Interviews: How to Put Your Best Foot Forward (and Not in Your Mouth)

Posted on September 18, 2013 by Is Everyone an Idiot but Me?

Reflecting upon my recent interviews, I realized, I am either getting better at this, or interviews are getting easier. To be honest, I think they are getting easier. The last few I’ve had I just had to smile and listen. I barely even spoke, which might be why they went so well. I’m sure I am also getting better at them, but that isn’t saying much. I am so epically terrible at interviews, I had nowhere to go but up. Let’s take a brief tour through my Interview Hall of Shame as I share some of the tips I’ve learned over the years.

One of my very first interviews ever was my admissions interview with a Duke alum:

“So, you have been working at the FDA. Are you interested in science?”

“No, not really.” I apparently felt no need to elaborate.

Tip #1: Interview questions are very rarely meant as ‘yes’ or ‘no’ questions.

“…so why do you work there?”

“You know, a job is a job.” Gotta get them dolla dolla bills, ya feel me?

Tip #2: You don’t have to lie, but you don’t have to be brutally honest either. You win no points for being frank and indifferent.

Though she had probably already written me off, the interview went on.

“I see you write for the school paper. What are some articles you have written?”

“Well, I just wrote this one about ideas for Valentine’s gifts as an alternative to flowers and chocolates. Like, if your girlfriend really likes cheese, you could get her a block of cheese. And other stuff… I don’t remember.”

“Cheese?”

“Yeah, it was funnier in the article. You had to be there.”

I could tell, she was not impressed.

Tip #3: Don’t talk about cheese in an interview. No matter what your favorite movies tell you, cheese is not a good ice breaker.

Image credit: http://www.tumblr.com

Years later I had a similarly unpleasant interview for an HR analyst job. I think. I am not sure now what it was for, nor was I ever, which was a big part of why the interview failed. I got on the phone and really just had no idea what this lady was talking about. I very haphazardly bs-ed my way through her questions and most of my answers sounded a lot like this:

Image credit: http://www.fanpop.com

I wasn’t even prepared for the most obvious question of all: “What interested you about this job?” Woah, didn’t see that one coming! I don’t remember what lie I eventually came up with as my answer, but nothing is convincing after a long pause and an “uhhhhhhh.”

Tip #4: Always be prepared to answer obvious said question. Also, know what job you are being interviewed for.

Around that time, to pay the bills while I was job hunting, I got a part-time job at Pottery Barn Kids. Luckily, I had learned my lesson and knew to anticipate that sneaky “Why do you want this job?” question. When asked, I answered, “It’s close to my house….yeah, that’s pretty much it.” Nailed it!

Image credit: go.lawlogix.com

I had learned from Tip #3, but had already forgotten Tip #1: nobody needs to know what you really think. I still got the job, but my manager later told me that she didn’t want to hire me. Sounds about right.

Shortly after that, I finally got my head on straight and managed to make it through an interview without making a total ass of myself. Until the last question.

“What are you passionate about?”

Um, I’m sorry, what? I’m not one of those people who is ‘passionate’ about things. I’m passionate about not leaving the toilet paper roll empty. I’m passionate about not wearing leggings as pants and other inappropriate wardrobe choices. I’m passionate about dogs and people respecting my personal space. But if you expect me to come up with a real answer here where I talk about my ambitions or hobbies…

Image credit: http://www.tumblr.com

I got nothin. Now at this point, a lot of time has passed. A lot more than is necessary to answer a very simple question about my interests. She was tossing me a softball here. This was not supposed to be the ‘stump her’ question. The interviewer had a look on her face like, “Did I say something wrong? Did I break her?” because I’m looking at her like she has just uncovered my darkest secret.

http://www.the-mainboard.com

So it’s time to spring into action. I start thinking of an answer. Can I say TV? I love my TV shows? No that is extremely pathetic and lame. Should I say world peace? No, God, this isn’t Miss America. What does she want to hear, volunteering? Training for marathons? Finally I just blurted something out to put us all out of our misery.

