The Interview

I’m always nervous about interviews. In high school, I was one of those people. You know, the kind that doesn't test well. I got nervous and second guessed myself and ended up changing my answer to the wrong one, even though I nailed the question the night before. All those familiar feelings came back as I sat at the conference room table.

The harsh fluorescent lights were starting to give me a headache. One more thing to be anxious about. “Sorry I’m late,” said the suit who rushed into the room, shutting the door behind him. “I’m Allen, it’s nice to meet you…Greg?” holding out a sweaty hand, which I shook.

“That’s me,” I replied amiably, then wiped my hand on my dress pants.

“Alright, tell me a little about yourself.”

I hate that question. It’s too open ended. Want to know how I broke my arm in seventh grade? That I have a super cute dog? That I hated my last job? “Um, I’m twenty-seven. I, uh, graduated from college, here in town, with a bachelor’s degree in Business Administration...is there anything in particular you would like to know?” I ask. My mouth is uncomfortably dry but the rest of me is uncomfortably soaked with sweat. How does that work?

My resume is on the table between us. Allen swiped it toward himself and took a glance. “Graduated in town too, huh?” he said.

“That’s right. You too?”

“Heh, no.” he muttered, turning the piece of paper and setting it back down. “Why do you think you’ll be a good fit here?”

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More sweat rolled down my back while I searched for an answer. I’d be a good fit because I need a paycheck and you’re offering one. Yeah, that’s definitely the answer he’s looking for. Something professional, I needed an answer that was vague enough to sound appealing. “Well, I’m a team player. I’m punctual, and I...am dedicated to my work.”

Allen nodded slightly and looked up at the ceiling. My heart pounded while I waited for him to say something, anything. “What,” he made a gesture with one hand, like he was feeling around in the air for what words he wanted to pluck out and use. “What do you bring to the company?”

Didn’t I just answer that? I wanted to say something that related to what the company did, which would’ve been easy if I’d known anything about the company. “I bring a willingness to learn, um, I-I pick up things quickly. I...bring a lot of dedication and knowledge from my previous experiences?” I didn’t want that last part to sound like a question...but here we were.

“Cool,” he said. The word hung there like cigarette smoke.

“Is that it?” I asked cautiously.

“Oh...sure,” he said casually. “Do you have any questions for me?”

Somehow that made me even more nervous. Was a short interview a bad sign? “...can you tell me a little more about what Fischer-Powell Sciences does?” I mustered.

Allen shifted in his seat, for the first time, he didn’t look sure of himself. He opened his mouth, then quickly closed it. “Well, we facilitate the...forward progression of our field in...the industry.” He cleared his throat. “What we produce...um, sustains various communities within the market.” I wasn’t sure if it was the lighting or not, but it seemed like his face was getting redder.

“Listen,” he sighed. “I’ll level with you. I was brought on six years ago. I don’t really know what it is we do here and at this point, I’m too afraid to ask. I give a lot of internal presentations and keep everything super vague and, so far, no one’s called me on it.” Allen laughed like someone who finally shrugged an enormous weight off their shoulders. “I think we manufacture...lab supplies?”

I was dumbstruck. “Does…this mean I have the job?”

“Sure,” he laughed. “Why not.” Allen let out a deep sigh and smiled. “Come with me, and we’ll get that paperwork started.”