What does the word ‘interview’ conjure up for you? Are butterflies taking flight somewhere inside or are you excitedly hunting out your lucky pants?!
An interview is defined as a conversation between two people designed to elicit information. It’s not necessarily just about jobs although in my distant past I worked in HR so that’s where the bulk of my memories lie.
Job interviewing done well – when the candidate has a full opportunity to showcase their knowledge or abilities – is a satisfying thing for all parties. Done badly however, it leaves a bit of a stain on the psych. I’ve heard managers ask some terrible questions before all the equal opportunities training came in and some carried on after. So I’m wondering what horrors we might hear about with this bite size memoir prompt! For me, many of my memories are the other side of the desk and job related, but please don’t let that stop you!
I don’t have one over-riding graphic experience to write 150 words for, so I’ve shared 10 x “I remember “ statements. If you’re new to bite size memoir please have a look at the bite size page for guidelines for participating and further links.
I remember interviews
I remember being interviewed by a kind policewoman when I reported a man had groped me, walking under a railway bridge. I knew there was no hope of catching him but he was a campus menace I hoped to add small clues to catching.
I remember a two day graduate assessment when I was so pumped on coffee and adrenalin I lost about half a stone and actually performed a press-up when I got home (First and last, ever!)
I remember a service manager with a beard making long weeks of basic apprentice interviews more interesting by setting challenges like including phrases such as “iced bun” or “fish” into each interview. We scored extra points if we could make it relevant enough for the interviewee to reply! He always won.
I remember the would-be apprentice who we asked to describe what he did at weekends, replying “Oh stuff, you know – a few dodgy deals and that sort of fing.” He didn’t get a job.
I remember having to change a punctured tire on my blue Austin Allegro on the M1 on the way to an interview. I had a hole in my tights but still made it on time. I got the promotion.
I remember the cruel process of interviewing people in down-sizing exercises, coaxing some through the door, mopping up tears and hoping the best kept their jobs.
I remember volunteering to leave my own department to save me and them that agony next time round. My manager thanked me but thought I’d have made the cut.
I remember one manager who liked to trip up the candidates as if scoring points helped determine someone’s suitability. My sarcastic suggestions of “If we try asking the question this way.. we might find out something about him” barely sparked a neuron. He went soon after.
I remember arriving for an interview before a would-be director. She’d forgotten I was coming and what she was interviewing me for. I should have realised she was even scattier than me at that point.
I remember interviewing someone who worked for my husband at a rival company without telling him. The candidate was a bit stunned when I collected them from reception but she got the job!
Deadline: Monday 1st December.