Sorry for my brief absence, I was busy with a few things, which, when compared to my current unemployed status, means that I finally had something to do. However, to make up for lost time, I have quite a doozy of a story for you -- in fact, some may call it even a horror story. So sit back in your chair, grab a nice beverage, maybe a candy bar and certainly be ready to laugh or cry at my expense (I basically did both).
Earlier this week, I had an interview for a marketing company that I had minimal knowledge about. The preliminary interview was on Monday and lasted about 15-20 minutes. Basically, I told my interviewer about me and my skills and he gave me a brief rundown about what they did as a company. He explained that they were an outsourced marketing company called upon by big, prestigious corporations and organizations to do face-to-face marketing. I took this to mean that the marketing I would be engaging in would be directly with or to that corporation, maybe in a presentation setting, and thought it sounded intriguing. Later that day, after the preliminary interview was but a distant memory from that afternoon, I got a phone call saying they wanted me to come in for a second interview, which would be a day-long shadowing interview where I would see what they do and be simultaneously evaluated for the potential position. Of course, I thought this sounded like a good idea. Everyone wants that second interview -- that "second date" if you will. They liked me and I wanted to learn more, so I said yes.
I came in the next day curious to see what would be in store for me that day. I figured I'd be hanging out in the office with one of the bosses -- as they had seemed to imply I would be doing -- and learn a bit more about their business. From my 15-20 minute preliminary interview, I didn't have too much to go on. I thought I knew what to expect.
By now, from my lovely story-telling ability, I'm sure you know that this is the point in my narrative where things go wrong. I clearly did not know what to expect. The only thing I knew is that the administrative assistant had warned me to wear comfortable shoes the previous day on the phone. At the time, I took this as strange -- if I'm supposed to be in professional attire and hanging around a business all day, why would I be advised to wear flats? Would I be pulling an anti-Planet Fitness: picking things up and putting them down? Would I be required to compete with other job applicants in a gauntlet filled with physical and intellectual challenges, one challenge of which would entail a 5K?
I found out that essentially, face-to-face marketing was just a glorified way of calling yourself a solicitor. That company and my interviewers would probably argue to the death that they are not solicitors in any way -- but basically, when you go door-to-door to different businesses talking about a particular product, you're looking to sell something to them, and that makes you a solicitor.
Listen, you can put lipstick on a pig, but in the end, it's still a pig, right? Exactly. The woman I shadowed for the day seemed to think that they were engaging in some sort of revolutionary marketing technique. Sorry, honey, face-to-face marketing is the pig in lipstick in this situation. You're still a solicitor.
Upon realizing this is what I would be doing all day. I decided I would just be polite (I was on an interview after all), make it through the day, go home and write it off as just an unfortunate misunderstanding. IF ONLY it was that easy.
Yes, I was polite and enthusiastic when chatting with my interviewer. However, she told me that I wasn't supposed to do any of the talking when she was "marketing" other than to make small talk if I saw fit. Of course, I did my usual "hello," "nice to meet you" and "thank you" spiel, because I am polite person and I was taught to have manners, but most of the time, I just kept my mouth shut and watched in horror as my interviewer "marketed" her product (AKA was pushy and persistent) which was some sort of credit card thing (I'm going to leave it vague and ambiguous to protect the identity of said ridiculous "marketing" company).
As the end of the day approached, I did a little victory dance in my head. Thank God -- I was almost done and I could go home, sit on the couch with my dog watching bad reality television, and go to bed. However, as you might imagine, some of my interviewer's "marketing" techniques did not exactly go over well with some of the people she was "marketing" to. We had been going into small businesses all day around one particular town, and herannoying, rude, amateur interesting "marketing" techniques must have pushed someone's buttons. Needless to say, at our last location, we were confronted by the town's police officers.
