Interview skills

Lately, I’ve been reading so many “useful” tips on how to land a good job and they all make me sick. Look your best, firm handshake, warm and genuine smile, openness, etc… Ok so lets say this mythical creature does exist, what the hell is the other 99.9% of the population supposed to do? Why don’t we just bypass all the figurative brown-nosing and get to the real deal. We may as well drop on our knees the second we walk in, pull down the interviewer’s pants and kiss his/her bare bottom. At the end of each “helpful” suggestion list there is always a phrase: “Remember, you are also asking questions and determining whether the job is right for you, so it’s really a two-way street”. Really? Is that why I’m sitting here sweating, coughing, forgetting the English language and demonstrating symptoms of down syndrome, while the person sitting across the table with various awards and pictures depicting their world travels is calmly assessing my neuroticism with their arms neatly folded, and looking at my resume is if it’s the most despicable, not to mention unreadable document (which it must be since they keep asking me about my experiences and education which has been clearly outlined with bullet points)and taking phone calls from their two-year old? The argument that this is a two-way street is further weakened by the fact that while the interviewer is digging for gold in my X-files I’m supposed to keep mum about salary, insurance, vacation, and such hush-hush, not to be discussed topics. I’ve got news for you ABC Corp.: those are the only things that interest me! That’s all I need to know to determine whether this company is right for me. I don’t care about my duties, who I’ll be working with and why, my boss’s family vacations, etc. But mostly I just need this job. Not want but need. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be here hyperventilating with anticipation of being your humble servant. There, hire me now.
This so-called meeting of the potential employer and employee may as well be conducted in a good ol’ torture chamber. It would be just as prolonged and painful. “Are you references real? Either confess that your experience is fake or be boiled alive. Your choice. If we do find that your experience was in fact real after you’ve been hanged, don’t worry you will be pronounced a national hero and honored accordingly, alas posthumously”. Needless to say, no one will come out of there with a job. Pretty much like today.
I’d make a few changes to this unnecessarily torturous process. At least if the atmosphere was different, say a candlelit dinner for two, at a five-star restaurant I’d be more disposed to “tell them about myself”. I feel much more at ease telling my future employer about my abilities after a glass or two of the most expensive wine (which they’re buying by the way, I mean which one of us has a job?). The key is to throw fairy dust in their face all evening until they’re almost positive that there has never been, or ever will be a better candidate for this particular position. Whether or not you can actually do what you say is another story. You learn on the job. After all, we’re all inquisitive creatures by nature and there’s no reason we can’t ask how to make a copy every ten to twenty minutes. Good luck and let Obama (the pro) be with you!

Thou shalt not reproduce after your spouse is gone

So the good news is that I don’t live in Iran. With my luck I’d be stoned to death for just standing there watching someone else getting stoned to death and not contributing. However, the adulterous widow who is actually about to be stoned to death isn’t so lucky. That poor woman! It’s hard enough trying to get some while only being able to flirt with your eyes but now she’s getting punished for succeeding? If the same laws applied in the U.S. we’d all be sitting in our respective holes buried to our necks with no one left to cast the first stone. Then the situation gets more grim. The alcoholic, half-lesbian, jailbird to be, Lindsey Lohan, is petitioning for the widow’s release. That’s right Iran. You listen to the woman who broke every rule in the Koran five times over and should’ve been stoned even in this country (which she was most of the time). What does it take to be punished here? Join the wrong sports team? Lohan was finally sentenced to prison and is about to compete with Paris Hilton for shortest amount of time spent behind bars. It’s like they’re walked into the cell and the doors shut behind them only to reopen a second later with the words: “So, you rich, nastily-beautiful semi-celebrity, had enough soul-searching for one lifetime? Did some serious self-reflection in there? Well you’re out. Go back to the filthy rich house you came from. And take your dog with you”. Lindsey will ask for more time though after seeing all the potential Samantha Ronsons around her. “Now wait a minute, lets not be hasty officer. I have a few hours of contemplation left in me". Ok back to this poor Iranian woman. Word on the street (so she probably hasn’t heard) is that she’s already been whipped and lashed in prison. At least her children are rooting for her. I was sure they’d side with the justice system and robotically scream for their mother to be martyred for the sake of their father (whoever he was....we are talking about a severely loose woman here).

Newsworthy

Seventy years ago Germany was threatening to take over the world. Everyone knows how that ended. Well the second coming is upon us. Paul the Octopus is gaining power, brainwashing the masses, and making (Germany 1:the rest of world 0)-like predictions. Can someone at least get this thing a mustache? Granted, the Hail Paul salute would be difficult to execute for those with but two arms but we’ll manage. Needless to say, not everyone is happy with this rising star. Death threats are pouring in to turn the critter into calamari and end its winning streak. According to the headlines this psychic invertebrate is unfazed by both fame and death threats. It seems that the only thing he’s fazed by is soccer. I get the feeling that Paul also told Lebron James to sign with Miami Heat by nodding his head in the direction of the south. Lets fry that son of a gun!

Naturally once the Germans surface, so do the Russians. While Lebron James is burning in Heat, the Russian spies are bringing back a burst of much-needed cold air to this country. The crap they pulled-you gotta love ‘em. I guess it’s the westernized commies vs. the psychic Germans again. Meanwhile Mel Gibson is beating the hell out of his Russian, Oksana Grigorieva to see if she was also in the spying profession. He claimed that he was too drunk to remember the last twenty years of his life and for all he knows his real name is Maksim Gibsonovich and he’s about to be swapped for some vodka.

And those are the big news: Lebron James, Paul the Oracle, and Mel Gibson.

Oh I almost forgot about Mani the parakeet from Singapore and his take on world sports. Are Germany and Singapore the only countries able to breed psychic animals? Seriously U.S. go and fish out a mutant from the gulf and see what it can do.