The Job Interview From Hell

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Just work woke up from the worst dream I’ve had in a long time, and I had to put it somewhere. Can’t do it on Facebook because there’s always someone making jokes when I’m trying to be serious about things.

Let’s picture the scene: the interview was being held in some swanky office somewhere in central London. One of those offices in a brand new renovated building, where you go up to the third or fourth floor and get a nice view of the surrounding greenery as well as the “power buildings” in the distance. As soon as you get to the right floor, you could hear phones going off and see people walking around, obviously more concerned with looking a certain way and not actually being good at their jobs.

Things started going wrong when I found out who would be interviewing me… and they looked a lot like the bosses from my former jobs as an employee. It seemed as if their job was to go through my CV and experience, pick them apart and find every single criticism about them. Occasionally they’d slip in a little cheap shot about me and the way I was dressed. They even had a go at me for using the word “crap”, acting as if it was a swear word.

For whatever reason, in my infinite wisdom I turned up in very casual clothes, with the one saving grace being I’d at least taken a shower. Everybody in the office (except the women) looked like they were investment bankers or something, and there wasn’t a single item of clothing that wasn’t a name brand. They really didn’t like what I was wearing, to the point where they brought in a broke Toby Young looking manager type who was some kind of fashion expert: he gave “tips” on how to sit, and just laughed to himself when it came to my clothes.

In fact, just about everybody decided to take shots at me for one reason or another, laughing to themselves and in their small groups. Even the interviewer’s PA – who clearly got the job based on her oral skills – had to chime in about how badly my past interviews with other companies had gone.

When it became obvious that they weren’t going to hire me, and that they let the interview drag on solely to ridicule me, I decided to leave. By this time just about everybody in the office was laughing at me, but somewhat noticeable were the people who weren’t: those at the very bottom of the hierarchy, who may have known all too well what pigs the management and other staff were.

The final straw came when I had to get the bus back home: there were traffic jams as it had started raining, and I could never catch the right bus as they kept stopping or disappearing. My phone battery was dead so I couldn’t call the recruitment person involved.

That’s around the point where I woke up, thankful that it was just a bad dream. However, it felt painfully similar to my experiences in many places I’ve worked previously, as well as a number of dealings with feckless (and somewhat stupid) recruitment people.
Issues such as being treated as a scapegoat and yet disposable, being talked over and not listened to, and not being able to demonstrate certain skills and experience (due to draconian non-disclosure agreements) were coming up. Another annoying issue was my being typecast for short contracts: some stupid recruitment people see this as non-committal, therefore refusing to put me forward for longer-term contracts. It’s reminiscent of the whole “experience” paradox I kept running into at the start of my career.

As for the way I dressed: I have no idea why I would turn up to an interview completely casually. My only guess is that I didn’t have time to prepare, or that I was kept completely in the dark about what was expected during the interview stage. However, they made it obvious they were only looking for excuses to ridicule me.

I suppose this dream came about because of my efforts in getting a Kickstarter project going, and some recent feedback from Kickstarter staff. It was one of those situations where certain information about how to make a successful project was withheld (or at least, I didn’t see it) until after the hard work was done. In this case it was about adding references to past experience and the project itself.
Have you ever had one of those instances where nobody says a damn thing until after you’ve put the work in, and then all of a sudden here they are to dispense their “wisdom”? I certainly have.

There were a few things to learn from that bad dream, including the sad truth that appearance – image – is treated as more important than actual ability. You won’t see me in designer labels any time soon, but you’ll never see me turning up to an interview in jeans and trainers.

Real Women Take Responsibility For Their Actions

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female-poster

This was my response to yet another clearly misandric campaign, which had the slogan “Real Men Don’t Buy Girls”. They would like to have you believe it’s all about child prostitution in third world countries, and that a bunch of celebrities just happened to stumble across the issue one morning, during their daily sip of Cristal.

I’m very certain that I’ve pissed off so many people on Facebook that hardly anyone sees my posts, but it didn’t get much of a response at all. I guess because, along with me asking my female audience why they still choose to run away from difficult situations, the idea of taking responsibility for themselves puts most people (men and women) into disappearing mode.

I don’t pay any attention to the media these days, but this was brought to my attention by 6oodfella on YouTube, who put out a very interesting video about it yesterday.

Personally I think it’s time we started holding women accountable for their actions, and start defining what “real women” supposedly do – even and especially those who do absolutely nothing about misandry and reap the benefits. I’m not suggesting that child prostitution is the child’s fault at all… and for that matter, why is the campaign focusing on girls and not children?

