9/13/2020
"Rich! Rich!" he was crazily yelling, to no one. I had just gotten there. Tuna sandwich, book and beach towel in my backpack. The others on the dock along the Charles River on that Tuesday also noticed. Alarmed heads popped up confused by the commotion. Probably 50 feet away, sun and sweat in my eyes, mask on my face.
”Rich!” he repeated.
Finally, I point at myself, ”me?”.
"Yeah!” he yells.
“They always find me”, I think.
"Rich its me, Ollie - are you Rich?”
“No”, I said.
"You look just like him, but I haven't seen him in a few years” he tells me.
I'm about to say "there's a bunch of us out there" when he added, "All you white guys look alike”. My response still applied so, I say it. Ollie seems apologetic about the confusion. He tells me he’s racially mixed and that it would've been nice to see his old friend. The sun has calmed down or maybe I was just used to it. I got a better look at him. Dreadlocks, bright red flat brimmed baseball hat. Maybe a college kid. Regular guy hoping to see his old friend. I realize I'm genuinely sorry to disappoint him. Imagining how much better my bike ride, book and lunch would be if I had stumbled into a friend on a sunny summer September afternoon.
I was doing all I could do to distract myself. Waiting for the results from a job interview.
A three part process that ended exactly one week before.
Part 1.
Just me and my computer. Answer trivia-like questions into the webcam. The question pops on the screen, the clock ticks down 30 seconds. Prepare your response. Prepare your smile. Another clock gives you 2 minutes.120 seconds at your well lit kitchen counter to answer. "Why do you consider yourself the best candidate for this position?"
“Fuck you” says my brain, I realize I’m rusty.
“Focus!”, I tell myself.
I hear my voice. Hear the upstairs neighbors. The traffic. The rocks and gravel being shoveled into next door neighbor’s new driveway. Is the refrigerator leaking? There might squirrels in the walls. The sound of my voice awkwardly overpowers all of the background noise but, not the internal racket. There are 5 or 6 of these trivial questions. Close the laptop. Leave the kitchen. Leave the house. Leave your body. Leave your mind.
Part 2.
A phone call with HR. Relieved there’s no camera. I recite my autobiography as I pace around my apartment.
hometown, college, employment history and relevant experience.
successes, challenges and absurdities.
salary, benefits and expectations.
We go off topic and into overtime, we touch on the meaning of life and then cover favorite bands and TV shows. Was that an interview or a quarantine date-from-home?
Part 3.
A Zoom with 2 women from the company. Research, prepare, rehearse.
Put together my clothes the day before. Webcam as my mirror, I put on my shirt, tie and suit jacket. In my college Film Production class this was artsy, for some people this is every day, at my kitchen counter this is urgent:
check the camera angle
check lighting
check the sound
close the windows
check background
Wear the suit pants incase I have to get up and move. Wear my watch with the dead battery. Complete the outfit. Time has been irrelevant for months. The interview is at 1:00pm, right after an early lunch. Eat a ham sandwich and sign on to the meeting early. Self reflection time in the computer screen. I'd hire me, I think. 10 minutes later 2 very friendly faces emerge.
formalities and pleasantries
introductions and acknowledgement of the weird world.
Like most people currently employed, the webcam has been their mirror for months. Like my broken watch, I lose track of time. An hour flies by. I impress myself with my stories and accomplishments. I’m amazing, I think. All of the standard questions asked and answered.
name a time…
tell us about…
why now?
etc….
I asked my questions. We all wished each other well.
"You'll hear from HR by the end of the week”. Their faces disappear.
I'm the last to leave. Self reflection in the screen again.
“Life might change quickly” I think. “Or, this costly pace of the pandemic proceeds”.
Time will tell.
The end of the week comes and goes. It’s quiet, too quiet. “Was my confidence a false positive” I ask myself. It’s a long weekend, my first unemployed Labor Day since 1994. Time stands still. Is the watch battery guy at the mall open? Does it matter?
Still Tuesday. Staring at the words in my book, I notice Ollie as he leaves the Charles River Dock. I give an unnoticed half wave as if to say "hope you see your friend soon”. It’s now calm and quiet. Too quiet. Traffic humming in constant motion along Storrow Drive. Hoping this ambient atmosphere of white noise might hypnotize me away from my phone. At home a long night takes over until Wednesday begins.
The unfortunate email arrives Wednesday after breakfast at 9:22am. There's no need to read it. Sent from a ‘donotreply’ email address from Human Resources. The formal format has the personality of paperwork. Skimming it until I see the word, ‘unfortunately’. Its not bold but, once you see it, its all you see. Like circling the words in a word search puzzle. Game over.
“What the hell {insert HR name}?!” We talked for an hour! “We both like mini golf, Dinosaur Jr and Bernadette Peters! I lied about watching Schitt’s Creek.” A sales person needs a Turn Down reason. Tracked down HR. Other candidates had more specific experience. But, it was agreed I’d be a good culture fit. A generic reject. She liked me personally, but she’s going to see other people…
Still Wednesday. Creature of habit. Keep moving. Afternoon bike ride. Roast beef sandwich and book. Still checking my email. Like checking my back pocket for a lost wallet. It’s not there but, it should be.
At home, a new older neighbor gets out of her car as I drag my bike up the front steps.
"Can you help me?" she asks. She was dog sitting at a neighbor’s house and locked the dog in a room. "How can I get him out?" she wonders out loud.
“They always find me”, I think.
"What if I tried using a credit card in the door knob to unlock it, would that work?" she asks.
No energy for puzzles or questions, I didn’t prepare a smile or a response, ”I guess its worth a shot” I casually say. She tells me the owners will be home in 2 hours, they can open a window. I'm not helpful but, she thanks me.
“I thought you'd know,” she says, “you look talented".
"That's deceiving" I say with a sincere smile.
She laughs and walks away as the pandemic pace proceeds.
Tuesday I was Rich, Wednesday I was talented. “Rich and Talented” sounds like the title of a reality show that I don't want to watch.
“Unfortunately, it sandwiched my week”, I think as I wonder what’s for lunch tomorrow.
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