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The Interview

The following is a fictional tale based on no actual events…

This was the company you wanted on your resume.  But, I had heard the interview process was grueling.  I could expect plenty of trick questions and technical riddles.

The receptionist called my name.  I walked past the front desk, down a long window-less hallway.  I entered a small office.

A portly gentleman sat behind a faded charcoal colored desk, likely from IKEA.  His face grew a patchy 3-day beard.  His hair was parted and combed neatly, but also appeared wet.  Either he had just showered or he had just run five laps around the building.

As I stood, the man sat.  He gave no introduction.  He only asked that I sit.  So I did.

The old-fashioned clock hanging on the wall above his head reminded me of high school.

The minute hand clicked.

I felt the urge to reposition.  An awkward noise emanated from the chair as my body slurped against the shiny leather.

The clock clicked again.

The interviewer was studying my resume.  Intensely.  As if trying to formulate the perfect opening question.

Another click.

Doubt began to swirl.  Was my resume too wordy?  Was the font legible?

Click.

At last, he took a swig of air and parted his lips to speak.  “It says here you used to work at Tyler Chicken?  What was that like?”.

“Um, I never worked at Tyler Chicken.”

“Oh, I’m sorry!  Is your name George?”

“It’s actually Brian.”

“Thanks.  We’ll let you know.”

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