The Interview - 1. The Interview

The Interview

He fidgeted with his tie, nervously, glancing toward the door every so often. This was it. The big interview. He’d been in his current position for five years now, twice as long as anyone else in the department, and it was time for him to move up. He knew his role like the back of his hand. Hell, he was basically already manager. His actual boss, Tom, was about as knowledgeable as a kitchen tile. He loved Tom as a person, but as a supervisor he was almost worthless.

Despite knowing he was ideal for the job, it didn’t prevent his nerves from getting the best of him. He assumed this happened to everyone before an interview. But hey, a little bit of nerves shows them that you really care, right?

He could feel himself start to bounce his leg up and down; another nervous tick. He forced himself to stop. The tie-fiddling was enough. He really needed to rein it in, here.

Before he could give it a second thought, the door swung open. Colleen, one of the few people on his team that actually performed her duties sufficiently, exited the office. She shot him an encouraging smile and a thumbs up as she walked by. He returned the smile and nodded at her. While he got along with her famously, and even considered her a friend outside of work, he knew she wasn’t right for the position.

Taking a deep breath, he tried to shake the rest of the nerves. He knew he was next and didn’t want to hand over his résumé with sweat spots all over it. Sure enough, the big boss called him in. “Mr. Fletcher, come on in.”

He stood up and entered the office, shutting the door behind him. “Mr. Teague,” he greeted, offering his hand. They shook, and Teague motioned for him to sit.

“Let me have a look at your résumé.” As he handed it over, he was relieved to see that no moistness from his hands had transferred to the paper. While Teague scanned the page, he glanced around the office. Carter Teague had been with the company for close to thirty years, moving his way up in the ranks early on in his career. The office showcased it; a large bookcase behind his desk was filled with various trophies and awards, and numerous certificates lined the walls.

“Alright Jeff, nice looking stuff you’ve got here. I know you’ve been out there on Tom’s team for a while now. Tell me about some of the things you’ve done that make you feel you’re right for the new management spot.” Teague leaned back in his chair, ever-so-slightly. Jeff assumed it was a power move, but he tried not to let it faze him. He cleared his throat.

“Yes, sir. I’ve been with the company for seven years, the first two of which I was in the Client Relations department and the last five in Data Analysis. When I was with Client Relations, I worked in Diane Allen’s group and helped develop a file tracking system that was utilized department-wide. I ended up working on a few projects directly with Diane and she recommended I transition to Data Analysis based on my skillset.

“Working with Tom, I’ve gotten involved in additional special projects. I’ve stood in for him on several occasions when he’s been out of office, as well. I know all of the ins and outs of the department. I’ve got a great rapport with all of the other associates, and they often utilize me as a point-of-contact when they have procedural questions. I see myself as someone who has great potential in a management position, and I believe the current opening in Data Analysis is a perfect fit.”

Teague nodded, eyeballing the résumé again. He had barely made eye contact while Jeff had been speaking; then again, Carter Teague was not known to be an overly warm individual. “I’ve heard good things about you around the building. Everything looks pretty good on paper, too.”

“Thank you very much, sir.”

Standing up, Teague offered his hand again. “Thanks for coming in. You should hear back by the end of the week.”

The abruptness of it all caught Jeff off guard. He joined Teague standing, and reached out to accept his handshake. “Thank you.”

As Jeff walked awkwardly out of the office and to the elevator, he tried to piece together what had just happened. Was his spiel that bad? Sure, he felt like it might have been a tad bit stiff, but it wasn’t robotic or lackluster. There were no follow-up questions. He had never experienced that in an interview before. Nor had he been denied the opportunity to ask his own questions; he had a handful at the ready. And, he knew that many interviewers used the interviewee’s ability to ask solid questions as a reasonably significant factor in the decision-making process.

Once back on his floor, he stopped at Colleen’s desk on the way back to his own. “How did it go?” she asked enthusiastically. She was always rather animated and positive, which was normally a good quality. However, it currently irked the shit out of him.

