In which I recap yesterday’s interview at the co-op.
Usually when I walk out of an interview, especially a third interview, I know if I’m going to get the job or not.
This time I have no idea.
I got a business very-casual vibe the first time I interviewed for this job, plus I’m a geek interviewing for a geek job, so yesterday I went wearing a long sleeved brown sweater and gray pants and my closed-toed Birks. I had make-up and jewelry on, but I certainly wasn’t wearing slacks and pumps. I had gotten my nails done so they were short and had a simple French tip this time: not the gold-and-red thing I’d tried the last time and which had turned out looking pretty fugly.
I arrived early and was asked to wait in the lobby. A few minutes later, my interviewers – the HR chick and the head of the Internet department – called me back to the little conference room we’d used before, and we all sat in the same chairs we used last time.
She was dressed a little more business-y than she had been before and was wearing a skirt and heels. He was wearing standard tech-who-deals-with-customers clothes: jeans and a button-down with the company logo.
There were no new questions; they repeated the same stuff from the first interview. Do I have a valid driver’s license? Do I understand the job description? Why do I think I would be the right candidate? I learned that they were looking for the right fit, someone who would stay with the company for awhile. I learned that benefits start immediately, that there’s a clothing budget (employees get to pick out shirts at LL Bean, and have the company logo embroidered on), and that reviews are annual every August.
I learned that there’s a pre-employment physical and drug test, that they check with the state every year to verify that one’s driver’s license is still valid (employees drive fleet vehicles), and that – and this surprised me – per the company’s dress code, facial jewelry is not permitted. “Including my nose pin?!” I blurted out. The HR chick nodded. “You’re kidding me.” She shook her head. “Hmm,” I said. “I really don’t like that. I’ve had this thing in my face for practically twenty years.”
The department head is Indian. I doubt he even noticed it.
The job includes driving, network monitoring, and on-call time. “Do you have issues with being on call?” he asked.
“Nope, but I do have a hobby that is very important to me. I’m in a band. I will want to have some Saturday evenings off call so that I can gig.” I explained that I usually knew weeks in advance of those dates, and he seemed to think it would be no problem to shuffle the on-call schedule to accommodate me.
The HR chick stared at my nails again. She did it during the first interview, too, but at the time I figured it was because they were very long and very tacky. This time I couldn’t figure it out. I also felt like a jackass showing up in a plain, brown sweater when she was reading the dress code standard. After she explained about the clothing stipend, I said, “The great thing about uniforms is that you don’t have to decide what to wear in the morning!” She nodded at me and smiled, but I got the impression she didn’t really like me for the job and she especially didn’t approve of the way I looked.
She’s originally from the banking industry, though, while I’m applying at my fifth ISP. The dress standards are different. They just are. It’s a lot of why I work in the Internet industry in the first place: I don’t have to wear arch-dropping shoes, or yeast infection-inducing undergarments, or take out my freakin’ nose pin.
The department head, though, never once spoke of the job duties in the abstract. Instead of saying, “The position will require the applicant to be on call,” for instance, he said, “We’ve decided that you’ll be on call every other week, and [the other guy in the department] and I will rotate the other weeks,” and, “Sometimes he and I will be out adjusting radios, and you’ll be in the office checking signal strength. Or you could be out adjusting the radios, whichever you like best.”
He asked if it would be a problem if they decided to require a CCNA. “Not at all,” I said. “I’m studying for mine now!” Then we spent a few minutes using a bunch of Cisco acronyms. I admitted that I’d been really gung ho to study when I got laid off, but that my discipline was now flagging and being required to sit for the test would probably help me get motivated.
There was some off-topic chatting, some laughter, and we very nearly went over to see “the hut,” where the successful applicant will be working, but didn’t. The interview lasted about forty minutes.
I walked out of there utterly unsure about my chances. I think they like me, and I also think they don’t. I honestly cannot tell.
It sounds like a great job. The work is perfect. I’d get to learn about point-to-point wireless, a delivery modality I know virtually nothing about! The department head seems really easy going. I honestly don’t mind wearing LL Bean shirts with logos on them, and I can easily buy some jeans. (I don’t own any jeans. Can you believe that? It’s like I’m a space alien or something. Who doesn’t own any jeans?)
The nose pin thing is an issue for me, of course, but not a deal breaker. If I fight a mild battle and lose, I can easily take it out… it’s just that there will be a gross and unsightly hole in my face. (My nose pin is Indian, so it’s a huge gauge compared to the tiny little pins most Americans wear.) The Internet department is actually a separate entity for various legal reasons; my nascent theory is that I may be able to find some sort of loophole that lets me keep my jewelry in. I really don’t think nose pins are on par with, say, eyebrow or lip rings, and I also don’t think anyone’s ever gonna see me in the hut. Maybe I could just take it out during truck rolls.
Ugh. I feel like I’m seventeen, dealing with this ridiculous ‘facial jewelry’ issue. I really don’t wanna have to take my fucking nose ring out for work.
But the pay is good, benefits start immediately, and I’d get to learn new stuff. I still have two more companies to pay off before I get out of debt settlement, and I just don’t know that I’m ready to move away yet. Some time working at this co-op would be really great in terms of fattening my resume and getting some certs. It sounds like a dream job (except for the stupid dress code OMGWTFBBQ!!!1! I feel all funny every time I think about it) and though it’s not within walking distance it is close enough that I could ride my bike (if I ever get the new back tire put on it).
Long story short, I don’t know if they’ll make me an offer but I sincerely hope they do.
