Monday, 16 May 2011

The Job Interview from Hell

Long time no post. Ja, well I'm not the most prolific blogger. Whatevs.

So, 2 weeks ago I finally moved house.  This has pro's and cons, for eg: Pro - more space; Con - cockroaches.  In the midst of this moving mayhem, I get a phone call confirming that I have been invited to a job interview for a position I applied for a while back.  The position is in Kwa-Zulu Natal (KZN), where it is my goal to live in the not too distant future.  So an interview for a job there should be a good thing.  But it wasn't.  I have got far too much going on in my life at the moment to worry about a new job in a different part of the country as well.

So after a small panic attack, I figured seeing as they were going to fly me down for the interview I would go and do my best.  Thats when things started going awry.  It was Wednesday when I confirmed that I would be attending. By the Monday I had still not heard anything about flight arrangements.  As I am most definatley NOT a frequent flyer, I wanted to make sure that everything was organised and arranged (I am slightly OCD that way).  So I phoned on Monday and got the assurance I would be sent everything that afternoon.  By Tuesday morning, there was still nothing.  Tuesday afternoon I phoned twice before I got through to the right person who again assured me they would fax the details to me immediately.  The fax came through just before the end of the day.  Then I found out that my flight to KZN would be leaving at 6am on Thursday.  Which meant I had to be at the airport at least an hour before.  Which meant I had to wake up at like 3am, as I live 45min to an hour away from the airport.

I resigned myself to that fact, and as the interview was scheduled for 9am I figured it would be over quickly and I could relax for the rest of the day.  My flight back home left KZN at 3pm so it was still gonna be a long day, but I could do it.  After making sure that someone would tranport me to and from the airport, I thought all the arrangements were fine and I could relax. HAHAHAHAH.

After waking up pre-sparrows fart on Thursday morning and driving the 45 min to the aiport, I get on the plane and take a deep breath.  Thanks to Lori Otto's Lost and Found, I had reading material on my iPod to keep me distracted for the hour long flight.  The plane landed at the local (and may I add weeny) airport at 07:10, and I confidently looked around expecting to see someone holding a sign with my name on or something. You know, like you see in the movies? And at airports? Regularly? No. Such. Luck.  'So they're a bit late', I thought to myself, 'I'll just wait around'.  By 8am I thought I better contact someone.  'Oh, have you landed already?' I was asked, [DUH!].  I was then told that someone was on their way, but could I please walk out of the airpot to a specific parking area so they could pick me up without having to actually enter the weeny airport.  Oh well, I aim to please.

I stood in that specific parking area for 1 hour. ONE FUCKING HOUR!  Nowhere to sit except on the pavement, and I didn't want to get my super snappy interview outfit dirty, so I stood.  And by this time I was late for my 9am interview.  I was finally hooted at, (HOOTED AT)!!! and driven to the place of the interview.  Then, wait for it.... I was told the interview had been moved to 12:00. 

I was getting a bit miffed.
So I had to sit in a tiny cramped reception, without even a water machine.  And the offer of a cup of tea or coffee was too much to dream.  Fortunately my friend, Jacqui, lives in the area and was at a meeting in the city so she came and rescued me and we went to a coffee shop.  I had a Spicy Chai Hot Chocolate and fresh scones.  That was the highlight of my day.  God Bless Jacqui and Spicy Chai Hot Chocolate.

Can fix alot. Unfortunately it didn't last.
So I arrived back at interview building (aka Hell) just after 11:00, and I sat down and waited. And waited and waited and waited and waited. 12:00 came and went and I was still waiting.  I asked the receptionist what was going on and she really did not have much of a clue.  Or a brain.  Which probably accounts for the cluelessness, shame poor thing.  Now, I had a 3pm flight to catch which meant I had to be back at the weeny airpot by 14:30 at the absolute latest.  14:00 came and went and so did my chance to catch my flight home.  Throughout all of this no-one felt it necessary to inform me of what was going on.  I ended up asking the receptionist to put me through to the lady I had previously spoken to, and she (once again) assured me that I would not be sleeping there. Well, thank fuck for that.  They were trying to get me a later flight...

Uh... Not so much..
Sometime after 14:00 I was finally called into the interview room.  There I was (again) assured (I wanted to vomit at that point, and was also suffering from dehydration delusions) that they would fly me home, and at worst, they would put me up for the night. Wait, WHAT?!?!?.  I have no idea how the interview went.  I told the panel that I was not at my best as I was suffering the effects of stress and exhaustion after being up since 3am and suffering through cock up after cock up (my wording may have been more polite).  The interview panel seemed to be under the impression that my interview was scheduled for 13:00 and they couldn't understand why it had been arranged that I fly back at a time that would barely have allowed me to be interviewed.  I told them as far as I knew, the interview was not supposed to take place as late as 13:00.

After like 11 hours, I doubt I could've spelled my name correctly.
So after a rather speedy interview, where I am sure I came across as narcolepsy sufferer, I was sent back down to the reception to wait. And wait.  I was told I would be flying out at 18:30, and someone would drive me the airport soon.  I waited and waited and waited.  Finally I was in a car on the way back to the airport, with no flight confirmation and a dejected outlook on my life, humanity and the world in general.  After a couple of sticky moments at the check in desk where they couldn't find my ticket number, I was finally given my boarding pass.  Another hours' wait in the weeny airport, and I was on a plane home.

I still had the 45min drive back to my house, in the dark, and as I had double vision by this time I probably should not have been on the road.  I received no apologies, no offers for refreshment, no explanation.  And with my luck this will be the job that I am offered.

If it wasn't for Lost and Found I may have lost my mind.  It would have been unfindable.


  1. Holy crap, that doesn't sound like hell, it sounds like the place the devil will go when he is bad, a grand daddy of hell. Some people don't realise, it is in situations like these that otherwise normal people become suicidal hostage takers. Well done for getting back home without blood on your hands...

  2. Thanks for your congratulations. I really deserve them. I didn't kill anyone! And I went back for a second interview.... Okay maybe I'm just mentally challenged....