I had an interview for a part time professional job a few weeks ago at a local academic research institute. I did well on 3 of the interviews; the 4Th turned out to be the proverbial interview from hell. It was one of the most uncomfortable hours of my adult life, being grilled by a potential colleague who believed that the successful candidate should have a PhD in Statistics or, at very least, to understand how to use those Excel spreadsheet stat functions that I never learned. I was given a piece of paper and asked to plot the curve of some data that were in an array. It was like an SAT exam question. I drew a happy face, hoping I could charm my way out of this sticky situation. She was not impressed. It was clear from her icy demeanor and Gitmo style interrogation methods that I was NOT what she was looking for. I am not exaggerating - I was actually water-boarded - and my copy of the "Statistics 101 for Dummies" was flushed down a toilet!
I'm sure she gave me a big fat F. I did not get an offer.
The good news is: I will not have the prospect of daily contact with a hostile, nitpicking micromanaging colleague to make my life miserable. Not to mention, parking would have been a nightmare. (I racked-up $33 in parking costs on my three visits, not to mention the probable brain damage during the statistics torture session.)
The experience has reminded me that life is short; and maybe a guy who has spent more than 30 years writing business requirements, specifying data conversions, designing reports and worrying about data integrity - maybe this guy should go sit on a beach and stop trying to get a real job.
3 comments:
Did she have big cazoobies?
Is that some arcane statistical slang? Or are you referring to an anatomical feature. For the record, I did not notice.
sounds like sucky people to work with. life's too short...
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