YUP -- you heard me correctly. POLICE OFFICERS. Someone had called the cops on us. Apparently, myignorant, thoughtless lovely interviewer and her company did not even think nor consider to check the town's laws to see if she could "market" there. Soliciting was illegal, but no one had even cared to look into that because they apparently don't consider themselves to be soliciting.
While being questioned by the police, I did what any law abiding citizen would do. Basically told them everything my interviewer had done all day, how I wasn't even an employee of the company and how I wasn't actually doing any of the "marketing" and just tagging along. I was like "here's every single bit of information I have on mypig in lipstick interviewer and her company: phone number, address, blood type..." The police officer had said to me that the company seemed shady and my interviewer's "marketing" techniques regarding the "credit card thing" seemed even shadier, which had prompted the cops being called on us in the first place. I was a mix of emotions, but to start, I was mostly: livid, infuriated, and upset. The officers told us that we could actually be arrested because it was illegal to do what "we" were doing. I thought the officers were extremely nice and they offered to let me hang at the station while someone came to pick me up if I didn't feel comfortable going back with my pig in lipstick interviewer, but I figured since we were going back to the office anyway, it would just be quicker to go back with her. The officer tried to crack a joke, saying that he knew the economy was tough and it was difficult to find a job, and I, in the midst of my tears, told him, "Well, yeah, not taking this job. Interview from hell."
As you can imagine, the ride home was extremely awkward turtle. My interviewer tried to apologize, and even claimed that the cops would not even hear her out when she tried to explain what she was selling to them. I told her that was because they didn't want her to sell to them; they just wanted to get a clear picture of what was going on. Her comments only confirmed what I had decided that morning: she was an idiot. I tried to be as polite as possible on the ride home, but when she asked me if I could see myself in a position with her company, I told her no: this position was not what I expected nor wanted. She kept blabbing all the way home about how face-to-face "marketing" was the best type, but I just ignored her and was trying to think about how my parents would react to this lovely ordeal.
Finally, we were back at the office parking lot. I still was supposed to go back up to the office for a few final things, but I told her "NO WAY." No, actually, I told her that after what had just happened (AKA almost getting arrested), I didn't want to go back to the office and just wanted to go home. SEE YA.
I drove home amazed at what had just happened to me. I, Angela, -- little miss goody-goody with her 3.9 and penchant for being the third wheel when hanging out with her mom and dad and a college career as an RA -- could have been arrested today because of mypig in lipstick interviewer and the company. My parents were just as infuriated as I was. I had been duped! And I had my first official interview horror story. Needless to say, I was not happy about my job search and its prospects at that point. However, I survived to tell the tale and subsequently self-medicated with Girl Scout cookies, a Klondike bar and some leftover chocolate cheesecake.
Earlier this week, I had an interview for a marketing company that I had minimal knowledge about. The preliminary interview was on Monday and lasted about 15-20 minutes. Basically, I told my interviewer about me and my skills and he gave me a brief rundown about what they did as a company. He explained that they were an outsourced marketing company called upon by big, prestigious corporations and organizations to do face-to-face marketing. I took this to mean that the marketing I would be engaging in would be directly with or to that corporation, maybe in a presentation setting, and thought it sounded intriguing. Later that day, after the preliminary interview was but a distant memory from that afternoon, I got a phone call saying they wanted me to come in for a second interview, which would be a day-long shadowing interview where I would see what they do and be simultaneously evaluated for the potential position. Of course, I thought this sounded like a good idea. Everyone wants that second interview -- that "second date" if you will. They liked me and I wanted to learn more, so I said yes.
I came in the next day curious to see what would be in store for me that day. I figured I'd be hanging out in the office with one of the bosses -- as they had seemed to imply I would be doing -- and learn a bit more about their business. From my 15-20 minute preliminary interview, I didn't have too much to go on. I thought I knew what to expect.
