THE GREAT BOOKSTORE DISASTER OF '08
Kate Russell
Copyright 2012 Kate Russell
Smashwords Edition
Discover other titles by Kate Russell at Smashwords.com
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
For Penny, who embraces the crazy.
If you’ve mastered the art of interviewing, if the experience makes the HR person want to hire you on the spot, congratulations. This article is not for you. For the rest of you out there, maybe there’s comfort in knowing that you’re not the only one to have a promising opportunity turn into a catastrophe.
Warning: some of the facts—at least the ones I remember—surrounding the Great Bookstore Disaster of ’08 have been changed to make me look better.
Besides a few spectacular missteps, I had a pretty good track record with interviews. After all, I’d been employed in the past. However, I was now a stay-at-home mom who longed to be with other adults. I was thrilled when I saw an ad in our local paper announcing that the incoming bookstore chain was conducting interviews at a nearby hotel. I loved books. I liked money. I liked the idea of saving money on books. Never mind that I was constantly finding forgotten books wedged in every nook and cranny in my house.
Saturday morning, I was professionally dressed; lugging my suitcase of a purse, and a folder with my resume, references, and the application I’d downloaded and filled out the night before. I was ahead of the game already.
When I got to the hotel, I was ushered into a room where a couple other applicants were filling out paperwork at small tables scattered throughout. I tentatively smiled at them. A high school kid with piercings scowled at me. A middle-aged woman looked up and frowned.
Okay, then. I had a better chance than either one of them, because I, at least, could look happy.
My first interview was conducted by a young woman with glasses. She was friendly, asked me a few questions, and then sent me back to my lonely table. Since I’d been so smart the night before, I now had nothing to do, except memorize my resume.