Tip #5: It is great to think about your answer, but at a certain point, you need to just say something, anything. Because the longer you spend thinking, the better the end result should be, and after a certain period of extended silence, you hit a point of diminishing returns. You just aren’t going to be able to live up to the expectations you’ve created, so it’s best to just cut your losses and give the best answer you have at the time. And as long as the answer isn’t “nah” or “cheese,” you should be okay.

What are some of your interview lessons learned, worst interview questions and answers, or other interview horror stories? Please do share, and make me feel like less of an idiot:)

Idiot of the Week: Reason #341 Not to Go out in Public

Posted on September 11, 2013 by Is Everyone an Idiot but Me?

People: one of the many reasons I don’t like going out in public. More specifically, people whose voices carry their moronic conversations over to my ears and make me want to perform a chopstick lobotomy. If I’m not part of your conversation, but can still hear every word of it, you are too loud. If I am responding to your rhetorical questions a table away, you are too loud. As fun as it is to make sarcastic commentary that you can’t hear because I know what an “inside voice” is, I would still prefer that you have your conversation and I have mine. I didn’t come out to a restaurant to be inundated with stupid from every table around me.

This weekend I was sitting a table away from a particularly loud-mouthed 20-something. She had just graduated college, so naturally she knew everything about everything. She was in the process of explaining the ways of the world to her mother and younger brother when she came upon the subject of the metro. The metro really isn’t that bad, she explained, but you do have to deal with the occasional creep who tries to hit on you, or worse, cop a feel on a crowded train. As an expert on the topic, she took a moment to explain to her mother and brother just how annoying it is to be hit on by strangers, because nobody really understands it quite as well as she does. “It’s not just that you are getting hit on,” she explained further, “it’s that it is always by these ‘gross’ people, like working class, blue-collar people, like people who are in a lower social class — I know that sounds bad,” she acknowledged, “but you know what I mean,” she defended.

You know what a good thing to do is when something sounds bad out loud? Don’t say it! Especially when your voice is a shout and 20 people are going to hear you. Or, even better, take a second to think about why it sounds bad (because there is probably a very good reason!) and then maybe think about what you really mean and rephrase your elitist, ignorant comment before it comes tumbling out of the loudspeaker that is your mouth.

Being in the ‘working class’ does not make you gross, nor does it make you a womanizer. Don’t stereotype every working class guy into your image of the construction worker who cat calls women as they pass. Working class men aren’t inmates in a men’s prison, starved of regular exposure to the female population. They have wives and girlfriends just like everyone else. They are not automatically interested in you because they perform manual labor. Grabbing a girl’s ass on the metro makes you gross. Leering down someone’s blouse makes you a creep. It doesn’t matter if you are wearing coveralls or an $800 suit.

Would she prefer that only CEOs and college professors ogle and grope her on the metro? Yes, that is so flattering and romantic! *Swoon* Who gives a shit what he does for a living – a creep is a creep! Here is an idea for you – repeat what you just said next time you are on the metro – you might get hit, but I promise you won’t get hit on. Problem solved!

Glad I got that off my chest! Now it’s your turn! Vent about the biggest idiot you encountered this week in a post, then share the link in the link-up below anytime between now and Sunday. Don’t forget to include this badge in the post! (Get the badge code on the Idiot of the Week tab). Check back at the end of the day on Monday to see who had the most likes!

Middle School Picture Day? Yes, Please Memorialize the Most Awkward Time of My Life

Posted on September 11, 2013 by Is Everyone an Idiot but Me?

You don’t know it at the time, but Middle School Picture Day is for you. Elementary School Picture Day is most definitely for your parents, because they know they are about to lose you, and want to capture these last moments of cuteness. High School Picture Day is definitely for you, because you finally look remotely decent and you’ve got a professional there to document it.

