Chasing the Tide
Page 20
I plastered the fakest smile I could muster on my face and slid my resume across the counter towards her. “I read in the online classifieds that you are looking to hire a receptionist. I can tell you need one.” I choked out an awkward laugh.
The frazzled woman didn’t smile. Clearly my finger taping hadn’t endeared me, nor had my lame attempts at humor.
I cleared my throat. “I was wondering if there was anyone I could speak to about the position. I just recently graduated from The College of Baltimore with a BA in English. I have years of retail experience. No direct phone skills but I’m a fast learner—“
Wilma The Drab picked up my resume and handed it back to me without looking at it. “That position has already been filled,” she responded, already turning away from me.
Her rudeness pricked at my temper. “Well, I saw that you just posted the position yesterday. So you’re saying you’ve already interviewed and hired someone?” I asked, knowing she was full of shit.
She had taken an immediate dislike to me. Not that I wasn’t familiar with that particular response from people, but I had sort of hoped that my degree would allow people to overlook my lack of a winning personality. Hey, if I was willing to overlook the fact that she was quite obviously not wearing a bra, then she shouldn’t be so quick to judge my less than awesome people skills.
Wilma of the Saggy Boobs looked at me over the rim of her glasses. “That’s exactly what I’m saying,” she answered tersely.
I clenched my teeth. I had taken a few workshops before graduation on how to conduct yourself in a professional environment. I had learned how to construct a cover letter and resume as well as how not to act during an interview.
So I knew that telling this woman where she could shove her condescending attitude wouldn’t be winning me any points.
But despite how much I’d tried to change, the old Ellie was still there.
“Ma’am, if you don’t want to hire me, just say so, don’t lie. Especially considering you don’t do it very well,” I bit out.
The secretary’s face flushed bright red. “I think you need to learn a thing or two on how to present yourself if you hope to find a job. It’s a tough economy and employers aren’t going to hire someone with a bad attitude,” she lectured.
I clenched my hands into fists and took a deep breath. I had to try this another way. I knew my patented Ellie McCallum response wouldn’t get me anywhere. If I wanted to make a life for myself here, with Flynn, I needed to put a lid on the little girl urge to throw a tantrum and smack the shit out of Ms. Preachy.
“Ma’am, I understand I may not be making the best first impression here. I apologize if I’ve come off as rude. That was not my intention. The truth is I just graduated from college. But it took me seven years to get there. You see, I’m just a small town girl trying to get her foot in the door. I’m not someone who ever thought they’d have a chance at doing anything. But there’s someone in my life that believes in me. He makes it easy to believe in myself. So I understand if you’ve honestly filled the position, then I won’t waste your time. But if you haven’t, and you’re just telling me that to get me out of your hair because my less than stellar personality has already turned you off, then I beg you to let me change your mind. Please. I just want what everyone wants. A chance.” I was breathless by the time I finished rambling.
I felt like an idiot. Even worse, I felt like a pathetic idiot.
The secretary stared at me for a long time then she held out her hand. “Is that your resume?” she asked.
I nodded and handed it to her, making sure to look completely neutral. I tried really hard to rein in the resting bitch face.
I chewed on my lip as Wilma the Super Secretary read over my resume. She took her time and I wondered whether it was for the purpose of making me squirm.
“You don’t have any administrative experience,” she commented, looking up at me after a period of time.
“No, I don’t. But I’m a quick learner. I’m a hard worker. I will give everything one-hundred percent,” I assured her, trying like hell to convince her that I didn’t totally suck.
“We’ve had a lot of applicants. I’ll be setting up interviews for next week,” Wilma commented. I nodded, not sure if I was supposed to read something into that comment or not.
Wilma scratched at a pimple in the middle of her forehead and I made an effort not to stare at it. Even if it looked like a third eye watching me.
“Would you be able to come in on Monday, say around nine-thirty for an interview?” she asked and I could have kissed her. If it weren’t for the third eye and saggy boobs, and the fact that she looked like someone’s grandma.
“Absolutely!” I enthused, trying not to sound as desperate as I actually was.
Oh fuck it. I sounded desperate. Probably because I was desperate.
“The first round of interviews is with me. If you get called back for a second interview, you will meet with Mr. Lambert and his partner Mr. Weaver. They have very exacting standards when it comes to his staff,” Wilma stated primly.
“Clearly,” I said, not meaning to sound sarcastic.
Wilma narrowed her eyes and leveled me with a stern look. I stood up a little straighter and gave her, what I hoped, was my most charming smile. I was pretty sure I looked more like a serial killer.
