Recent Interview

[EscapedMentalPatientParticipant 1489]

Oh I know that scene. The f~~~ing c~~~-blocking and backstabbing that goes on is sick. It’s like getting a job into todays HR-infested labor market. Not only are you representing yourself to the company, but you have to deal with the totally uninvolved “represantative” who is not qualified, has nothing to do with it, has totally ridiculous criteria, and actually stands in the way of the company finding the right person.

HR virtually guarantees a company end up with a substandard person who’s only skill is telling them what they want to hear. The “gay best friend” guarantees she ends up with the same s~~~…. and it’s OK with him, because he always gets to be number one in her life. She would rather go shoe shopping and bitch about her boyfriend over a few lattes than meet or date the right guy.

 

I had to quote Keymaster from another thread on this one, as he has once again hit the nail squarely on the head.  Good old HR goes straight out of their way to ensure that the mandate of hiring has nothing to do with filling a position with a qualified person in the given discipline.  This is a long read, and is a true story;  it’s meant for light reading if you are bored, and perhaps enjoy my sense of humour.

I work in the EPC sector, which is taking a pretty severe beating at the moment due to current oil prices.  Early last year, before I was laid off, I was reaching out to some opportunities which were current at the time.  I was looking to get out of a position which I found to be highly unrewarding.

A recruiter contacted me in this case;  they were seeking out people from my discipline for an opening with a major drilling fabrication company based out of the United States, but with several satellites in Canadian regions.  Said company had pretty attractive compensation, great benefits, a decent retirement package and the like.  While I tend not to gravitate towards major companies, it seemed like a fairly good opportunity at the time, so I accepted an interview.

Let the games begin.

As I always do, I arrived early at this “Palace”.  I walk through the front door into the vestibule of the place, and it smells of big money right off the bat.  There is a wall mounted water fountain behind a secretary, who is sitting at a desk that is half the size of the room.  She is dressed up in classic power women clothing, and has obviously spent half of her life doing her hair.  Glass tables, leather armcharis and artwork abound; digital television screens prompting views of their latest, greatest achievements.

I walk up to the secretary / greeter / waste of skin and inform her that I have an interview for 2 o’clock pm.  She is staring dumbly at me, with this painted-on, ridiculous smile.  Though I was frightened by what seemed to be a face evolving into a massive wall of teeth, I thought I had better soldier on.  There was a discernible pause before she says in this condescending sing song voice: “Did you baaaaaack into your parking space?”; to which I replied “No, I didn’t.”.  She then slowly shakes her head back and forth, and maintains eye contact with an ever-increasing ridiculous smile without saying anything.  I thought I would draw out the pause a bit, as she looked completely retarded and I was nearly enjoying the small moment of power which this moronic entity was clearly savouring.  This autistic-looking gesture continued for another good ten seconds before I finally broke the moment of sheer weirdness with a “What????”  The woman had obviously observed me NOT backing into the visitor’s parking spot through one of the six million shaded glass panes that were part of the facade of the building, but couldn’t just offhandedly say “Excuse me, could you please back into the parking stalls?  Its a little company policy thing”.  Instead, she had to make this about SOMETHING. In her defense, I noticed after leaving the interview that there was a postage-stamp sized sign requesting people to back into the parking stalls at one of the entrances/exits to the facility.   She stated “You have to BAAAAAACK into the parking stalls”  in a slow, condescending voice which immediately brought out a nearly irresistible urge in me to whip out little willy and have a gigantic p~~~ into her coffee mug (on which whatever cute and cuddly kitten of the f~~~ing week was emblazoned upon).  Reluctantly, and in keeping my cool, I walked back outside and re-parked my car so as to rectify this unmentionable infraction, which shouldn’t have been f~~~ing mentioned to a prospective candidate to begin with.

