Extreme Job Interview Stress
I can remember an interview I had that, at the time, was quite bizarre, but in retrospect is quite funny.
I was in my early twenties and had applied for a supervisory position at a medical management company.
I knew I had the skills necessary for the job and had prepared myself extensively for the interview at hand. I dressed in my best suit and arrived at the corporate offices to interview.
I first met with the manager of the finance office. She was very pleasant and seemed very knowledgeable about the industry. I felt very at ease with her, and my responses flowed effortlessly.
I kept thinking, "This is a piece of cake." She then advised me that she wanted me to meet with the CFO as well.
I took this as a good sign and enthusiastically introduced myself to him. His office was the typical executive office, complete with the black leather executive chair. He would ask me a question, and feeling confident, I would begin to answer.
During the midst of my response, he would ask me another question.
Again, I would begin to answer, and then he interrupted me again with yet another question. When I managed to answer a question completely, he sat back in his chair and sighed.
In my mind I kept thinking the interview was not going well.
The CFO leaned back in his chair and adjusted his position by kicking his leg over the arm of his executive chair. I sat there flabbergasted. I didn't know whether to laugh or keep my composure. I chose the latter of the two.
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Like a machine gun, he fired questions at me again.
I knew the drill at this point, and responded with quick answers.
At one point, he broached a subject concerning certain incentives in a contract. This was my forte, and I knew the answers like the back of my hand. I provided him with the information about these incentives. I was confident that I was providing him with accurate information.
"No, you're wrong," he stated, still seated with his leg propped over the arm of the chair.
"Yes," I argued, "the contract does state they will reimburse for mammograms."
"No," he barked as he began spinning around in his chair. "The insurance company won't reimburse for that procedure."
This back and forth went on for a good five minutes, all the while the CFO is spinning around in his chair with one leg kicked over the arm of the chair. I was getting a migraine from the stress and just blurted out,
"Well, I know our contract provides that." He stopped spinning and leaned on his desk. "Well, let me tell you something," he said, "you're right. I just wanted to see what you would say."
The interview was over, and I couldn't get out of there fast enough. I surprised myself at how fast I could run in high heels back to my car. Thankfully, they never hired me.