I Hate Me, Part 136,943

A long time ago when I was in my early twenties, I went on my first real and only job interview. It was with Northwest Orient Airlines as a baggage handler, a friend of mine who worked for them set it up for me.  Since the Northwest Orient headquarters was located near the Minneapolis-St. Paul Airport it was cheaper for them to fly job applicants out there for interviews and physicals. I was pretty psyched, I hadn’t flown much and I kind of felt like a big shot being flown out for an interview. I flew out early and was met with a company van and driven with other applicants to the airline headquarters. I took a physical and went for the interview, I was very nervous. I noticed that the guy doing the interview was named Livingston and I came up with an idea for an interview “icebreaker”. I started the interview with “Doctor Livingston, I presume?” Silence. Crickets. Tumbleweeds. No response, nothing just a dull stare. The stare of a man who had probably heard that shitty joke about a million times. The stare of a man who was in a position of power and didn’t have to listen to that type of stupid bullshit from a prospective grunt worker. The interview lasted about 15 seconds and I was unceremoniously ushered out and brought back to the airport, where my return ticket was a standby and I ended up waiting eight hours for a flight back to Newark.

  1. you can do a lot of drinking in 8 hours at an airport…

    • Klutch
    • September 17th, 2010

    Devil Dick is right. Actually, you can do a lot in a 45-minute layover if you just work your way down the terminal in chug mode.

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