The Interview

Attending interviews can be fun. Yes, it can, especially if you have no intention of joining the job and your visit is merely to check-out the company, understand what is expected from a prospective employer, and most important of all, to check who makes a bigger fool of themselves: the interviewer or the interviewee.In this case, it was the guy who interviewed me. The position of an editor in a "reputed company" that managed the content of a popular website was referred to me by a friend's friend's friend. With great expectation and excitement, I called up the company representative on his cellphone and fixed an appointment with him for the following day.My first disappointment was when I went to park my two-wheeler outside the nine-storied complex on Anna Salai that housed the office. The drainage pipes had huge craters on them, through which copious amount of water was being generously showered on two-wheelers (and their owners) that were parked below. The stink from the water was so strong, i almost felt faint by the time i ducked the artificial waterfall and managed to park my bike.I reached the second floor but was astounded that there was an office of a nationalized bank but no indication of the company that supposedly existed there. The guard of the nationalized bank lay in slumber even as flies made a unholy halo over his head. As I was about to call it quits, my eyes fell on a small dingy room filled with people who were typing away to glory on their outdated computers. A small printout of the company's logo and name stuck on the beetle nut-stained walls of the building announced that i had finally reached my destination.I fled from the scene, but was later reassured by my friends that I needed to attend the interview to decide the worth of the company rather than merely going by the outward appearance of the "office". Having regained considerable amount of composure and courage, I called up the guy and set up a date for an interview the next day.I went early and sat on a wooden bench while the mousy little attender sat on a small stool like a cat waiting to pounce on a mouse. I waited for 15 minutes but wasted little time in examining my prospective workplace.The place reminded me of a godown that had been converted into an office. A bunch of wires hung from the ceiling like trapeze ropes in a circus. The walls had been painted an ugly combination of pink and green. Worse still, were the ancient A/C units that appeared to be magically held back in place by plywood boards and wooden pegs and which threatened to fall on the people below by a mere touch of its switches.Finally our man arrived with laptop that appeared to be manufactured a few decades ago. I sat facing him as I told him about my present job profile and what my work responsibilities entailed, even as he pretended to work on his comp. My second mistake was when I asked him what was expected of me in the firm. Here's more or less how the conversation went about the job profile and my expected duties at the "office": "You know our website no, you need no to upload news all the hour no. You know, relevant news no, should go up no. As for what you need no for you to know, you should know MS Word and usage of the Template no. You will work in shifts no you know, because no we are dynamic site you no".That was it! I didn't know whether to say no or simply that i know i was in the wrong place. I thanked him for spending his valuable time in interviewing me. He promised to get back to me after consulting his head office in Bangalore. As I left the building I had made up my mind: this job vacancy was a definite no-no for me.