The vagaries of the human condition...

[Roger Kettle]

Red, I apologise for hijacking the thread but, in my defence, it had already drifted towards birth dates and star signs. Needless to say, I fervently hope you get the job of your dreams or, if not, something that is both satisfying and rewarding. As someone who has been recently made unemployed, I sympathise!
Mince took you up on your offer to "feel free to once more hijack this topic" and, I must admit, came up with an amusing contribution. Even in its original form, Mary Poppins scared the crap out of me. A strange film.

[Redundant]

No worries Roger, every thread gets hijacked by everyone, including me, I just like to harp on about it!  The job of my dreams doesn't exist sadly, and if it did it would be illegal in most of Europe I would imagine.   I have to admit that I wandered back into Corporate Service about a month ago, I lasted a day...new record for me I think.  Something will turn up I am sure, I am equally sure my wife will have a Greek holiday booked the day after.

[Redundant]

Had to add to this, it's turning out to be a weird week.   Yesterday I did the shortest and strangest interview in my entire career, a couple of "hello, nice to meet you"'s, a "That's a spectacular view" and a very brief resume of my career so far, five minutes later and I was out the door wondering if any of it was real.

Today another interview, only this one lasted two hours and twenty minutes, and I now know everything about my potential employer apart from his shoe size [it just never came up in his monologue].

I am hoping to round off the week being interviewed for a job that doesn't exist...

[Roger Kettle]

Red, your story about a brief interview reminded me of a similar situation that happened to me about 20 years ago. Out of nowhere, I got a phone call from Kelvin McKenzie, who was then the editor of The Sun. He explained that they had been discussing comic strips and that our Beau Peep strip had been favourably mentioned and would I be interested in moving from The Star. I explained that I was going to be in London in a few weeks time and would be happy to meet up and discuss any potential business. His response was that they wanted things to be sorted out as quickly as possible. The Sun would fly me down from Dundee two days later and put me up in the Waldorf hotel for a couple of nights while the negotiations took place. Um, okay, I said.
When I arrived in McKenzie's office, we spent about 30 seconds discussing the weather before he asked me how much The Star paid for Beau Peep. He listened as I told him the money involved---which, trust me, wasn't huge---before announcing that it was more than The Sun was willing to pay. His next question was "Do you know anyone else who could do a strip for us?"
The interview lasted about 5 minutes. I'd been given return flights from Dundee to London and put up in the Waldorf hotel for two nights to discuss something that could have been resolved in ten seconds over the phone.
Ah, those were the days.

[Mince]

Roger, they probably also just wanted a few cool nights in the hotel.

Red, shoe size is important in an employer. I made the mistake of not finding out and had to work for Big Foot for several years. Eventually I got myself fired for saying things like "Squatch'ya gonna do?" and playing Hop Squatch. His main problem was that he just didn't believe in himself. I tried cheering him up by telling him he was the reigning world champion at Hide and Seek but overall the experience was abominable.

[Sandy Buttcheeks]

I too, believe that shoe size will come to be important...just not yeti.


 

[Tarquin Thunderthighs lll]

Bartender, I'll have a pint of whatever those two ^ ^ have been drinking.

[Tarquin Thunderthighs lll]

I've no idea if Roger went through the same interview process as me when he joined DC Thomson & Co. Ltd (purveyors of fine journalism, including the UK's leading children's comics back then), but it certainly remains one of the more bizarre mornings of my life, and that's saying something. It was akin to speed-dating, long before that was a thing, where it felt to me like I was being interviewed by everyone in the company, one after the other, as they filed in and out of the small Office Of Interrogation, asking me a myriad of questions ranging from pertinent journalistic themes, to "What football team do you support?" (that was Podgy Whiner, Roger). I later found out that all these people were either editors or their deputies, sizing me up for the assorted office junior vacancies, and I like to think they all met up in a big room afterwards and fought to near death over who was getting me. Although I suspect it was more a case of drawing straws to see who had to take me (it was 'The Beano').

The most bizarre bit though was the timed multiple-choice questionnaire, delivered to me, and invigilated, by the intimidating (but lovely) head typist, Big Nancy. Memory perhaps plays tricks, but it must have been at least 200 pages long, with questions even more varied than the sea of faces that preceded them that day. I've forgotten what most of them were, but the one that sticks in my memory, word for word (because I read it several times, after my spontaneous guffaw prompted Nancy to remark, "Ah - you've reached that one!") was this...

If you spotted a two-year-old child alone in the street, would you:
a)  Ignore it.
b)  Ask its name and address.
c)  Take it to the nearest police station.
d)  If it was a nice one, take it home and keep it.

Imagine the dilemma over that one (and a number of others that were like it) when you knew you were being interviewed for a humorous publication.

[Redundant]

Bartender, I'll have a pint of whatever those two ^ ^ have been drinking.

Me too!   I also had a couple of weird "trips" in my time, including a five day visit to New York, many moons ago.  I went fully prepared for five days of meetings/work, spent a total of about an hour in the actual office and was told to "Go and enjoy New York" which I proceeded to do, very successfully.

I e-mailed the agency that sent me for the "prolonged" interview, who told me I got off quite lightly with only two hours & twenty minutes as the client was "a bit of a talker".  I wrote back and indicated that the absence of any warning of same before the interview constituted an act of betrayal and that revenge would surely follow.

[Redundant]

The most bizarre bit though was the timed multiple-choice questionnaire, delivered to me, and invigilated, by the intimidating (but lovely) head typist, Big Nancy. Memory perhaps plays tricks, but it must have been at least 200 pages long, with questions even more varied than the sea of faces that preceded them that day. I've forgotten what most of them were, but the one that sticks in my memory, word for word (because I read it several times, after my spontaneous guffaw prompted Nancy to remark, "Ah - you've reached that one!") was this...

If you spotted a two-year-old child alone in the street, would you:
a)  Ignore it.
b)  Ask its name and address.
c)  Take it to the nearest police station.
d)  If it was a nice one, take it home and keep it.

     Lord knows what the terrible twosome will develop from that one...gentlemen start your keyboards.

[Sandy Buttcheeks]

The most bizarre bit though was the timed multiple-choice questionnaire, delivered to me, and invigilated, by the intimidating (but lovely) head typist, Big Nancy. Memory perhaps plays tricks, but it must have been at least 200 pages long, with questions even more varied than the sea of faces that preceded them that day. I've forgotten what most of them were, but the one that sticks in my memory, word for word (because I read it several times, after my spontaneous guffaw prompted Nancy to remark, "Ah - you've reached that one!") was this...

If you spotted a two-year-old child alone in the street, would you:
a)  Ignore it.
b)  Ask its name and address.
c)  Take it to the nearest police station.
d)  If it was a nice one, take it home and keep it.

     Lord knows what the terrible twosome will develop from that one...gentlemen start your keyboards.

Now, it doesn't say whether the child came with a receipt or not, so for me that rules out d), since you couldn't return it.
For c), you would be putting it in lost property. 6 months later, you can claim it as your own if no one else has claimed in the interim. At this point, please refer to d).
In the case of b)....if it's clever enough at 2yrs to know it's name and address, just bung it a taxi fare.
This leaves a)...always the best policy. It's good parenting. Honest !!