Eurotrash

Fragile eyes look away.

So yesterday I had a second interview with a company considered super trendy in the industry: a small boutique pestilence agency, nice job title to get : Dickhead of Pest Planning. I took the whole day of work to prepare, finished work as early as possible, then run to the place.

The hiring manager could not see me after 6:30 so I had to run like Forest to reach their glossy office of central London in time.

Unfortunately, when I had reached the headquarters, the receptionistas had already left, so I had to stuck my sweaty body to their glass door, and waved for the late workers to let me in.

I was probably dishevelled, because the young guy who saw me and opened the door bared a very wary face. He asked me who I was and why I was here. I said I was Miserable Middle Manager, here for an interview with Cynthia Bladder.

He asked me if I knew what she looked like.

I found it weird, but although I had already seen her Angela Bower face on Linkedin, I said : no I don’t know, I have never seen her, I come for an interview.

I don’t know what I said that, I guess I got worried that the child had found out I was in fact a stalker.

Eventually someone else came, someone very blond told me to sit down and brought me a glass of water.

So I sat down.

And waited

And waited

Yesterday the sun was shining and since I had run, I was sweaty.

I became angry at Bladder and I did something weird : I swiped my armpits with my right hand.

and waited again.

20 minutes later she was here, all fresh and bubbly – an American woman. She apologized, she was on the phone. Okay.

I usually like American people, they are very friendly and not too hypo.

So we sat down and started to chat. She had old fashioned questions, I was ready, confident, excited, technical, whatever. I felt the interview was going well.

Until she told me that she liked my technical profile (which I am running away from) and that she was starting to realise that I would be better for another role. That she would be thinking about other roles more suited to my profile.

...

She asked me if I had other questions. I had one more, some bullshit question about the size and personality of the team – but who cared about the idiots since I just learnt I wouldn’t manage them.

She put an end to the interview, thanked me very much, told me she would be in touch with the agent and held her hand...

...which I happily shaked with my right hand...

...for the second time.