a job interview, “May I use the power saw?” Not the question one expects during a job interview.

With a confused look I nodded yes. Our driver dashed to the office tool locker, grabbed the power saw, and disappeared. I apologized to the interviewee, and we resumed our discussion.

This being Uganda, the windows were wide open. We soon heard the power saw in action from somewhere down the road. The interviewee and I were both distracted, listening intently to the grind of the saw on something very unforgiving.

Moments later the project driver re-appeared, sweaty and breathless. “Sir”, he said. “May I borrow 10,000 Shillings?” (about $3.00). He looked at me pleadingly.

I turned to the interviewee to apologize once more, then I asked our driver what was going on.

There had been an accident. A bread truck had crashed through the gates of our project house and smashed into a concrete pillar. The driver of the truck was pinned behind the steering wheel with cracked ribs. Our power saw had been used to cut through the steering column of the truck to free him. But the 10,0000 Shillings?

They had called an ambulance from the accident scene. Alas, the ambulance reported that they could not come because they were “out of fuel”. This was a thinly veiled request for a bribe. Hence the 10,000 Shillings. The irony is that we actually worked on the same compound as the hospital. So our project driver just drove the injured person there himself.

It turns out the injured person was the 16-year-old nephew of the actual bread truck driver. The latter had been drinking and was fast asleep in the passenger seat. The nephew was driving with no license, no shoes, no experience, and apparently no functional brakes.

We got things sorted and I concluded the interview. In my distracted state I offered the candidate the job. Worst hire of my career.  By contrast, that project driver – with his pro-active, get-it-done, common sense – now manages a national fleet of hundreds of vehicles and drivers.

[If you know someone else who might enjoy a lighthearted story to begin their week, kindly forward them WordsfortheWeary. The more the merrier.]

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The Interviews – 16/10/2017

I was once offered employment by a naked man in a public shower. This is pretty typical of my career, which mostly consists of jobs for which I am unqualified and interviews that do not follow a script. Let me explain before you come to the wrong conclusion.

I knew a professor at college who was really into running. I am really into not running. Yet for some reason we found ourselves showering next to each other at the Athletic Center one morning. He asked if I wanted to be his Teaching Assistant while he lathered with shampoo. I said yes while I soaped my armpits. We maintained strict eye contact with one another throughout this exchange, because if there is one thing for which I am categorically unqualified, it is to be naked in a public shower.

In another instance, I was interviewed by someone who had just arrived that morning on an overnight flight from China. He kept falling asleep during our interview. When he would momentarily roused himself, I would continue answering his original question until he dozed off again. We only got through three questions in 45 minutes, which I credit with getting me a job for which I was woefully unqualified.

During another interview, I was asked how I felt about working for Jews. Seriously. I was so caught off guard by the question that it’s one of the few times in my life I have truly been at a loss for words. I must have stammered something affirming because the interviewer offered me the job. I learned later that he was a rabbi – who knew?

I was once asked by a friend to interview for a job I didn’t want but for which, for a change, I was actually qualified. During the proceedings she asked me to identify “the most creative tools” I use when communicating with others. With nothing to lose (except our friendship, perhaps), I decided to really go for it with my response. I slowly stood up, fixed the panel with a steely gaze, took off my suit jacket, and said without a touch of irony: “Interpretive. Dance.” Then I dialed up the uncomfortable with a few choice moves. Despite these heroic efforts I was offered the job.

Perhaps the most memorable interview was for my first “real” job. I was so unqualified for this one that I had to borrow my roommate’s suit, since I did not own one at the time. I can still recall the moment I entered that intimidating office foyer, ringed by racks of promotional material. I tried to exude managerial competence as I strode towards the interview panel assembled across the room. Instead, the trouser cuff from my roommate’s borrowed suit caught the corner of a pamphlet rack, spinning me off balance. I careened headfirst into the adjacent rack, pulling it and all the resources down upon me with a crash. I lay there, winded, as pamphlets scattered into the air like a thousand paper snowflakes. Agonizing Silence. Agonizing Shame. Eventually, mercifully, one of the interviewers exclaimed, “What an entrance! I mean, HE NAILED that landing!” Somehow, I got the job.

And so, after procrastinating by writing this story, I go now to interview for yet another job for which I am unqualified. I’ll let you know how it goes. If all else fails, I may simply revert to showering in public.

 

 

Photo credit goes to www.tes.com