Two weeks after the non-interview I received another call from the Coked-up Confused Headhunter. His client loved my CV, he said. Of course, he felt obliged to point out that he couldn't figure out WHY they loved it. They must not have read it properly, he said.
He said they wanted to interview me, but he didn't know how it would be possible given that I was still in un-TAH-row (which is Idiot for Ontario).
I suggested three apparently not-so-obvious methods: a phone interview, a meeting with management at the client's local office, or a video conference via the client's local office.
The ruh-TARD informed me that his client had no offices in un-TAH-row. Duh. Now why didn't it surprise me that I knew more about his client than he did?
He called back a week later to book the phone interview. He gave me the date, time, and the name and title of the person I'd be speaking with.
Not only was there a glaring misspelling in the person's job title, when I googled his name, I came up with nothing. Fortunately I am smart. I typed in the correct spelling of the guy's name and found what I was looking for. I should have taken that as a sign.
The next day (i.e. the day before the scheduled interview) my phone rang just as I was getting doggy breakfast ready. Oh yes, that's right, dude gave me the wrong day.
I apologised and arranged for him to call back a few minutes later. He told me the headhunter had already screwed up three other interviews. Wow.
I didn't want to do the interview from home in case the dogs started barking or my housemates started — erm — singing. I didn't have enough time to get to the office, so I went to a nearby park. Foolishly I thought it would be a nice, quiet setting. Right...
The three trains that went by during the 30-minute interview weren't even the worst part. A woman was walking by with her dog. The dog, of course, wanted to meet me and approached me. A passing cyclist, who must not have been paying close attention, collided with the dog less than a metre away from me. She fell. And then she screamed...
Both dog and cyclist appeared unharmed, but I looked like a loser running away from the scene. I'm sure I sounded like one too.And that, boys and girls, is the story of the job I didn't get.