At least in stand-up, some of the audience is drunk.

Dear People-Who-Just-Interviewed-Me-This-Afternoon,

You weren’t the only ones taking notes.

Don’t for a minute think that I didn’t notice that all three of you were clearly miserable.   You looked like a trio of undertakers cremating a bus full of 6-year-old girls who perished on their way to audition for Annie! at the Senior Center.  Butterscotch candies and iPods all over the freeway.  Actually, I think you probably looked more miserable than undertakers would since I believe undertakers are professionals who are able to put that sort of tragedy behind them and get on with their work. Unlike you lot.  Thanks for really making me want to work there.

I also noticed that none of you, not even the supervisor, had bothered to read my resume or application. What sort of shoddy, fly-by-night operation are you running, anyway?  I am obviously not qualified for this job, and I am frankly disappointed that you wasted my time, and yours, on this interview.   We might have been able to gloss over the fact that you hadn’t read my resume, except that your very first question was, “What is your experience with payroll?”  Well, leave it to you lot of blundering wildebeests to start on a sore point! I have no experience with payroll, thank you very much. I mean, I have filled out my own timesheets, and I have seen a paycheck before, but that’s about the extent of  it.  Really, this was all right there in black and white had you bothered to make the slightest effort.

And then you compounded the problem with your supremely ill-mannered follow-up question, “Why do you want to work for the payroll department.”  Now really, what am I supposed to say to that, since I have just admitted that I have no knowledge of  payroll?  Perhaps I was supposed to say, “Well, I’ve always loved payroll, but just somehow managed to completely avoid it my entire life up until now.”  Or maybe I was supposed to reveal that my secret desire is to infiltrate your organization and with my complete lack of knowledge about what I am supposed to do, bring it crumbling to the ground?  You left me no choice but to tell the truth, as graceless as it was:  “This building is a lot closer to my home than the job I have now.”  There. Happy now?  The romance is gone.

And still! Even after that bombshell, you continued on with the tortuous façade of an interview, asking question after ludicrous question about my experience and knowledge of payroll:  What are the strengths and weakness of my experience with payroll? Would I benefit from training in payroll? How would I solve the following scenario regarding a problem with somebody’s payroll? Would I be willing to teach a class in payroll? What are my plans in five years regarding payroll? If I could be any sort of payroll, what kind of payroll would I be?  Really, couldn’t you have just given up on the bloody payroll idea, and instead we could have just had a nice chat about the weather or croissants or something?  

For the record, because I am a person of good breeding, I answered your insulting and graceless questions as best I could:

Weaknesses? I don’t know anything about payroll. Strengths? I don’t know anything about payroll!

Would I benefit from training in payroll?  By all means, yes!  I would probably benefit from training in payroll more than anyone else you’ve interviewed today. Unless of course you didn’t read anybody’s resume, and therefore you have had in your offices today a literal parade of lion tamers, acrobats, truck drivers and firemen, none of whom know anything about payroll, but some of whom may at least be qualified to work in this one ring circus you’ve got going here. 

How would you solve the following scenario regarding a problem with somebody’s payroll?  Well, I would listen very carefully to this person’s problem and then I would write it all down and then I would go find someone who knows something about payroll and ask them.

I would love to teach a class in payroll! And the students would love it too, because instead of teaching them about payroll, which is boring, I would be teaching them about race car driving, which is much more interesting, and also, as it happens, a topic I know more about than payroll.

In five years I plan to know much more about payroll. Unless I don’t get this job, in which case, despite my life-long ambition to know all about payroll, I may still remain, regretfully, completely ignorant about it.

If I could be any kind of payroll, I would be a bi-weekly payroll, because they can get twice as many dates as the mono-weekly payrolls.

And finally, I just wanted to add, that I was not impressed with the way you  lot answered my questions, especially the ones about why you are so “short-handed” exactly. I saw the nervous glances and the hemming and hawing about “budget issues” and “sudden growth” and “some people left unexpectedly.” I know what that means. The big boss wants your department out and has refused to give you money to hire and,  because I would imagine that everything in that mad house runs about as smoothly as this interview did, people are quitting.  Or getting fired. But it won’t be me, because I wouldn’t work in this third-rate sideshow if you paid me, and frankly, I doubt if you could!