At this point she shoves forward a sign-in log for visitors.  Slowly and deliberately, she slides this log across the counter as if she is handing me a newly found fragment of the Dead Sea Scrolls.  She has since regained eye contact and not broken the smile which has since devolved into something that made her look like the offspring of Batman’s “The Joker”, getting drunk and f~~~ing a white picket fence while on leave from messing with Gotham.  I signed my name and grabbed one of the laminated “Guest” tags laid out on her half-acre sized desk, and proceeded over to one of the leather arm-chairs.  I started to flip through one of the engineering periodicals laid out on the glass coffee table to pass the time, and happened to glance up after a couple of minutes.  There she is, still staring at me, the grin having evolved into that of a great white shark, Sans rotting bits of flesh.  It would have been nice to have had Roy Scheider’s cylinder of compressed air and an M-1 Garand to end this insanity, but the best I could do at the time was manage an eyebrow raise in her direction before returning to my cup of coffee and the magazine.

I hear the Click-Clack-Click-Clack-Click-Clack of an insidious pair of high heels clapping their way down a marble floor, which sounded to be the length of an American football field.  Whomever was making this gigantic, laborious trek down the hallway wasn’t in danger of winning any foot races races against a Kenyan.

After what seemed an eternity of someone traversing the hallway, this diminutive, war-painted little t~~~ in way too high-heels appears at the corner of the desk accompanied by yet another huge leering grin.  Upon gazing at the two of them with their twin s~~~-eating grins and gaping eye sockets, I quickly decide that this facility is manned by creepy f~~~ing robots which have been ordered from the planet X-B-28 Vagilactica.  I now have my coffee mug gripped in such a fashion that I might use it as a weapon to smash my way out of this wall of teeth, and flee to my properly parked car if needs be.

“Mr. _______??” She says in a disturbingly musical cadence.  “Yes.”, I calmly state back to her, being mindful that I also have my keys in my pocket if I need to use them to gash my way to safety should it be necessary.  “Weeeeeee’re ready for you now”.  Ready for what, I’m imagining.  Am I to open the back of their skulls and replace the 0.5 Volt batteries running these abominations?

I follow her painfully slow gait down the hallway into a small office.  Seated at a small, rounded table are two other members of the failed reproductive persuasion.  The place reeks of estrogen, 2 for 1 shoes and 90 dollar an ounce hair conditioner.

I pull a chair out and sit down.  After about two seconds, one of them says “Please have a seat”.  I could already detect the hiss belaboured on the “S” of the word “seat”, as if I’ve committed my first infraction of the interview by not waiting to be invited to sit.  Let it be known now that at that point I already did not f~~~ing care, as I had no intention of working at Vagiville.  Looking at the three of them, I’d quickly deduced that not a single one of them was from my discipline, and that I was being interviewed by not one, but three f~~~ing representatives of the HR department.

The interview that followed is precisely why I’ve long ago given up working for large, PC organizations.  The interview took 48 minutes of my time.

“Have you ever experienced conflict in your job, and if so, can you tell us how you dealt with that conflict”.   (My entire f~~~ing job IS conflict, and it would be better put to say “How do you strategically deal with the conflict inherent in your position on a daily basis?”)  “Please tell us what you like to do in your off-time”.  “This position requires that you work inter-departmentally, how would you rate your communication skills”.  “Our company is an equal opportunity employer, and offers site specific development courses” (Enter castration program designed to masquerade as Sensitivity Training, as my field is extremely male dominated, as is the industry; at least on the actual real, functioning level).  None of these standardized, bulls~~~ HR questions were particularly difficult to answer and can nominally be expected if you are being interviewed by people outside of the department.  The following question toward the end really set me off though:

“We are currently pursuing an equity policy to ensure that there is fair and real social representation of Canadian culture at _______, would you care to self-identify?”.  I have to tell you that it took every fibre of my being to not completely f~~~ing tear into them at that point.  Here they were, clearly and obviously looking to hire a transvestite, developmentally challenged (any woman will do), physically challenged, female or any person deemed to be a minority so as to fill an equity gap.

