Is it accepted to begin a job interview in the elevator? I wonder. “So I see here” (my Shrekky interviewer holds a crumpled copy of my precious CV in her hands) “that you worked in…” – elevator stops. I try to say something witty while following the hurrying lady to the interview room. She stops before the door and looks at me with a confused expression on her face. She forgot the key. Well, I sure don’t have it, now do I? I don’t work here (yet!), remember? “I know I came a bit early,” I say with a polite smile (trying to suppress my laughter), “do you need some more time to get ready?” Power shift? I chuckle softly to myself when this chick tries to hunt down one of her colleagues to lend her a key. Half way down the corridor she hollers, “D’you want something to drink?” after already getting herself a cup of cold water.
Finally in the interview room, I wait politely to be asked to sit down. I stand there like a schmuk though I know Israelis have no clue about these standard politenesses, but she’s not even looking in my direction. In her haphazard manner she rummages through her bag and discovers she doesn’t have a pen to write with. I offer her mine, resourceful as I am. I decide to sit without being asked to. I’m already losing my patience with this woman, who keeps shooting questions at me and doesn’t wait for an answer. Her boobs spill on the table (why the hell did I bother to dress like a prude?); her head is bent down to the piece of paper, once in a while turning left to the mobile phone. Which of course rings. Which she of course takes up and examines curiously. “Ahhh, so what were you saying…? I’m all yours now,” she says without even looking up at me.
Ten minutes after I’m out, being promised to be called for a second interview with the CEO. God bless her, she liked me!
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