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Job Interviews
Cheating with a conscience
There's nothing wrong with a little white lie, as long as people are prepared to believe it - right?
Whether or not you agree with this tenet, it seems to be de rigueur within the recruitment business, which comprises a series of near misses and necessary compromises. If we are honest, we've probably all been guilty of telling people what they want to hear from time to time, and often for our own benefit.
Having attended two dreadful job interviews last week and feeling thwarted by the ever flimsy prospect of intellectual and economic progress, I'm tempted to retreat back to my simple pint-pouring existence.
The initial interview was arranged through an agency (grumble) by a surprisingly forthcoming (tenacious) recruitment consultant who made a sales job in a shop masquerading as an art ‘gallery' seem illuminating. In fact, besides the prospect of writing for a living, I would go so far as to say it sounded like my dream job.
Unfortunately the prospect of promoting artists work had clouded the reality of working in a target-driven shop-fronted work space, and I looked forward to the interview date with appropriate anticipation and (unwarranted) enthusiasm.
Nerve-racking moments before the interview the consultant reassured me that I had nothing to worry about as the ‘gallery' Manager (and interviewer) ‘wanted' me just on the strength of my CV. I had been set up for disappointment.
Worse still, I suspected that this was a bad omen as I know expectation leaves little to the imagination. Having interviewed me, would I be as uniform as the paper I was written on, or would my ‘sales' experience belie the unconventional blonde who spoke candidly of her own creative ambitions?
Whether or not you agree with this tenet, it seems to be de rigueur within the recruitment business, which comprises a series of near misses and necessary compromises. If we are honest, we've probably all been guilty of telling people what they want to hear from time to time, and often for our own benefit.
Having attended two dreadful job interviews last week and feeling thwarted by the ever flimsy prospect of intellectual and economic progress, I'm tempted to retreat back to my simple pint-pouring existence.
The initial interview was arranged through an agency (grumble) by a surprisingly forthcoming (tenacious) recruitment consultant who made a sales job in a shop masquerading as an art ‘gallery' seem illuminating. In fact, besides the prospect of writing for a living, I would go so far as to say it sounded like my dream job.
Unfortunately the prospect of promoting artists work had clouded the reality of working in a target-driven shop-fronted work space, and I looked forward to the interview date with appropriate anticipation and (unwarranted) enthusiasm.
Nerve-racking moments before the interview the consultant reassured me that I had nothing to worry about as the ‘gallery' Manager (and interviewer) ‘wanted' me just on the strength of my CV. I had been set up for disappointment.
Worse still, I suspected that this was a bad omen as I know expectation leaves little to the imagination. Having interviewed me, would I be as uniform as the paper I was written on, or would my ‘sales' experience belie the unconventional blonde who spoke candidly of her own creative ambitions?
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