Phone Interviews & A Technology Fail

So, who likes phone interviews?  That’s right – raise your hands if you do?  What?  No one?  That might be because no one else reads this blog or because there is a universal hatred of phone interviews.  Interviewing is a nerve wracking process in any case, regardless of if the person is shaking your slightly clammy palm (there being no way to wipe it on your rear or your thigh discreetly prior to the handshake) or if you’re sitting all alone at your dining room table.

I had set up my little “office” corner of my dining room to be ready for my 9:30am phone interview, a second screening round (the recruiter had pre-screened me prior to my being passed on to the marketing department).  The dogs are locked up stairs in my bedroom, in their crates with a blanket covering them and with the TV at a moderate volume so they don’t hear ghosts and yap and bark (I am terrified people can hear them, the yapping is so embarassing).  My laptop was closed (so as to avoid the enticement of Facebook) and set off to the side.  My mirror was set up on an easel directly in front of me so I could monitor my facial expressions to make sure I was sounding like a person and not a robot reciting all my well-practiced summaries to common interview questions.  The mirror is key because it reminds me to look and sound confident, even when a question is a little new or different from ones I have previously experienced.

Locked and Loaded for a phone interview.

I had my resume off to my left, the job description/posting just to the right of that, a clean piece of paper with a pen for notes directly in front of me, the questions I wanted to ask to my right and to my far right a list of community endeavors the company supports (I happen to quite like some of the endeavors and wanted to be on top of things in case I could steer the conversation that way for a minute or two).  I had a glass of water, kleenex and a vase full of pretty hydrangeas and viburnum.  I was dressed professionally, had my make-up and jewelry on and my hair was appropriate.  While the interviewer will never see any of these things over the phone, it is important in how it makes me feel.  I want to feel like a kick-ass potential employee who is ready to tear into a new job in a new industry and blow their socks off.  This is the game plan, the boxing gloves are on and I’m ready to be a knock out.

So at 9:20, I sit down to my little arranged area and have my phone charger at the ready.  Of course, I’m playing with my phone on FB messenger with a few friends as I watch the clock, ready to go if the call comes early.  The clock keeps ticking.  9:30 rolls around.  9:34.  9:35.  I am getting antsy – clearly they must have enjoyed speaking with the previous candidate because I got a very clear start and stop time for this interview.  This ratchets up the nerves factor a bit.  9:36.  9:38 starts the WTF thoughts.  9:39 and my voicemail dings, informing me I have a new message.

Now the the WTF REALLY starts.  I have no home phone, so my cell phone is pretty much the only method of outside communication unless I were to be Skyping or something along those lines.  It works just fine in my house, I’ve never had a dropped call or any issues previously.  But the damn fucker never. even. rang.  I am BEYOND mortified as my shaking hand attempts to write the interviewer’s number down legibly.  Still shaking and now trying to figure out how to politely explain my phone fucked me to this nice lady that I’m supposed to be giving a great impression to as to why I apparently can’t be bothered to answer her pre-arranged phone call.

The phone rings twice and is picked up.  I stutter through my apology, which is a meant with a crisp, “I have a hard stop at 10am, so let’s get started so you have enough time.”  Does that or does that not make you feel like you’re about 3 inches tall and don’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of getting through this?  My stomach still flip flops over itself at that tone.  It was not good.  Not good at all.  And I can’t blame her – I would have been the same way if the situation had been reversed.

All of that being said, apparently I fell in shit and came up smelling like roses.  I’m still not quite sure how it happened.  I managed to squeak myself 12 minutes past the hard stop.  I must have sounded more intelligent than I thought, because I’m convinced at one point I was reduced to toddler babble – “I want job!  I want job!  Waaaaaahhhhh!  You give me!!!!” because she then informed me of the next steps in the process and told me “Don’t freak out if you don’t hear from me within a week or even two weeks.  With the holiday it is going to be hard to coordinate (proceeds to spout off what seems like 20 names and titles that will be part of the process) everyone’s schedules to get a date to conduct the interviews.”

So . . . apparently I made it to the next round.  I’m pretty sure she would have dashed my hopes and dreams quite gleefully (she did defrost quite a bit within the first 10 minutes though – apparently I can be charming while staring at myself in the mirror and chatting) if I wasn’t going to be asked in for a face-to-face interview with what seems to be a firing squad of people.  Fingers crossed . . . I actually really, really like the sound of this job.