A Career: Not Quite What It Used To Be
>> Thursday, May 24, 2012
I've abseiled down the front of a building in Milton Keynes that looks like a giant shoe, I've pulled a loop-de-loop in a small plane for fun, and I've even bared the uncharted territory that is a hen do, but there are few things that bring up as much trepidation as a job interview. Seriously, there are few things that make me worry more than having to find the right suit, doing some utterly pointless research on the company about their operating history and their turnover that bears no relevance to anything you're going to do there, which will probably be the guy who gets shouted at by clients every time there's a day in the week. You've then got to spend many wasted hours sitting in front of the mirror, perfecting your "interview smile". It needs to be somewhere in between Elvis-lip and psychopathic grin but not obviously fake. You also need to make sure that you don't turn up late, as this sits next to punching the interviewer in the face and suggesting that his wife was a "goer" in terms of bad interview etiquette. If I could redesign the world then I'd make sure, right after I remove wasps for being the single most useless insect ever, that I would simply be given a job based on some other medium. If they could make a brilliant cup of tea, then I see no reason not to make them the Managing Director, for example.
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