I have a job interview today. A real live job interview. It’s not over the phone or Zoom or that insidious HireVue piece of crap interview thing. Nope. This is a face to face, one on one, shake your hand, look you in the eyes interview.
If only I actually wanted this job. It’s a corporate training position at a tech company—total bro culture. Actually, it’s worse than that. It’s a tech company in Utah County—Mormon bro culture. I’d rather date a guy with a mustache.
I so don’t want this job, but beggars can’t be choosers and I need one. A job.
The front desk of this office is manned by—wait for it—a mannequin. A mannequin that probably came from a Lerner’s store back in the 80s. The mannequin is wearing jeans, a baseball cap, and a t-shirt emblazoned with the corporate logo. I’m guessing the mannequin is male, based on the lack of boobage. I can’t decide if it makes more sense that a bro culture would have a male mannequin or if they’d have a female mannequin with huge boobs and a v-neck t-shirt revealing fake, plastic cleavage.
Beyond the front desk is a blur of cubicles. I hear murmurs of male voices. Either no one has noticed that I’ve come through the door, or no one cares. I walk around a little bit, hoping someone will see me from his peripheral vision. I’m hoping that Gary, my interviewer, will have been paying attention to the clock and listening for my arrival.
Five minutes. Just the mannequin and me hangin’ out in the lobby of the latest cutting-edge, trail-blazing, innovative, revolutionary, Utah County tech company. Woot.
Should I clear my throat? Cough? Walk back to the cubicles and ask which one of these 22 year olds is Gary?
22 year olds are always on their phones. If I send Gary an email, he’ll get the notice that he has an e-mail, he won’t be able to resist checking it—despite the fact that he’s in a very important meeting—he’ll discover that I’m here, and he’ll come out to greet me and begin the interview for this job that I don’t really even want.
And that’s exactly what happens.
A bro in his 30s walks out to the lobby. Not surprisingly, his jeans, t-shirt, and baseball cap match the mannequin’s.
Gary is all smiles, friendly. Shakes my hand. Gary is impressive. Gary seems like a really cool guy.
Maybe I judged this company and the mannequin too harshly. Maybe this would be an awesome place to work. The right heels look fabulous with the right jeans and the right t-shirt; I think I could totally do this!
Aaaaaaand then Gary starts the interview.
And that’s when I know. I know that even if I wanted this job, I totally cannot do this.
I totally can’t even.