“Awful! He looked at my résumé for like thirty seconds and then asked me why I thought I was a good fit for the position. That was it! He didn’t ask me anything else, or give me a chance to ask any questions. He just told me I’d hear back by the end of the week.” Jeff loosened his tie and undid the top button, annoyed by the restriction.

Colleen put her hand on his shoulder. “That’s basically how mine went. Although he probably didn’t even spend half that amount of time reviewing mine. I was in his office for maybe three minutes. That’s just how Mr. Teague does his interviews, Jeff. I guess it’s pretty common knowledge.”

Her words quelled his irritation slightly, but he still wasn’t thrilled about the interaction he’d had with him. It seemed extremely unprofessional. Interviews should last at least half an hour. How would anyone be able to gather enough information about an applicant without at least that much time? Unless….

“Unless it’s one of those situations where they already have someone in mind, and they’re just holding interviews as a technicality.” That thought pissed him off more.

Removing her hand from his shoulder, Colleen shrugged. “I mean, I guess that’s a possibility. But from what I hear, he has always done his interviews like that since he’s been a higher-up. Apparently he bases a lot of it on first impressions and he asks the person’s manager for the rest. If that’s the case, you’re golden. Tom loves you.”

“I guess we’ll see what happens,” Jeff mumbled, trudging back to his own desk. He knew he was being a little brusque with Colleen when she was only trying to lift his spirits. She didn’t deserve that. But he was grumpy, and everyone acts a tad selfish when they’re grumpy. Or at least he tried to use that thought to justify his actions.

He fell into his chair, knowing he wouldn’t be able to focus for the rest of the day. Thankfully it was Wednesday, and he would have his answer within the next two days.

“Relax,” Tom said, taking a swig from his beer. Technically speaking, the two of them weren’t supposed to mingle socially outside of work. It could be construed as favoritism, or some other bullshit reasoning that Human Resources outlined in the employee handbook. But Tom had recognized that Jeff was tense after the interview and offered to buy him a drink after work. And Jeff felt he could definitely use one; plus, he never turned down a free drink.

“I’m trying to, Tom, but it’s just frustrating. I feel gypped. All that preparation for nothing.” He took a large swallow of his own drink, a vodka tonic. He cringed. The bartender had used a flavored vodka. How annoying. Even little things caused aggravation on an already bad day.

Tom nodded. “Yeah, I get it. But Colleen was right. He really does do all of his interviews like that. He does it all really fast. Quick interviews, quick responses. He did my interview like that, and I got the promotion.”

It seemed odd to Jeff, though, that someone in a position at that level would have such crappy people skills. In any event, Tom’s confirmation of Colleen’s information did finally start to settle him down. The drink, disgusting as it may be, didn’t hurt either.

“Listen, you’re going to be fine. He’ll ask the managers about the candidates tomorrow, and you know I’ll put in a good word for you. It’ll suck losing you on the team. You do a lot for us. But you deserve this job. He’ll see that, especially after I talk to him.”

At that point Jeff knew there was no point in discussing the topic further. There would have been no reason for Tom to lie to him, and definitely no need to bring him out for a drink, had he not felt the situation truly would work itself out. Instead, he finished his drink – breath held to mask the flavor – and joined Tom in talking about other subjects.

He would be fine. He would get the job.

He kept telling himself that.

“Alex Jessup!” Jeff said incredulously, trying to keep his voice down but with limited success. It was Friday afternoon, and Tom had just pulled him aside to relay the results of the selection process.

“Keep your voice down,” Tom said, glancing around the breakroom to ensure nobody else was within earshot. “It hasn’t been officially announced yet. They haven’t even told Alex. I just wanted the news to come from me, and I wanted to tell you away from everyone else. I didn’t think you hearing this news in a group of your peers would go over very well. And I was probably right.” He eyeballed Jeff as he leaned up against the wall, face reddening and hands almost humorously clenched into fists.

Jeff knew he was reacting rather erratically, and took a deep breath to calm himself. He unclenched his fists and brought his voice back down. Regardless of how angry he was, he would be a jerk if he got Tom in trouble for discussing this. “Alex Jessup! That guy is far from qualified! He’s only been with the company for a year and he isn’t even in Data Analysis! How in the hell do they think he’s a good choice to run a team in that department?”

