I suppose the details of the job I interviewed for on Thursday evening are rather superfluous. It really doesn’t matter what the store sold. It doesn’t really matter that I was applying for a retail management position. The reasons the interview was terrible are rather ubiquitous. It would have been a terrible interview no matter what kind of store I was applying at, simply because of the types of people present.
There were three guys working in the store when I got there. All young, hip-looking, and built like athletes. I’m not really any of those three things. Two of the young gentlemen were talking about a “hot bitch” they know. Gentleman A was telling Gentleman B about the time he “tapped that ass” in the alleyway behind the mall. Unsurprisingly, I introduced myself to Gentleman C.
“Hey, this guy is here for an interview,” is what Gentleman C yelled across the store to his co-horts.
“You do it, bro,” replied Gentleman A.
“So, uh, dude, like, what kind of, like, experience do you have with REDACTED?”
As he was asking me why exactly I should be working at this place, he and his coworkers were looking me up and down. I’m not exactly the sort of guy who’d be mistaken for someone who works here. I’m dressed to nicely. I’m not hip or young or sexy.
It’s ironic that I probably know more about what they’re selling than the three of them combined.
“Dude, so, um, like, why do you want to work here?”
My head is screaming. “I don’t want to work here, especially if you three are an example of what I’m going to be dealing with! No wonder you guys need a manager, bro!”
I hear snippets of conversation behind me as I‘m conversing with “Dude Bro Man.” The two gentlemen are still talking, but in more hushed tones. I only hear the occasional word here and there. I pick three out of the conversation and flush a bit with anger: “Fat. Fag. Nerd.”
The interview wraps up after something like four questions. The whole thing takes maybe 15 minutes. I exit the store quickly and start sending text messages.
I can still see why they need a manager so badly.
OH MY GOSH that is horrid. I would have had to leave at the first word of Bro or dude. I say dude. sometimes. but sarcasticly (if I'm spelling wrong it's 3 am forgive me) but to say that at a interview. I'm still fingers crossed on the other job. You will pull your hair out at this one..of course that's when you are offered a job at the one you wouldn't want. :-)
ReplyDeleteM-people like this are precisely the reason you see those news stories with the neighbors saying "he seemed like such a nice quiet boy" when they learned that someone brought an uzi to work.
ReplyDeletegod id say call and complain to the owner of the store but someone hired these morons in the first place so it wouldn't help. although if you called in as a customer and explained the kind of behavior you were observing in the store and said you didn't buy anything because of that... well that'd be another story.
ReplyDelete