Gribble Thomas felt the interview had rather got away from him, though he was confident his question would recoup any lost ground.
It had started well enough. The panel of three – a grey haired elder statesman type who’d done all the talking, a second man who just stared and a woman who took notes – had seemed quite taken with his CV, which he knew was both compelling and a work of art, in the sense that all fiction was creative, after all.
His researches into the tea industry had been, in retrospect, a little superficial. The ‘what is your favourite tea?’ question hadn’t been unexpected, but the response to his prepared answer of ‘builders’ hadn’t gone down well. He’d imagined the sort of sophisticated people likely to be the interviewers to have spotted the joke immediately and to have waited for the well-timed follow up of ‘of course, Darjeeling for preference’, before sharing a conspiratorial smile. But Johnston O’Pliable, the old fart running the show had sneered, leapt in and killed the moment with ‘I meant the variety, Mr Thomas’.
And, in hindsight, he should have known replying to the question, ‘do you like silver tips?’, with, ‘more than your average werewolf,’ wasn’t going to pull back any lost ground.
But here was his chance. ‘I think that’s all our questions, Mr Thomas. Do you have any for us?’ Mr. O’Pliable smiled in that oily, insincere way that prospective employers used – at least in Gribble Thomas’ recent experience – when they were about to reject you. It was a ‘going through the motions’ smile – where ‘motions’ had the faecal meaning while the ‘going through’ part was how Gribble felt when they flushed him out of the door after another failed attempt at employment.
‘Just one.’ Gribble met the smile, and raised it with his best unctuous grin. ‘Since this is a tea business I wondered how many – and I accept this is an average – how many tea leaves there are in each tea bag?’
The smile on O’Pliable’s face slipped away, rather like it had been flushed. ‘What?’
‘I know there are different strength teas and different strength leaves, but assuming a standard breakfast teabag aimed at the nation’s first cuppa, how many—?’
O’Pliable’s complexion had moved from a milky white and was approaching a builder’s brew. ‘I heard the question. Why do you want to know?’
‘Why? Oh sorry, but I assumed that’s why you asked me if I had any questions. Up to this point it’s you who’ve being seeing if I would be suitable for the new job. But this is my chance to make sure I’d be happy with it, isn’t it? I mean, if you were just going to reject me you wouldn’t prolong this interview with some sort of sham ‘let the interviewee think he has a chance’ opportunity, would you? No, of course not.’
The second man, who up to that point had said nothing during the interview – indeed, Gribble wondered if we was awake – leant forward. ‘Course we wouldn’t. Would we Johnston?’ He received a glare for his pains.
Gribble let the previously strong silent type have a special grovelling nod of the head. ‘Quite. Obviously I just want to be sure that you are the sort of organisation that has exacting standards of quality control. To do that you must want to ensure each teabag leaves the factory capable of giving just as good a cuppa as the last one. You’ll have to test each batch of tea to make sure it is up to your requirements before the tea is refined and bagged, I imagine. To do that the same quantity of tea needs to go into each bag, doesn’t it? Which must mean you use the same number of leaves per bag. I just wondered how you worked that out?’
O’Pliable goggled Gribble. The strong silent type nodded, apparently to himself. Gribble leant back. Maybe he’d scored this time. Maybe it might make a difference. Maybe…
The woman who’d asked him about his future hopes and his previous jobs, the one who’d actually smiled and taken notes, the one who he thought he’d got on well with, the one called Margarine or something, coughed lightly. ‘Mr Thomas, is this some sort of reversal of the recent interview technique of asking candidates brain teasers, with you asking us one?’
Damn, Gribble thought. I’ve been sussed. ‘No, not at all. I—.’
‘Oh. Because that might have been very clever. If it’s not that then you might as well bugger off. I have to work with enough smart arses like these two muppets. Thank you. Please ask the next person to come in on your way out.’
This month’s #blogbattle prompt is ‘tea’
Hoist of his own petard!
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Indeed he needs a well attached petard if it’s going to have to take the strain
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Such entertainment once again Geoff. I rather like the woman of note taking persuasion. No nonsense type well capable of holding her own and seeing through said interviewee with a certain panache. That said I thought the final question reversal might have worked…maybe would have if the dynamic duo had actually been savvy about such matters, or indeed capable of an appropriate response to cut down the upstart. Clearly it works in favour of being a place where seniors of tranquil pondering might find employ and not this particular high spirited chap. Nothing wrong with interviewing the employer at all methinks…just to be sure it’s worth dallying there.
Great writing again.
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In my years of both sides of the interviewing coin i struggle to remember asking or being asked an unexpected or useful question.
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A fun description – reminds me of interviews I have sabotaged – deliberately or naively
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I wonder if you’ve blogged about these. Your back catalogue always amazes, both that you remember blogging about it and how you managed to be blogging in the 1970s
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Try this one, Geoff: https://derrickjknight.com/2013/03/28/whose-chair-is-it-anyway/
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You were braver than me. I rarely had any courage in interviews, and certainly not to ask someone to pipe down. Bravo Derrick. I like the strategic use of the tea break. More convivial than phoning a friend
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Thanks a lot, Geoff. I suppose it was courage, but it took me many years in Social Work to understand that honesty wasn’t much respected – the higher up you went the more politically devious you were expected to be.
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Every business is like that from church to crime I expect…
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Yes, indeed
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The power of women. A no-nonsense approach that wiggles all the other muppets out. I can see her becoming CEO very soon.
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Either that or she’ll become a spad
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Bloody hell there’s no winning for some is there 💜
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So true
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Serves him right really
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In a way I sort of felt badly for Gribble that he didn’t get the job … but the more I thought about it, the more I think he’s actually better off not working there! Nice turn toward the end when the woman he thought he’d made a connection with nixed those employment aspirations. It’s easy to see why he’s apparently been cycling through interviews. Maybe he could try to freelance as a comic, but somehow I don’t think that would work, either….
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I agree. I think he’s nailed on for Head of Incompetence if anyone is up for advertising the post
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Oh, this reminds me of being unemployed (thankfully, never for so long), but of those awful interviews, and especially that last, nasty question, typically lobbed at the poor applicant as he or she lets down on the way out the door. Poor Gribble. But your story makes clear, he has his own agenda. Leaves the reader wondering if he will really find a job that suits. Nice storytelling.
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If fear Gribble is a little too knowing to be easily employable. Thanks Beth.
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Highly entertaining!
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Thanks so much. Glad you enjoyed
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