Today I went for that interview above . I woke up early, got ready calmly I have not shaved, and an hour before the appointment abundant (in Milan) The Maddy has gone from my house and left. The Navigator (an incurable optimist) foresaw the arrival of a half-hour, but as soon as I arrived just in time. In a bad mood, among other things, why go in the car with the rain is one of the things I most hate.
Beyond the traffic on the way it should be pointed a little episode: a few kilometers from the arrival, I feel an irresistible impulse itchy forehead. I scratch and I come off a little scab right between the eyes, a bit 'above. I lose a liter of blood, a tissue transformed into a work of Pollock, and-few-minutes later I find myself with a red dot on his forehead that look like an Indian woman with tilaka .
The conditions are good. We arrived, parked, and we are sure this building to all nice and clean again. So new that came to the porter, a man in uniform tells us that the building is empty, still under construction. To which we move about thirty yards away and finally we come to the right place.
Arrived porter in a Asian lady of about fifty seizes me the identity card, sends Maddy into a corner of preventing it from entering, and handed me a badge magnetic which exceed the turnstiles.
I climb in the elevator , I press the button that says (10) but then in general go down to the stunning second floor. Look again and finally I reach the office of G ******, ******* And this lady in my mind is a little old woman with a 'beard and a flannel skirt. Instead I enter this office and I accept this cunt here, that in a few estimates have twenty-six / twenty-seven.
E 'already The second time (out of two experiences) that I find particularly nice sorting. When ever single return, I will spend my days doing interviews around the world. In any event, then this will tell me to have thirty-one years.
I am a bit 'of questions, all trivial, as you see yourself in five years, trying to convince me to take you, tell of your work experience and crap like that. Then he takes me down by two men known as "the -managers" (where the reads the ), which makes me a bit 'more technical questions, trying to figure out if I have some vague idea of \u200b\u200bwhat both the finance and what are the banks, etc..
One of them, detailing all prissy and falls in love with me. The other, Southern and tragic speech defects, is much more skeptical. The first one even asks me what kind of career I want to do, that is, which area of \u200b\u200bthe management vacuum, and if the marks on my cv. The other, however, continues to ask me if I would be interested to become a computer programmer, I keep telling myself that no, I do not care, and he keeps telling me that it is important to learn to program and continues to wonder if you really have never had an experience of programming, if I do not like, if you really do not know ... I mean
. I go out a bit 'try, after a total of about un'ora e mezzo di colloqui. Io mi sono giocato le mie carte come se quello fosse il posto della mia vita. Loro hanno detto chiaramente di aver bisogno di un bel po' di persone. Ho l'impressione che tra qualche giorno mi chiameranno. Alla fine, non ho ancora capito se sono interessato o no. Probabilmente no.
In ogni caso, vi farò sapere.
P.s.: come qualcuno avrà notato, i miei post hanno sempre il titolo in maiuscolo, mentre quelli della Maddy hanno il titolo in minuscolo. Però mi sono un po' stufato di questa abitudine, quindi questo potrebbe essere l'ultimo mio intervento con il titolo in maiuscolo: immagino che However now you have learned to recognize. Or at least to look below left where it says the author;)
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