Sometimes you wonder, beyond all your skills, how much more time and effort it’s going to take to get back on the smooth, fast job track.
There’s no guarantee that yesterday’s walk-in interview was as ultimately successful as I would like, at least I haven’t heard ‘You’re the man!’ by 10 a.m. I presented my various abilities regarding the administrative-sales hybrid position I had learned about to the decision maker, and got a decently hearty handshake after 15-20 minutes of the owner-Boss Man’s time though, and that’s tough to beat nowadays. Ask any car salesman about two hours with a ‘one-legger’ who wants to discuss an incredible deal with the not-there wife about the difference.
The job-seeker who actually gets such an opportunity should 1) thank God, or whatever entity/Universal force they believe in, 2) lay out your best case as well and succinctly as possible, and 3) send a follow-up note (vs. an e-mail!) recapping some high points and acknowledging thanks for the time and chance to present yourself. Having gotten up close and personal attention, you *don’t* want to blow it because they’re too busy to check the inbox for two days, or an e- somehow goes into Spam folder. Many gurus will tell you this, believe it.
Having decided to drive 31 miles to take such a shot, after recruiter indicated he was kind of clueless about how to deal with ‘old school’ type—and probably my resume, because he’s essentially a millennial-aged IT and finance guy—I’m taking time after filling out another online form and sending a couple e-s in follow-up to companies from a job board to make a point.
The recession pretty much blew away the walk in a door-impress the Boss Man-get a job-become Successful scenario many probably saw in a movie, especially if 40 is anywhere on your radar. When sooo many were looking for ANY job, recruiting firms became the way to deny seekers access to the boss’ time. A certain frustration crops up daily knowing that, whatever your conglomeration of skills are, not being a super-techie, having zero chance at becoming a home run hitting sports legend, or (probably) winning the lottery, means having to rely on someone who might have been a twinkle in someone’s eye when you got a college degree near the end of last century.
‘Bob’ told me twice I presented myself well, and that he appreciated fact I’d been able to find his company’s front door. He asked questions and listened to answers—“I don’t see that on your resume,” “It doesn’t fit on one page. Expectation (if sent vs. presented) is there’s enough to raise your interest, then I’d hope to tailor extra information if we got an opportunity to meet,”– even if one or two indicated I lacked something pertinent. Having asked about his company’s ‘footprint’ (area worked in, which was 200 miles), been able to relate ABCs of skills to the reality of position he’d discussed with a recruiter, and told him enough about current website–‘no testimonials, but your competitor only has one, and its negative’, or the spot for a blog had a two year old date on it– showed a definitive interest on my part. It’s impossible to deny how powerful that is in person vs. anything else.
There’s more to do of course, because only one result counts in sales, and that’s someone signing something that equals agreement (and you get paid). For one day though, hell, even 20 minutes! it’s no problem to be happy about having a great chance to present Glenn Shorkey to an honest-to-God decision maker.