Guess What Happened Today?: Tales From the Hot Seat: Recruiting, Part 1

I’m a manager and I love it. One of the things I like best is recruiting. As a hiring manager, I’ve made a lot of winning decisions, and a bunch of losing ones that really make me question whether I actually have a brain. I’ve been wowed when I wasn’t expecting to be, and I’ve been let down when I was prepared for greatness. I have met some unique characters during the interview process. To put the idea of me as the interviewer into perspective, it’s only fair to talk about my own experiences as the interviewee, which to be frank, have not always been stellar.

I once interviewed for a job in a large ‘chateau’ style hotel in Ottawa. I had been through a couple of interviews, and got to the last stage. This was in about 1993, but I still recall that the HR manager had the straightest look on her face when she asked, ”compared to the average person, how much soap do you use?” How in the hell do you answer that question? “Ummm…” is hardly ever the right answer in an interview.

Well, I knew for sure that using less soap than the average person was clearly not the right answer, so I scratched that one off the list. In an interview you want to stand out, so admitting to being average isn’t always the best plan, but claiming to use more soap than the average guy might make you sound like a freak. I very clearly remember the question, but for some reason I don’t remember my answer. But I got the job, so I must have gone all Goldilocks and went with the ‘just right’ amount.

Howie Mandel, self-proclaimed user of more soap than the average guy

I know that mounting a job search is hard work, and maintaining the quality of your resume and cover letters is a challenge. Often we resort to cut and paste and I know that on a few occasions, I’ve applied for perfect jobs and forgot to change the name of the company in one of the spots on the cover letter. Talk about burning opportunities. Maybe it was the short time I spent in journalism school, but I’m fanatical about spelling and proof reading (now that I’ve said that, I’m almost positive that I will post this blog with at least one spelling error).

In the nineties, I applied for a job with a law firm, and I should have known that I was being set-up by the interviewer when she kept asking questions about my attention to detail. She asked, and re-asked, and re-phrased the same question over and over again, and each time I gave a stronger answer about how important it is to me that my documents are flawless and blah blah blah. Two seconds later, the hammer fell as she slid a marked up copy of my resume and cover letter across the table to me with not only my spelling and grammar errors highlighted, but also a couple of places in my resume where my dates didn’t exactly line up. “If you’re so detail-oriented, Mr. Slater, can you please explain some of the highlighted sections of your resume?” Very embarrassing, but lesson learned. Somehow, I got the job.

Busted with lots of mistakes on the resume...I was sweating that one

It was a job as a file clerk, at which I sucked. Who knew the alphabet could be so tricky. Instead of firing me, about six months in, they promoted me, out of the file room, and into my new high-powered career as an International Patent Prosecution Assistant. Yep, just as exciting as it sounds. International Patents. It takes a special kind of person to love that work. I’m not that special, and as it turns out, I’m not that wild about picky details. My take-away from the law firm was that if you walk purposefully, with a file in your hand, nobody questions what you’re doing or where you’re going.

I've known my alphabet all my life...how could it be so hard now?

In 1997 I responded to an advertisement for an account executive role with a payroll company. I had no experience with payroll beyond cashing my own paycheque, so I was pretty surprised to be called to an interview. I dressed up in my best suit and headed for the office. I walked in, and everyone was in jeans, so I was immediately self-conscious about my wardrobe selection. I’m a blender, not a sticker-outter, so I was kicking myself for not doing more homework.

Overdressed, and sticking out

I felt the interview was going well when the interviewer excused herself to go get her boss. She felt like he needed to meet me, which I took as a very good sign. When he walked in, I immediately felt inadequate…he was young, not too much older than me, tall, really good looking, wicked hair and perfect teeth. Clearly a sports guy, and he knew his way around the men’s store. The right jeans with a great shirt, and the perfect jacket. Me, Mr. Schlubby, in my rumpled Moore’s suit and tie. I felt just a little out of place. We started talking about my skills and the job requirements and I felt like I was getting into a groove, when out of nowhere he says to me, “Would you just cut the crap…” I was completely shocked as I thought I was doing a great job of packaging up the crap, but he saw right through me.

I went away feeling a bit despondent, and that I was certainly out of the running. About a month later they called, said they had made a hiring decision that didn’t work out and that they wanted me back for another interview. That very afternoon, if I was able. I was feeling like total crap. I had a cold that was on the verge of the flu, but I didn’t want to burn the opportunity. I put on my best jeans, found a jacket and shirt that made me look like I knew how to pull off business casual, ditched the tie and headed to the interview.

I was so sick that I looked like I got dragged to the office behind a bus. I was a wreck with my puffy eyes and my dripping nose. I walked into the office and very nearly had a coronary. They were all wearing suits. Not just jackets and dress pants…full suits. And ties. I’m there, looking like I'm dressed for a second date. It turns out my first interview was on a Friday. As in Casual Freaking Friday. My second interview was on Wednesday, as in Wear Your Best Damn Suit to Work Wednesday. I sniffled and snorted my way through the interview and again, left despondent. More wasted time, and another burned opportunity.

Four weeks later, after blowing two interviews, I got the call. I got the job and I remember that on the phone, the hiring manager took great pains to very clearly review the dress code for me. I appreciated that. I wound up working there for twelve years.

Another time, I was contacted by a headhunter with an opportunity for a senior job at a small company that was being lead by the founding entrepreneur. I have had some less-than-positive experiences with sole-proprietor, family run companies in the past, so I have always floated towards larger corporations. The recruiter explained that the president was in no great rush, and wanted to take her time making the right decision, even if it took a couple of months. I was interested in the role, so we set up a meeting.

My first interview was in April. My second interview was also in April. My seventh interview was in June. My ninth interview was in July. My psychological assessments were in August. My first dinner with the president followed, also in August. Dinner with her and her husband was in early September. My first interview at her office was late in September. My fourteenth and final interview was in October, when I was finally presented with an offer.

This marathon courting process took over 180 days. To put that into context, the recent marriage of Kim Kardashian and Kris Humphries lasted 72 days. It took me over twice as long to land this job as Kim and Kris could stick it out together. Somehow through that marathon process I managed to miss or overlook every single red flag and took the job anyway.