The High Road
Dimanche 8 juin 2008 à 04 h 55
The High Road (from Alasdhair). From The Daily WTF.
Many years back, I was a hot-shot contract developer in my early twenties, looking for a new gig in London. I was called to an interview at company that built hotel management software and, since I already knew a great deal about hotel software, it seemed like a great fit.
The interviewer was blonde, in her late 20's, and had an impressive bust that was barely constrained by her buttoned blouse. She'd clearly put on a few pounds, but hadn't admitted it to the extent of buying newer clothes. As a guy in your early 20's, you tend to notice that kind of thing.
The interview was progressing pretty normally when, all of a sudden, one of her buttons came undone. I forced myself to focus on her questions and, for a short while, answered them impeccably. And then a second button came undone. That completely threw me off and my mind raced about, trying to figure out what to do.
Should I tell her? She'd probably be a little embarrassed, but certainly she'd appreciate the heads up. And at the very least, she'd not have to go through an entire interview unbuttoned.
Should I ignore it? At some point, she'd realize that her blouse came undone, and would think that I was a pervert for not telling her.
Both options put the contract at risk, but clearly, the high road was letting her know. I cleared my throat and subtly gestured towards her chest. She looked at me strangely for a moment, and then looked down. Instantaneously, she clutched her blouse, blushed red, and fled the room.
As I sat alone in the conference room for the next few minutes, I wondered if there was a third option that I didn't consider. Eventually, the interviewer came back, but this time, she was wearing a sweater on top of her blouse. Without even sitting down, she told me that the interview was over and that they had all they needed to know. And although I didn't get the job, I did learn a valuable lesson: just ignore it next time.
Many years back, I was a hot-shot contract developer in my early twenties, looking for a new gig in London. I was called to an interview at company that built hotel management software and, since I already knew a great deal about hotel software, it seemed like a great fit.
The interviewer was blonde, in her late 20's, and had an impressive bust that was barely constrained by her buttoned blouse. She'd clearly put on a few pounds, but hadn't admitted it to the extent of buying newer clothes. As a guy in your early 20's, you tend to notice that kind of thing.
The interview was progressing pretty normally when, all of a sudden, one of her buttons came undone. I forced myself to focus on her questions and, for a short while, answered them impeccably. And then a second button came undone. That completely threw me off and my mind raced about, trying to figure out what to do.
Should I tell her? She'd probably be a little embarrassed, but certainly she'd appreciate the heads up. And at the very least, she'd not have to go through an entire interview unbuttoned.
Should I ignore it? At some point, she'd realize that her blouse came undone, and would think that I was a pervert for not telling her.
Both options put the contract at risk, but clearly, the high road was letting her know. I cleared my throat and subtly gestured towards her chest. She looked at me strangely for a moment, and then looked down. Instantaneously, she clutched her blouse, blushed red, and fled the room.
As I sat alone in the conference room for the next few minutes, I wondered if there was a third option that I didn't consider. Eventually, the interviewer came back, but this time, she was wearing a sweater on top of her blouse. Without even sitting down, she told me that the interview was over and that they had all they needed to know. And although I didn't get the job, I did learn a valuable lesson: just ignore it next time.