If for some reason the idea of defining “real women” doesn’t sound like a good idea, then I suggest we refrain from defining “real men”, and dropping the tired slogan “real men xyz”.

Shaming Phone Calls

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Over the last few months, since having to move out of rented accommodation and back to the folks’ place, I’ve had numerous calls and emails from lying recruitment people (pretending to have work but just want to put me in a database), and lazy recruitment people who read from a script and hadn’t bothered reading any of my information.

I’ve tried to make it as clear as possible that I’m only interested in contract work, both on job sites and in my CV. But regardless of all my efforts, I still get called up by people “chancing it” with offers of permanent work, and increasingly about work outside of London.

Earlier this week I faced a Howard Roark situation when someone (who claimed to be an ex-recruiter) called me up about a role that seemed perfect: it was okay money, and I’d get to work from home, doing something I was more than capable of. But this person had reservations about putting me forward, mostly because of the notice I’d put on my CV.

In an effort to thwart the more lazy recruitment people, the first page of my CV is a brief notice (as “professionally” as I could write it, of course) warning that I won’t be represented by just anybody, nor would I take just any job. Given my previous experiences with recruitment people and the clients they represent, I realised that many of them couldn’t give a damn about freelancers (read: me), to the point where they saw themselves as being superior.

Granted, I was not in the best of moods when I took the call. I’d been ripped off for work I’d done last year, I hadn’t been paid in months, and I was being bombarded with template calls and emails from recruitment people bringing fake hope, when I was keen to get back into work. But it became apparent that I was on the phone to a chatterbox, who in the end did nothing but defend the lazy practices of their recruitment buddies.

When issued with what amounted to an ultimatum, I simply told them,

If you don’t think I’m the right person for the job, don’t put me forward.

It was an all too easy decision for this person to deny me the job, and after some more yapping on their part the phone call ended.

Although the immediate reaction was to think I’d shot myself in the foot, I’m convinced I’d made the right decision in the long run, and that the phone call was nothing more than an attempt to shame me.

Firstly, this person did little but talk, talk, talk, and it was obvious that they weren’t listening to a thing I said. People who run their mouths and bad listeners make bad agents in my book, and I refuse to be represented by such people.

Secondly, everything this person said indicated approval of the status quo, rather than acknowledgement. Anybody who suggests someone bends to the will of someone else is condoning what that someone else is doing, good or bad, and I refuse to be represented by people who are happy with poor service.

Thirdly, it was clear that this person’s decision to deny me the job had nothing to do with my abilities or me as a person, but it was a personal choice. One thing I know is that when someone decides to withhold things, it’s usually a calculated, predetermined decision, and one thing they like to do is pretend the other person screwed up somehow. I refuse to be represented by liars, as well as people who think they’re “better” than me.

Some people are so uncomfortable about the idea of doing things differently, and demanding higher standards from others, that they’ll get nasty and resort to shaming tactics – just like the feminists – to “get us” to conform and stay inside a convenient little box. It’s certainly not easy to stand your ground, especially when money is a critical issue. But like Howard Roark (from The Fountainhead), I would rather take up manual labour than be represented by someone who clearly isn’t about helping me find work.

What’s your take?

The Heavy Subject of Suicide

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First of all, a belated Happy New Year to anyone interested enough to be reading this post. I’ve been on my YouTube/web development thing for the last few months, and haven’t had much motivation to post on DREWspective.

Speaking of YouTube: a while ago I made a video on the subject of suicide, in response to what I felt were ignorant comments made by Tommy Sotomayor in one of his videos, regarding a [American] footballer player who committed a suicide murder.
Normally I would leave it at distancing myself from him and not watching his videos, but I had to address the seemingly popular opinions about suicidal people that mirrored his comments.

I’ve since watched a couple of other excellent videos addressing this issue, and felt it necessary to spread the word about them because they deserve a heck of a lot more views.

This one’s from natasha78d, who breaks the subject down nicely:

And proteanview put this short and sweet one out:

It is and always has been the opinion of DREWspective that suicidal thoughts are a symptom of overwhelming pain: that the expression of suicidal thoughts or wanting to die are a cry for help, and should be taken very seriously. Anyone who thinks otherwise is a selfish piece of crap.

If you are feeling suicidal, or know anyone who is, http://metanoia.org/suicide is a site I’d highly recommend.

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