I Just Want to Be the Boss

A while ago I interviewed with an employment agency for a spot in a new entity being formed in Muncie due to the award of a government HUD contract to a local real estate and property preservation company. I passed the initial screening interview done with the employment agency and had my first interview with the actual company yesterday. There were 3 job placement companies hired to cull the city of Muncie for qualified applicants, each choosing 45. So I made the first cut out of the initial 135 hopefuls and made it to the 2nd round.

I'm not sure I even want to make the 3rd round.

The first interviewer was the owner of the real estate agency, a woman who looked to be in her 60's, graceful, confident, and unerringly polite. The kind of woman I want to be when I grow up. We had, I think, immediate rapport as I answered her questions. I could see the tell-tale signs of camaraderie as I described my current work environment which consists of 48 jackass men and 2 full time women (there are 2 other part time women). I would like a little diversity, please. I also want a clean work environment that doesn't ruin my nice clothes so I can actually look professional again, which I have always enjoyed over wearing jeans every day. I know, most people would think me crazy, and I am, but I grew up wearing skirts and I prefer them. One of the questions she asked was "What sort of thing is most likely to really get under your skin and make you angry?” I answered immediately: "Disrespect". Her eyes flared with instant approval. Score!

The second interviewer was not so easy. In fact, I thought about it all evening because he asked some very thought provoking questions, and was also a shining example of exactly what type of person I do not ever want to work for. Let me describe him in some detail, because this is a man I don't ever want to forget. I'm not sure why, but I think because he taught me a valuable lesson in the short span of an hour.

He looked like Aragorn with a comb-over after 10 solid years of a steady diet of bourbon and cigars. It's not that he was bald and was trying to cover it. He just for some odd reason chose to part his hair way, way too far over on one side, about two inches above his ear; a dead giveaway of a man with little aesthetic eye. I knew innate creativity wasn't going to help me here. More than his appearance, his manner was exceptionally unattractive. He was direct, but what’s not to like about that? He was arrogant, but so am I and I can dig it. Maybe he wasn't a chauvinist, but that was my impression.

He started off the interview with a modicum of small talk, a little pleasant laughter, comfortable enough. Then he took a minute to look over the test I had taken at the employment agency that was probably the "meanest" test I've ever taken. Every question was a trick, and they didn't warn me. Even so, I scored better than most. Rather than commenting on what I got right, he immediately launched into what I missed, explaining condescendingly what each question I answered incorrectly was supposed to measure. Each one was a lesson in semantics - had I known this going in, I would have applied everything I learned from my logic classes to pick each question apart. Of course, one of the questions I missed was "How many feet are in a mile?” and I still don't care, nor can I think of an instance where I ever would, unless it would be that stupid test. He tried to make me feel intellectually inferior, in a poking, put-you-off-guard way, so you can imagine just how hard he put my back up. I was determined not to let this bastard get the best of me.

The interview degraded into an hour-long test of wills and poker faces. He told me he couldn't decide whether I was emotional or logical. The personality test I took at my first interview put me evenly between the two, and he was trying to decide which way I leaned. He put the question to me directly, and I declined to commit, saying that I believed either extreme was to be avoided, that I sought always for balance. He was instantly intrigued, and also instantly determined to tip the scales one way or the other. He proceeded to try to crack my composure and make me slip up. It was on.

He told me right up front he was logical and almost totally unemotional, which I didn't buy for a moment but I smiled and nodded anyway. Not changing his tone of voice a mite, he said, "This is what I sound like when I'm angry. This is how I sound when I'm amused, and this is how I sound when I discuss politics. I'm like this no matter what". I had to keep my gaze from flicking down to his left ring finger to see if he was married. I did a little bit later when it wouldn't look suspicious, and he wore a college class ring. I wasn't surprised.
Directly after this, he leaned back in his chair, tipped it back and put his feet on the desk nonchalantly. He casually asked "This doesn't offend you, does it?" Another test. I answered "Of course not. It's your office." Implying that anywhere else, and under any other circumstances, yes, it would offend me. In fact, it did offend me because it was rude, but his entire demeanor was rude so it was not surprising and not worth tipping the scales for.

I think he tried so hard to get under my skin because he wanted so very bad to put me in a box, to make me a simple equation that he could weigh against all the other applicants he interviewed that day, to make sense of me and put me in perspective so he could determine easily whether or not I would work for his huge, new enterprise. The interview would have gone much, much more smoothly if I had let him slide me into the Emotional, Irrational Woman pigeonhole he had prepared before I even walked in the door. I think he would have liked me a lot more if I had bent to his will. He said he couldn't figure me out, and that was really unusual for him because he could almost always peg people within 5 minutes of meeting them. He alluded to this no less than 3 times. I replied differently each time but always with the same theme of "What you see is what you get".

One of the most valuable things I learned from this experience is that I will probably never have an interview more difficult or more unpleasant than that one. If I can perform well, keep my cool and not get rattled after an hour of a man with 2 masters degrees (computer science and history) and a long, long history of success on a major scale trying to find my weakness and exploit it so he could fit me into his scheme of the world...I can take on anyone after this. Bring it, bitch.

In retrospect, my tactics probably will cost me the position, in part because I specified I won't accept anything less than $x/hr. He explained to me that while he wasn't trying to talk me down, he had a limited number of positions open that would qualify for that salary, and that he wouldn't call me for anything less than that. I nodded and smiled coolly with a look on my face meant to say, "I know what I'm worth, and if you hire me, you'll find you got a bargain." I went for calm confidence, no fidgeting, and polite reserve, but worked in a generous touch of friendly warmth that may or may not have been manufactured to put him at ease.

I probably came off as dodgy and cordially adversarial. I found myself wanting so badly to argue with him, and had we been having this discussion over a pint of Guinness, oh the debate we could have had. I know I intrigued him, and the satisfaction I would get from getting him on my turf and f*cking with his mind would be triumphant.

I can't say if I'll get a 3rd interview or not. Maybe he's looking for cardboard cutouts that he understands. Maybe he doesn't want the risk of a free radical who looks soft and prizes kindness while speaking with more intelligence, logic and reason than he is used to in a woman. And all the while I struggled to put him in a box of my own making, one of the arrogant prick who is ungodly good at running a business. Immensely capable of making an enterprise work and making money hand over fist, but one who leads by intimidation rather than inspiration. In short, an excellent manager of business, but a terrible manager of people.

People like that don't understand, or simply don't care about, the value of making people like you. That a little kindness sprinkled on the top goes a long way. You get farther with a good rapport, so why throw away such a valuable tool that lets you manipulate people into doing your will without letting them know you are doing it? It's simply a different approach, I guess, but my way takes less energy and is therefore better.

All in all, I'm considering the idea of shining where I am. Making the most out of a job I already have and finding a way to mold it into something I can live with. That in itself should be enough challenge to keep me busy for a few more years. I have proven to myself that it's not the job I hate, it's the lack of authority to back up the work that I have to do. I herd managers, but I am not one myself. The question is, am I willing to do what it takes to become one?

I just want to be the boss. That's all.