WHY……….the F~~~…………would you have me drive fifty kilometres, take up half of my afternoon, and drive me bat-s~~~ crazy just so you could cover all of your bases.  They clearly had no intention of hiring a straight, middle-aged, white male with facial hair, b~~~~ and an actual knowledge of the discipline for which they were recruiting.  They could have put on PAPER that they had fulfilled this requirement, and not wasted my goddamned time.

After more time explaining their “Yoga Program” (I s~~~ you not, once a week there was a mandatory one-hour Yoga class in the workplace), the monthly inter-departmental lunch to be put on in a rotation with each department cooking a lunch (NOT BOUGHT, YOU HAD TO COOK IT) for the other departments, the Employee Assistance Program, and several other little “perks” that were so obviously based on female demand, the interview was over.  I also had to sign a non-disclosure agreement about the interview itself in order to proceed with being hired. (how convenient is that?).

Let me tell you this:  my job requires a pretty vast use of engineering code and client specification, based directly on several ASME, API, CSA, and federal, provincial and municipal technical documents that can be a full-time job in and of themselves.  The design, manufacture and procurement of modern oilfield equipment has become an intense, highly competitive technical market.

Not once, not even ONCE during this three quarters of an hour was a solitary question based on technical prowess asked of me.  The field that I work in, like many, is highly specialized, and it is by no means one of those positions which you can “slide by” or “Slip Through The Cracks” in.  You either know your s~~~, or you don’t, and if you f~~~ up, there are grave repercussions in the financial and legal sense which will 99% of the time immediately cost you your job, no exceptions in my experience.  These HR people, whether they were in common representation of the entire organization, or whether that was just the prevailing attitude of this particular satellite had absolutely no interest in knowing that I was qualified or competent for the position being offered.  They simply wanted someone who was already a f~~~ing social justice prick, or someone who was completely malleable to their needs.

I am very happy to report that this particular company is now actually filing for protection in Bankruptcy.  When I read that in the paper, I felt an absolutely indescribable feeling of joy in knowing that these types of organizations are FINALLY beginning to bleed to death from their own self-inflicted wounds.  This will be a trend that will be coming to fruition more often, and it may sound petty, but I can honestly say that I rejoice in knowing that these vaginally run companies will all meet the same fate, and that their incompetent leaders will be out pounding pavement without having any real experience in their very own disciplines.

In a way, I hope they are hired quickly, so that they might accelerate the downfall of other organizations which are Communist in nature, but purport to be part of the Capitalist free world.

Rejoice in the prowess you have in your respective fields gentlemen; it’s not something that can be usurped or faked.

Cheers.

 

[– Deleted on Request –Spectator 936]

Willy:

 

By what you’ve described, I may well have been at that same place at some time in the past.  Just going through that is enough to make one relieved not to get the job.

 

I went through nonsense like that when I’ve had interviews since I left my teaching position.  I’m an engineer and not once did anybody ever ask me to give an opinion about a technical problem.  They were all worried about my “soft skills” or my “people skills” or whatever the dickens Oprah-like tendencies I might have had.  I’m glad that I was never asked to “self-identify” as I would seriously have been tempted to give an answer like “intelligent” or “professional”, which, I’m sure wouldn’t have gone over well.  Unless it has a direct bearing on my job, what I do after hours, how I do it, and where I do it is nobody’s business.

 

But that’s nothing new.  I once had an interview with a company in another province.  This took place more than 30 years ago, and, back then, one gave information such as personal interests in one’s application.  I liked classical music and reading, and still do, but that was held against me by one of the interviewers who would later become my section head.  His reason?  Those activities didn’t show that I was a “team player”.

 

I actually did get the job and accepted the offer.  Had I known how things would turn out, I would have declined.  I didn’t even last a year there and one of my detractors turned out to be that same person.  I guess he never got over that point and continued to use it as a reason for having me fired.

 

[EscapedMentalPatientParticipant 1489]

@QWV

But that’s nothing new.  I once had an interview with a company in another province.  This took place more than 30 years ago, and, back then, one gave information such as personal interests in one’s application.  I liked classical music and reading, and still do, but that was held against me by one of the interviewers who would later become my section head.  His reason?  Those activities didn’t show that I was a “team player”.

