Thursday, May 31, 2001

I went to an interview on Tuesday to (once again) start my search for the perfect job. Aside from a bone-headed headhunter who gave me the wrong address for the interview (I was ten minutes late and suitably stressed because of it) the interview seemed pretty normal. Oil company big technology boss was looking for a right hand man. He seemed nice enough, but very formally casual in dresspants and a tie (with the suit jacket back in his office, probably), under the gun and looking slightly annoyed that I was late. I knew the interview was going to be rushed when the interviewer said that he had a meeting right after the half-hour (now twenty minute) interview. Sure enough, just as it was getting interesting, he got a call on the omnipresent cell phone and said, "No, I won't be long, just a couple of minutes." snap - the cel phone is shut - Then, back to me - "So, do you have any questions?"


He told me I was one of seven applicants, and they would get back to the agency if they wanted me to come for a second interview.

After the interview, I left the small meeting room on the forty-second floor of this monolith of a building, walked past the executive's secretary who seemed very stiff and proper, got on the elevator and cursed the day that Jonathan Klein decided to take over the place at which I used to love to work.

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