By now, from my lovely story-telling ability, I'm sure you know that this is the point in my narrative where things go wrong. I clearly did not know what to expect. The only thing I knew is that the administrative assistant had warned me to wear comfortable shoes the previous day on the phone. At the time, I took this as strange -- if I'm supposed to be in professional attire and hanging around a business all day, why would I be advised to wear flats? Would I be pulling an anti-Planet Fitness: picking things up and putting them down? Would I be required to compete with other job applicants in a gauntlet filled with physical and intellectual challenges, one challenge of which would entail a 5K?
I found out that essentially, face-to-face marketing was just a glorified way of calling yourself a solicitor. That company and my interviewers would probably argue to the death that they are not solicitors in any way -- but basically, when you go door-to-door to different businesses talking about a particular product, you're looking to sell something to them, and that makes you a solicitor.
 |
| Maybe if more people were English majors they might actually know definitions to words and perhaps, check a thesaurus. Face-to-face marketing is just another synonym for solicitor. |
Listen, you can put lipstick on a pig, but in the end, it's still a pig, right? Exactly. The woman I shadowed for the day seemed to think that they were engaging in some sort of revolutionary marketing technique. Sorry, honey, face-to-face marketing is the pig in lipstick in this situation. You're still a solicitor.
Upon realizing this is what I would be doing all day. I decided I would just be polite (I was on an interview after all), make it through the day, go home and write it off as just an unfortunate misunderstanding. IF ONLY it was that easy.
Yes, I was polite and enthusiastic when chatting with my interviewer. However, she told me that I wasn't supposed to do any of the talking when she was "marketing" other than to make small talk if I saw fit. Of course, I did my usual "hello," "nice to meet you" and "thank you" spiel, because I am polite person and I was taught to have manners, but most of the time, I just kept my mouth shut and watched in horror as my interviewer "marketed" her product (AKA was pushy and persistent) which was some sort of credit card thing (I'm going to leave it vague and ambiguous to protect the identity of said ridiculous "marketing" company).
As the end of the day approached, I did a little victory dance in my head. Thank God -- I was almost done and I could go home, sit on the couch with my dog watching bad reality television, and go to bed. However, as you might imagine, some of my interviewer's "marketing" techniques did not exactly go over well with some of the people she was "marketing" to. We had been going into small businesses all day around one particular town, and her
YUP -- you heard me correctly. POLICE OFFICERS. Someone had called the cops on us. Apparently, my
While being questioned by the police, I did what any law abiding citizen would do. Basically told them everything my interviewer had done all day, how I wasn't even an employee of the company and how I wasn't actually doing any of the "marketing" and just tagging along. I was like "here's every single bit of information I have on my
As you can imagine, the ride home was extremely awkward turtle. My interviewer tried to apologize, and even claimed that the cops would not even hear her out when she tried to explain what she was selling to them. I told her that was because they didn't want her to sell to them; they just wanted to get a clear picture of what was going on. Her comments only confirmed what I had decided that morning: she was an idiot. I tried to be as polite as possible on the ride home, but when she asked me if I could see myself in a position with her company, I told her no: this position was not what I expected nor wanted. She kept blabbing all the way home about how face-to-face "marketing" was the best type, but I just ignored her and was trying to think about how my parents would react to this lovely ordeal.
Finally, we were back at the office parking lot. I still was supposed to go back up to the office for a few final things, but I told her "NO WAY." No, actually, I told her that after what had just happened (AKA almost getting arrested), I didn't want to go back to the office and just wanted to go home. SEE YA.
I drove home amazed at what had just happened to me. I, Angela, -- little miss goody-goody with her 3.9 and penchant for being the third wheel when hanging out with her mom and dad and a college career as an RA -- could have been arrested today because of my
I cannot believe this happened to you! I did laugh, and want to cry for you - I even made my sister read it because it was just too much. I'm glad you've self-medicated. I know it sounds silly, but I think the right job is around the corner. It may not be right forever, but I think it'll be what you're looking for for now - you're too deserving to not find that!
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