A very excellent example of definitive proof of this false patriarchy that feminists have devised to protect themselves.  They don’t seem to understand that people can be discriminated against PERIOD.  It has nothing to do with a Patriarchy.  In this classic example, someone discriminated against you, and a classic example that throughout the ages, men have faced the challenges of discrimination on many levels, from their own kind long before Feminists came up with the myth of the Patriarchy.

I really liked your post.  And I wholeheartedly agree with the “Personal Interests” thing.  Imagine, someone acting as if they can deduce anything at all about you from you listing some extra-curricular things about yourself.  What an utter joke.  How strange that this man would think that you liking Classical music might somehow indicate that you aren’t a team player.  It would seem lost on him that Classical music can require an entire orchestra of dozens of people performing roles simultaneously in perfect mathematical precision.  Nope……..that doesn’t sound like teamwork at all.  wtf.  Yessiree bob……….reading (which kind of exercises the mind last time I checked) and precision music are definitely strikes against an Engineer. (sarcasm off).

[harpo-my-“SON”Participant 2410]

This was great read I can relate. Just the sound of the term “Human Resource” makes me wanna puke. Staffing agencies are no better. The staffing agency is who they call between the time they realize HR is a bunch of morons and the time they go bankrupt. I have cut out all middle persons between “My skills, services and time of life” and those I contract it to.Thats my definition of my right to work. The exclusive (excluding everyone else) right to contract my skills services and time of life as I see fit. Not as some HR department would see fit. Good to have you back WillyT73.

I didn’t get back to you last night, as they had some glitch and hard reboot of some sort. Heavy visitor traffic was what I was told. I been good. Getting jargonized at the urban dictionary lately. Anyhow,  glad your feeling better.  keep it up I like reading your post.

 

I was bound to be misunderstood, and I laugh at those who misunderstand me. Kind mockery at the well intentioned, but unfettered cruelty towards those would be prison guards of my creative possibilities. This so as to learn as much from misunderstanding as from understanding. Taking pleasure in worthy opponents and making language fluid and flowing like a river yet pointed and precise as a dagger. Contradicts the socialistic purpose of language and makes for a wonderful linguistic dance, A verbal martial art with constant parries that hone the weapon that is the two edged sword of my mouth.

[– Deleted on Request –Spectator 936]

Willy:

 

Your comments about classical music reminded me of something from my undergrad days.  During my senior year, I sang with one of the choral groups at my alma mater.  I estimated that about a third of the members were studying engineering or the physical sciences.  Then again, music is supposed to have logic and structure, so that would fit right in with those disciplines.

 

As for team work, oh yes, there was lots of that.  We had rehearsals twice a week and our director worked us hard.  It was tough enough trying to stay reasonably on key as many members, such as me, weren’t musicians and I can’t read music at all.  But we had to listen not just to each other in our individual sections, we had to listen for entries and exits by, say, the sopranos or tenors.  We had to hit each note on time and stay there for the appropriate length and maintain the pace of the music.  Eventually, with constant practice, as well as frequent reprimands from our director, our performances were close to flawless.

 

I pretty much chalked the behaviour of that supervisor to the fact that he simply didn’t like me and didn’t from the very beginning.  I once came across an assessment of me written shortly after the interview.  His comments weren’t in the least bit flattering and he sounded as if I had no redeeming characteristics whatsoever.  No wonder I had problems at that outfit.

 

[Mango IngawayParticipant 2264]

Lmao at the guy telling you you’re not a “team player” because you listen to classical music. What a goddamn dumbass, maybe he’d have prefered some turd who likes mindless party music, and who likes being surrounded by dancing sweaty skanks in some s~~~ty night club.
And when it comes to music, yeah, there’s definitely some logic involved, I’d say music has to be a well-balanced mix between logic and creativity, so that it’s doesn’t sound either like it’s boring, or like the musician is pulling strings at random.

It is a common failing of childhood to think that if one makes a hero out of a demon the demon will be satisfied.

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