1:00 p.m. - 2006-01-24
one for the people
I'm sorry for those of you who did not appreciate my football entry. I have a wide audience. That one was for the sports fans. I'll try to stick more to making fun of people and telling embarassing stories about myself which is what seems to appeal to SOME people. Actually, maybe this entry should be making fun of people who are crazy about sports.
I think I will instead report some good news. I got a call today about a second interview for one of the jobs I interviewed for last week. I am supposed to meet with them next week. They told me at the last interview that they would be doing first round interviews for two more weeks, so the fact that they called me two business days after my interview is very promising. Keep your fingers crossed.
Ok, one slightly embarrassing, almost disasterous interview story:
So I went into the interview confidently about everything except this: My pantyhose.
I really hate pantyhose and avoid them at all costs. But my best interviewing suit has a skirt and it really has a Bam! quality to it. When I wear it I look like I mean business. You can't skip the pantyhose in January. So I went to Sears, bought a mid-priced pair and squeezed the lower half of my body into them like ground meat into sausage casing. They itch. They scratch. They pinch. They chaffe. They squeeze.
And this particular pair, I discovered as I walked across the parking lot toward my interview, had very little elasticity. In fact, they were scootching and sliding down at an alarming rate. They had been anchored firmly above my bellybutton when I left the house and at this point, as I opened the door to the office, they were situated precariously at my bikini line and headed further south. I put a hand on my hip, glanced around to make sure no one was looking and gave them a good yank. I always imagine someone sees me in these moments and pray they are not 1. on teh interviewing panel and 2. do not have a video camera.
If you've ever had a similar problem with your pantyhose, you'll know that yanking them back into place is only instant gratification, and short-lived at that. It only buys you a tiny bit of time. I envisioned my flacid stockings wilting down to my knees as I introduced myself to the executive director.
I managed to get through the interview by taking very small steps, keeping a hand on my hip, casually of course and sitting down quickly. When it came to an end, I put both hands at my sides and extended only my right to shake the hands of the interviewers and retrieve my portfolio from the floor. Small steps out the door and to the car. My the time I got to the car, they were absolutely halfway down my thighs. I took a quick glance around to make sure no one was close enough to see, yanked them off and tossed them on the floor in front of the passenger seat. Where, now that I think about it, they remain even now. I need to clean out my car.
I have to say, I get FAR more nervous when it comes to interviews about my clothes than anything else. For some reason, I seem to be a magnet for spills, runs, tears, buttons popping off, deoderant stains and various pantyhose issues on interview days. The questions don't get to me. Meeting new people is a breeze. Finding the place, maybe I pray to God that Mapquest doesn't tell me to drive straight into a lake, but overall, it's no sweat. Except for the clothes.
So next wednesday, you know you can ask the Lord for the following on my behalf: a pair of pantyhose that behave themselves and that I would have the sense to avoid everything but air once I get dressed.