“Okay then, Ellie, I’ll see you on Monday,” Wilma said, tucking my resume into a file on her desk.
The frazzled woman didn’t smile. Clearly my finger taping hadn’t endeared me, nor had my lame attempts at humor.
I cleared my throat. “I was wondering if there was anyone I could speak to about the position. I just recently graduated from The College of Baltimore with a BA in English. I have years of retail experience. No direct phone skills but I’m a fast learner—“
Wilma The Drab picked up my resume and handed it back to me without looking at it. “That position has already been filled,” she responded, already turning away from me.
Her rudeness pricked at my temper. “Well, I saw that you just posted the position yesterday. So you’re saying you’ve already interviewed and hired someone?” I asked, knowing she was full of shit.
She had taken an immediate dislike to me. Not that I wasn’t familiar with that particular response from people, but I had sort of hoped that my degree would allow people to overlook my lack of a winning personality. Hey, if I was willing to overlook the fact that she was quite obviously not wearing a bra, then she shouldn’t be so quick to judge my less than awesome people skills.
Wilma of the Saggy Boobs looked at me over the rim of her glasses. “That’s exactly what I’m saying,” she answered tersely.
I clenched my teeth. I had taken a few workshops before graduation on how to conduct yourself in a professional environment. I had learned how to construct a cover letter and resume as well as how not to act during an interview.
So I knew that telling this woman where she could shove her condescending attitude wouldn’t be winning me any points.
But despite how much I’d tried to change, the old Ellie was still there.
“Ma’am, if you don’t want to hire me, just say so, don’t lie. Especially considering you don’t do it very well,” I bit out.
The secretary’s face flushed bright red. “I think you need to learn a thing or two on how to present yourself if you hope to find a job. It’s a tough economy and employers aren’t going to hire someone with a bad attitude,” she lectured.
I clenched my hands into fists and took a deep breath. I had to try this another way. I knew my patented Ellie McCallum response wouldn’t get me anywhere. If I wanted to make a life for myself here, with Flynn, I needed to put a lid on the little girl urge to throw a tantrum and smack the shit out of Ms. Preachy.
“Ma’am, I understand I may not be making the best first impression here. I apologize if I’ve come off as rude. That was not my intention. The truth is I just graduated from college. But it took me seven years to get there. You see, I’m just a small town girl trying to get her foot in the door. I’m not someone who ever thought they’d have a chance at doing anything. But there’s someone in my life that believes in me. He makes it easy to believe in myself. So I understand if you’ve honestly filled the position, then I won’t waste your time. But if you haven’t, and you’re just telling me that to get me out of your hair because my less than stellar personality has already turned you off, then I beg you to let me change your mind. Please. I just want what everyone wants. A chance.” I was breathless by the time I finished rambling.
I felt like an idiot. Even worse, I felt like a pathetic idiot.
The secretary stared at me for a long time then she held out her hand. “Is that your resume?” she asked.
I nodded and handed it to her, making sure to look completely neutral. I tried really hard to rein in the resting bitch face.
I chewed on my lip as Wilma the Super Secretary read over my resume. She took her time and I wondered whether it was for the purpose of making me squirm.
“You don’t have any administrative experience,” she commented, looking up at me after a period of time.
“No, I don’t. But I’m a quick learner. I’m a hard worker. I will give everything one-hundred percent,” I assured her, trying like hell to convince her that I didn’t totally suck.
“We’ve had a lot of applicants. I’ll be setting up interviews for next week,” Wilma commented. I nodded, not sure if I was supposed to read something into that comment or not.
Wilma scratched at a pimple in the middle of her forehead and I made an effort not to stare at it. Even if it looked like a third eye watching me.
“Would you be able to come in on Monday, say around nine-thirty for an interview?” she asked and I could have kissed her. If it weren’t for the third eye and saggy boobs, and the fact that she looked like someone’s grandma.
“Absolutely!” I enthused, trying not to sound as desperate as I actually was.
Oh fuck it. I sounded desperate. Probably because I was desperate.
“The first round of interviews is with me. If you get called back for a second interview, you will meet with Mr. Lambert and his partner Mr. Weaver. They have very exacting standards when it comes to his staff,” Wilma stated primly.
“Clearly,” I said, not meaning to sound sarcastic.
Wilma narrowed her eyes and leveled me with a stern look. I stood up a little straighter and gave her, what I hoped, was my most charming smile. I was pretty sure I looked more like a serial killer.
“Okay then, Ellie, I’ll see you on Monday,” Wilma said, tucking my resume into a file on her desk.
