Thank you for taking the time today to meet with me about the Office Manager/Girl Friday position at Whizzo Design. It was great to speak with you and get a solid overview of the position, what it entails, and what you’re looking for in a minion. Thank you for the Otter Pop too. That was nice of you. If we ever hire an intern at my food blog, DeliciousDish, I’m going to give them Otter Pops when they arrive (only the Alexander the Grape ones, because I don’t really like grape), then point to the foosball table in the garage and tell them we don’t really have any questions for them, but their entire food blogging future rides on this match. No pressure though. Then if they somehow manage to beat me I will tell them they’re hired and go wash my dirty breakfast dishes please. I can’t wait to hire an intern.
I’m at home now doing the requisite “shoulda, woulda, coulda, can’t believe I actually said that” post-interview self-flagellation routine, and although I think we covered most bases fairly well this afternoon I’m just feeling repentant for not having a show-stopping, or at least semi-competent, reply to the “What do you know about Whizzo?” question. I hate that question because all you really know about a company you’ve never worked for before is what you can dig up on Google/the website, or maybe if you know someone who works/ed there they can offer helpful information, like, “you get to leave early on Fridays,” or ”the VP is a total wanker,” or “if you don’t make the coffee just right they take you out back and push you onto the train tracks.” It’s hard to really know about a company until I’ve experienced it. I did ask a friend at Weiden & Kennedy what he knew about Whizzo and he grunted, “It’s a nice little shop.” He’s a fellow of few words, so I thought that was heartening. I suppose in hindsight I would have said that I like that your nice little shop does serious, diverse and respected work (and lots of local work) in what I can tell is a creatively challenging and fun environment. I never ask enough questions at interviews because I’m always too distracted trying to read the interviewers, since if I like them and how they think and listen and joke, I’ll likely enjoy working there. I thought you were all great, and quite funny. And smart. And pretty. And, um, let’s see...and nice. And sweet. Did I say smart already? I feel that I’d fit in well at Whizzo as your Office Manager and could bring a lot to the table, namely intriguing new foodeatingscapades ideas and a deep commitment to turning the bowling-alley-like hallway into an actual bowling alley. How neat would that be? I also am peerless at organizing supplies, making people who call feel like I’m glad they did, and I might be useful at lending a hand writing for some of the 20 projects you are juggling. At the very least I promise I will periodically write entertaining e-mails to the rest of the office, probably instead of something I’m supposed to be doing, like scrubbing the grout in the kitchen or fetching Bill some knee-high socks, the kind with the red stripes.
Well, that’s about it. After meeting and speaking with you, I’d love to work with you, and I think you’d surely enjoy having me around the office. I’m organized, efficient, friendly, have a pleasant—if slightly high-pitched—phone voice, and I am willing to darn Bill’s torn shirt if necessary. Maybe. I don’t know. I’ll have to think about that one. Armpit holes are tricky. Maybe you should just use duct tape.
I hope that wasn’t too long for you Bill, I know you thought my cover letter was lengthy, I guess it’s the novelist in me, and Alan, I hope you found your glasses so you could read this thank you. Cassandra, thanks for being so friendly and helpful, and it was great to meet a fellow Central Californian. I hope you all have a splendid holiday weekend. I have already uncorked my Friday bottle of Prosecco, so I’m on my way.
Thank you again,
Audrey Cairo, 2 pm Friday interviewee, you know, the one who ate Alan’s Otter Pop and doesn’t clean bathrooms.