Wednesday, 24 March 2010

The ante- interview

Thursday arrived and it was looking doubtful that I would be able to attend any interview the following day. So I stayed in bed and no preparatory work was done for the morrow.

Friday, I felt a bit better, but the top of my head still felt like it wanted to part company with the rest of me. More ibuprophen and I was out of bed and having my first shower for a few days.

Still mobile, so I switched on the computer and tried to find out more information about what the post involved. It looked very complicated and you could do months, or was it years of training to become one.

The job “advert” had a description of about 15 words to go on.

I looked for similar posts in the UK, to see what their duties involved.

I looked on Googlemap to see exactly where I had to go for the interview. That part of the street was of course covered in scaffolding and green material.

I printed off a few pages, got dressed semi smartish, had some more pills and set off into the sunshine, which had arrived just to hurt my eyes.

Okay here was the street. I was looking for Number 1.

I find Number 1 ter, so I go in the door and up a tiny windy staircase. None to fhe office doors look promising and right on the top floor there is an honour guard of large garden gnomes on each side of the staircase, a large nautical themed mirror and a big sign on the door which said something like “Welcome aboard”. Of course I hadn’t got a camera with me, so I may have been hallucinating.

Back down the steps and into that bright sunshine. The next building was 1 bis, and did not look promising. I carried on up the road and there it was, a proper Number 1.

Of course it has a box of buttons to press to gain access. None of the descriptions matched anything that I was looking for.

Fortunately I was here 10 minutes early. A lady came along the pavement towards me as I gazed glassily at the buttons. There were pieces of paper stuck inside the glass door, one of which said that interviews for something or other were being held on floor 1 for town posts and floor 2 for other areas.

Could she help me?

I explained that I had come for an interview and she suggested a route that might take me to the first floor one. The post that I had applied for was 5 miles or so out of town.

Up more stairs and she spotted a list of names stuck on a door leading to a long corridor. My name was on the top of the list of 6 or 7 names.

It was very hot, not just me overheating. This building had its own global warming situation going on.

I walked to the end of the corridor and through an half open door I could hear voices. It was about 2 minutes to my interview time, so I popped my head round the door to tell them that I had arrived.

They told me that the third member of the panel had not arrived yet, so could I please take a seat in the corridor.

I took a seat and the clock ticked on. Another interviewee arrived and sat next to me. She started talking. Was I there for the interview? I said that I was. But you are English! she said in French. I confirmed that I was indeed English and explained that the interview panel were waiting for their colleague to arrive before starting. Her interview time was 14:00.

Another interviewee arrived.... Eventually, about 20 minutes late, I was called into the interview room.

1 comment:

  1. so you're on the mend? good for you, hope you didn't cough all over them.


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