A Job Interview: One for the Record Books

Today, I had a job interview. This was my second job interview since becoming unemployed. I know I’m likely overreacting, but allow me to recount today’s awkward/embarrassing/ego-bruising morning.

While vacationing last week, I was contacted by the owner of a small digital agency in Chelsea per my friend Mune’s recommendation (I owe her). You can image my excitement as I sat down for breakfast at a cafe inside Paris Las Vegas when I received the email. I apologetically ignored my cousin for a few moments while I anxiously tapped away at my phone writing my response.

After several email exchanges, an interview was officially scheduled. I spent some time brushing up on the company and doing the necessary pre-interview research while on my flight en route to JFK. Gotta love inflight WiFi! Last night, I pored over my wardrobe pulling every sensible shirt, blouse, skirt, dress, cardigan and dress pants I owned while sending picture texts to my sister for approval. With a 90-degree day on the horizon, I needed something chic and airy that covered my tattoos — not an easy task.

I finally hit the sheets around midnight ensuring I set the alarm on my phone for 6:30 a.m. to allow myself enough time to get ready and to travel. Chelsea is a good 50 minutes from Greenpoint, and one can never predict how the trains will be running. I turned up the volume on my phone and fell into a deep sleep.

At 6:00 a.m., I woke up. I knew I had a half hour of sleep so I closed my eyes. At 8 a.m. I woke up again on my own. No alarm. No sound. Nothing. At. eight. in. the. fucking. morning! (Pardon my French, but I was beyond frantic.) I dashed into the shower, shaking and dizzy. I stumbled back into my room to throw on my dress (thankfully, I picked an outfit out the night before), put on some makeup and attempt to do something with my damp hair.

Job interview outfit image

At 8:40 a.m., I ran out the door and speed walked to the G. I was already 10 minutes behind schedule. I caught the G as it arrived. Relieved, I rode the G to Court Square and rushed to the E. While on the E, I quickly applied clear nail polish to my fingernails. I’ve become pretty good at multitasking. Then the E stopped mid-route. Cool! I frantically glanced at the time. I still had about a half hour. After walking down 26th Street in the wrong direction (naturally, as this would be my luck), I turned around and finally arrived at my destination with about 10 minutes to spare.

Then I got lost. Oh, so very, very lost in the giant office building maze that was all gray walls, black doors and arrows pointing in many different directions. I called the loft, and someone came to fetch me. I was 10 minutes late, completely embarrassed, flushed pink (probably bright red) and there were beads of sweat rolling down my back. At that moment when I walked into the office and shook hands with the owner, I wanted to crawl under a rock and hide forever. I had no idea what I even looked like — a sweaty, frizzy-haired mess, I’m sure.

It doesn’t end there, and I hope I haven’t lost your attention. I realize this post is lengthy, but I’m trying to paint a picture. The small open-concept office was calm, cool and well-decorated with earthy tones and plants. As we chatted, I began to finally calm down. And then it happened. If you’ve read or are reading 50 Shades of Grey, I totally had my awkward Ana-falls-head-first-into-Christian’s-office moment.

I decided to be slightly nerdy, hopefully smart by bringing out two books that I’ve been reading about SEO and understanding Google analytics when my comb flew out of my bag and onto the rug below. Mortified, I quickly scooped it up and threw it in my tote. All I could think about was how I would recover and whether or not the interview could possibly get any worse. I have replayed that moment over and over again in my head and am still wildly embarrassed.

The interview ended, we said farewell after chatting for a bit in the cafe downstairs and I left the office building at around 11 a.m. Sighing a giant sigh of relief (or perhaps of self-pity), I slowly walked with blistered feet to the E — head down in embarrassment. Stone-faced and deflated, I made my way back to Greenpoint listening to entirely too loud music blasting from my headphones. I have no idea if I will land this job, but this is surely one interview I will never forget.

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5 thoughts on “A Job Interview: One for the Record Books

  1. Just a comb? Meh, don’t be embarrassed. You could have pulled out a copy of 50 Shades of Grey instead of your SEO books. THAT would have been embarrassing in an interview.

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  2. Too hard on yourself sissy. Things could be…way worse! These experiences always make for good stories and better ways to prepare for the next time;) Guaranteed no one noticed all of the things YOU thought “went wrong.”

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