But Middle School Picture Day? Who is that helping? Who is ever going to want to look at this atrocity, you think to yourself as you sit hunched over on a stool because you are still feeling a little awkward about having boobs, smiling tentatively for the photographer, careful not to snag your lips on your braces. Your parents aren’t going to show that shit around, “Here is my daughter, she’s going through puberty, it’s not going well.” You aren’t going to pass these out to your friends, “In case you don’t get a good enough look all day, here is a terrible photo of me for your amusement on nights and weekends.” And you certainly don’t want them for yourself. You already know that when the proofs are handed out in class you are going to turn them face down, shove them into your trapper keeper, and cut them into tiny pieces as soon as you get home, as you cry to yourself, “Is that what I really look like?!”

Photo Credit: nedhardy.com

No, you don’t know it then. But the Middle School Picture is for you. It’s just for you in ten years. When you have transformed from an ugly duckling into a swan, and can look back on that picture and appreciate how far you’ve come. It’s for you to turn to on a shitty day and think, Actually, I can’t complain. At least I don’t have braces. At least I don’t shop at the Limited Too anymore. And at least I’m not in the seventh ~~circle of hell~~ grade. Yeah, I guess my life is pretty good. It’s for you to trot out at work and social events to shock and amaze your audience. “Yup, I swear, that fat kid with the uni-brow, that was me.” The hideous portrait you once cried yourself to sleep over is now an affirmation of self, because of how little you resemble it. The Awkward Middle School Picture is a battle scar. It says: look at what I have overcome. I survived that. You don’t know it then – that one day you’d be proud to have ever been so ugly.

Monday Mad-Lib Madness

Posted on September 9, 2013 by Is Everyone an Idiot but Me?

So I Went Undercover is hosting a mad-libs contest in the form of an open letter to someone who has done you wrong. You take the form letter provided and fill in your specific details in the parentheses. See how I put the ‘mad’ in mad-libs in this very angry Open Letter to the Lady Who Cut Me in Line. I don’t want to set expectations too high, but I do think this is much better than the last mad-lib I did, which relied solely on the use of the noun ‘buttface’ and the adjective ‘poopy’ for humor:

Dear (Lady who cut me in line and had the nerve to yell at me when I called you out on it),

I have been trying to forget that I feel this way for quite a while, but I can’t pretend anymore. I am really (confused about what just happened). You know when you (walked right up to the front of the line and pretended like you just wanted to stand in the shade, but really, you wanted to cut the line because you are a lazy, entitled shit?) Well, let me share how that makes me feel… When you (act like rules don’t apply to you, and then act bewildered and victimized when I point those rules out to you, and then verbally harass me to deflect attention from yourself), I feel (like I want to punch you in the face.) Not so much (offended,) or even (indignant,) but really, really (hungry for violent retaliation.) It makes me want to (I dunno, retaliate violently, with my foot, ooh or a bat!) I would like to think that I am not the only one who feels this way. As a matter of fact, you know (those 30 other people in line that you cut in front of too?) Well they told me that (they hate you too.)

You know what they say: If one person says you’re a (rude, psychotic bitch), you can forget it. When two people say you’re a (rude psycho b), you might want to consider it. When three people say you’re (an RPB), you might want to (take a good hard look in the mirror and get the fuck out.) It’s about that time for you, (RPB.) Think about that.

Since we are being so honest, there are a few other things I would like to air. I hate it when you (try to change the subject by repeatedly saying, “I just knew you were going to say something, I knew it!” ) It makes me (want to scream, “Big fucking deal!” because really, how is that your defense? Why the hell wouldn’t I say something when you march your fat ass up here and park it in front of me in line like that is a totally normal and socially acceptable thing to do?)

I also hate the way you (keep putting your hand in my face.) Every time you do it I want to (put my hand) in your (face and proceed to slap the shit out of it.)

Also, (self-righteous indignation) is not your real friend. Remember that secret that you shared? Well (your obvious guilt) shared it with everyone. Now everyone knows you (are a rule-breaking buttface) and they all laugh at you behind your back.

I don’t want you to get the wrong idea. I really like you. I value our relationship. But I cannot go on pretending (this violation) hasn’t happened. If you care enough about me and this relationship, I am sure you would agree to (leave, leave and never come back).

Still friends?

Fondly,

If you’d like to play along, join the fun here: http://soiwentundercover.wordpress.com/2013/08/22/open-letter-ad-libs/