If you're ever driving from Denver to Boulder on Hwy. 36 (Boulder-Denver Turnpike), you should exit at Broomfield (Wadsworth), take a left, cross the turnpike and get back on aimed toward Denver. When you're about halfway down the ramp, pull over, put on your flashers and take a moment to remember Shep.
Shep was a stray puppy who decided to live alongside the turnpike from 1950-64, when there were toll booths there. Nobody knew where this little shepherd-mix pup came from, but he liked the toll booths and the attendants. He hung out with them for 14 years, and often slept in the tollbooths on cold nights. People would look for him when they paid their tolls, and kids would want to play with him. When he became deaf, nearly blind, and had trouble moving, the attendants had to put him to sleep.
They and had a funeral and burial there (under a marker donated by a local funeral home). RIP-1964. People would regularly stop and put flowers, ornaments, flags and other things there until 2009, with they moved his remains and the marker to the Broomfield Historical Museum, because of construction on the interchange. Shep was a Road Dog. Born that way, and lived that way. I think of him, and his life, every time I drive that highway - and even when I don't.
Luckily (and hopefully), at this pont in the Dog's life, job interviews aren't part of the personal scenario. But, given my "HR" job, as I listen to how our recruiters conduct them in this era of "behavioral interviewing" and assessing "emotional intelligence" while "hiring for fit" and the other rhetorical psycho-babble coming from professional gospels of "how-to HR"; I am reminded of my own interviews. I'm guessing everyone accumulates them in some fashion over the years. Mine are all fond (?) memories and some still bring back a smile -- or an outright laugh, at their "ludicrosity"...
Three of the more interesting job interviews I have known...
- Escorted into the CEO's office; a large, well-appointed room, a tad on the dark side, with ornate furnishings. His greeting was warm and friendly as he moved around his desk, and pointed to a chair by the wall for me to sit. Two uncomfortable Louis XIV wall chairs, both facing into the office, with a table in between. We sat side-by-side facing out into the office (seriously... parallel to each other). I tried to turn toward him, but the chair wouldn't move. He interviewed me with minimal, to zero, eye contact and mainly looking down or out at the wall. I was reminded of the old joke about how you can tell an extroverted pathologist.... they look at your shoes instead of their own. This guy was not extroverted. I finally accepted it, pretended there was a camera hidden in the opposite wall and had a great conversation with myself. I left wondering how he got the job, and not about whether I would get one.
- Brought into the CEO's office and sat down in a chair directly in front of his desk. As I sat down, I realized that I was sitting about shoulder level with the top of his desk. When he sat down behind his desk, his eye level was at least two feet above mine. I had to believe that his chair was raised and the other chairs were lowered. I almost looked around the desk to see if he was on a platform or what? This guy had issues, and mine were mainly trying not to giggle or stand up. I did seriously think about slouching lower just to see what he would do.
- Dining experiences aren't exempt from the interview process either. It is almost a given that if you're interviewing for a senior level position, there will be some kind of meal involved. Most of them are nervous food picking and "informal" conversations geared to assess social skills and gastronomic tendencies.
And, folks, the first real question is always: Do I have alcohol? Good interviewers will make the first move and relieve the tension of choice. You can bet it's a test, if they let you choose first. And, whichever way you choose, will always give them another thought.... so don't sweat it.
My favorite "dining experience" was at an Olive Garden, in an anonymous Wisconsin city. Per instructions from the recruiting firm who called me, I had arrived the previous evening and checked into the Holiday Inn Express. The morning came and I was supposed to be picked up at 8, but at 7:30 the phone rang and I was informed there was a change of plans; I should stay at the hotel and they would call me when they were coming to get me. Around 11, the phone rang again and I was told that I should continue waiting. The only phone number I had was for the recruiter, in Chicago, and I used it a couple of times that day.
Around 3, the next call came and I was told to meet the CEO at a nearby Olive Garden around 5, and join him for dinner. At 5:30, he breezed into the restaurant, introduced himself, and we immediately sat down for dinner. During the meal, he asked me no questions and I was mainly engaged in listening to him expound on his healthcare philosophies and berating of the nearby larger city's health care providers. I felt like I was eating with that little cartoon mouse standing on the railroad tracks in front of the roaring locomotive, with his middle finger raised. He made minimal eye contact, and was so self-absorbed that my comments were usually missed or talked over. The highlight was when we walked out the front door and he headed for his car without a word. I left wishing I'd ordered scotch.
So folks, when you interview for a job, or for anything, do your research, learn everything you can about the people, places, and things you may encounter - and then relax, years from now you will only remember the good stuff.
