Lookin’ Fly

One of the many perks of being a co-op student is the opportunity to suit up every once in a while and look like a million bucks on the outside; all the while, crumbling like a stale donut on the inside. Co-op makes you nuts, but there are moments after you suit up when you think to yourself, “Damn, today you look like a pro.”

Although over-thinking is involved in the pre-interview process, (i.e. how to get to the office? Which bus route is fastest? How do you spell this dude’s name?) there are always things you never consider until the morning of. Things such as:
“Are these dress socks black or navy? If these are navy they don’t match and now I’m gonna look like a moron. Awesome.”

And inevitably, after spending more time and hairspray than normal to ensure you look nothing like Mickey Rourke, it is always a windy day.

FACT: interview days are the windiest.

I had to walk quite a distance to get to the office from the bus stop and it was a significantly breezy spring day. By significantly breezy, I mean it was so windy I felt like I was in the movie Twister and was imagining that any moment a cow was going to fly by.

After signing in early at the reception desk in the shiny glass lobby I headed to the washroom to freshen up from my walk through the windy parking lot. A few deep breaths and a panic attack later, I headed back to the lobby where my interviewer had just come out to get me.

I was led to a lounge where we discussed the job description and qualifications. The interview was going well and the interviewer (let’s call her Janet) was all smiles, nods, and laughs. She seemed pleased with my past experience, but after about 20 minutes the little voice in the back of my head started to sabotage the interview.

You know the one, the interior narrative that goes on in your head and freaks you out while your outside voice is yapping away about your skill set and volunteer experience. It went something like this:

Janet: Well the successful candidate would be performing various tasks including…blah blah blah

Little voice in head: “oh crap, what is this lady’s name again?”

Me: Yes, I’m glad that the position involves so much creative freedom.

Little voice in head: just don’t say her name when you say goodbye, it won’t matter...Why isn’t she wearing a name tag, argh! Oh great, that sock IS navy…way to go genius.”

Me: I think the job aligns nicely with my core competencies.

And that’s when things got weird…
Janet (squinting): ummm, could you do me a favour?
Me: uh, sure.
Janet (motioning with her hands): could you just flick your hair like this (she began demonstrating).
I brushed my hair with my hand, confused.
Janet: yeah…okay, if you could just do that again, this time a little more forcefully…

At this point I am flicking my hair around and getting that terrible feeling that suggests something embarrassing is about to happen.

I hear her mumble something like, “I think you’ve got a fly or something in your…” and I am truly beyond mortified when she rises out of her chair to brush away whatever it is she sees out of my hair.

“You had a fly in your hair,” she said with a laugh.

Little voice in head: OH MY GOD!!!!!! IT’S OVER! IT IS TOTALLY OVER! A FLY? WHAT THE WHAT?”

Me: oh my - - that’s super embarrassing…wow. I’m…I’m really, sorry about that. It was ultra-windy outside and I walked here and now I’m…yep. Shut it down”. *insert nervous laugh*

(I mean really, what the heck do you say?!)

Janet laughed and told me not to worry about it. Despite myself, I did laugh. I mean, come on, who does that? In the history of interviews I’m sure there have been some weird ones, but a random fly in your hair that the interviewer flicks out for you? Unbelievable.

The interview went on and, oddly enough, I left the office feeling pretty good about my answers and terrible about the horrifying moment. But, it was now out of my hands. It was over. She either liked me or didn’t, but it was done and life could go back to normal-sauce now.

A few days later I received notice that Janet wanted to hire me. Let’s face it - must have been the suit.