“I guess he’s got some good experience from a previous company,” Tom said.

“Oh, I hate that excuse,” Jeff spat. He was not angry with Tom, but unfortunately Tom was the messenger and was the one getting exposed to his more juvenile side. “I’m sure his experiences with a different company where they did things differently and used different systems, I’m sure all of that is a much better fit.”

It was clear that Tom knew at this point it would be better just to let Jeff get it out. As such, he let him vent. He maintained guard of the room to be certain nobody entered and just let Jeff rant. Eventually, when he had begun to calm down, Tom spoke again. “I absolutely, one hundred percent agree with you. That Jessup kid’s a joke. I am going to talk to Teague later on and see if I might get more details on the decision.”

By that point, Jeff felt composed enough to return to his desk. He kept his face glued to his computer, not actually being able to focus on work but hoping that if he looked concentrated enough, nobody would bother him. He couldn’t handle making small talk.

Once four o’clock rolled around, Tom approached his desk. He knew what it was about. The company had a policy in which the applicant’s direct manager would talk to them one-on-one to advise them of the decision of the interview. An email would have been more tactful, but the company felt this method made it more personal. It certainly would be a more personal touch for the person who landed the job. However, it was also a rather humiliating way to learn of a denied position, because there was the potential of other nearby employees overhearing it. There were lots of things the company was mistaken about, it seemed.

“You know I’m just here as a formality,” Tom said in a hushed tone, so those at the adjacent desks wouldn’t hear him. At least Tom had some diplomacy. “But I have to make it appear I’m talking to you about it regardless, so it won’t raise eyebrows with anybody that knows you interviewed.”

Jeff nodded, and Tom made his way over to Colleen’s desk. He watched her nod, clearly disappointed. Then he saw her brow furrow and jaw drop just slightly. That would be the point where he revealed to her who landed the job. At least he wasn’t the only one who smelled a skunk.

That day after work found Jeff once again at the bar, at the same table, with the same drink in his hand. Sans the flavored vodka, thankfully. This time, though, he was joined by Colleen. The annoyance that spewed out of her mouth as he sat across the table, watching her, made him feel a sense of déjà vu.

“What in the actual fuck?” she grumbled.

“I know.”

“No, but like what in the actual fuck?” she repeated, peeling the label from her beer bottle. She stared at it while doing so, as if it was the most complex thing she had ever done. “Alex is so not qualified. You know, I’m not really either. I just wanted to get my name out there so I’m on the radar for future positions that come up. But he is really not qualified.”

The conversation went on like that for a while, Colleen listing off ways Alex wasn’t qualified, and Jeff tossing in his agreeance. It was kind of nice, he had to admit, listening to someone else vent about the situation.

“And you,” she was saying, “you’ve spent the majority of your time in the department gearing up for that job.” They were each on their fourth drink, now, and it was evident Colleen was a bit of a lightweight. But so was Jeff.

And whether or not it was the alcohol talking, he wasn’t sure, but Colleen’s use of the work “majority” struck something in him. “Wait – do you think that could have anything to do with it?”

“What?” she asked.

Feeling the buzz, he hesitated. It was a heavy claim, so if he was wrong…. But he wasn’t bringing this up to HR, or anything. It was amongst friends. There was no harm in bringing up his theory to Colleen. “What if it’s a minority thing?”

She looked at him with a slightly quizzical expression until his words finally sank in. She shook her head. “No way. It can’t be. You mean because—”

He cut her off. “Because you’re Latina and I’m gay.”

She stared at him. “Well, I was going to say because I’m a woman. But, sure, why not, we can go with yours. But seriously, Jeff, that’s a bit of a jump, don’t you think? It’s a pretty steep accusation.”

And it was. He knew that. He had no evidence that there was any kind of discrimination at play. But if there was, it would certainly explain why he was overlooked in favor of Alex Jessup.

Tom knocked on Teague’s door, which was ajar. Teague beckoned him to come inside, and he did so. “Hey, Carter, got a minute?”

Teague was shoving folders and loose papers into his briefcase, checking drawers and scanning his desk for things he might have missed. It was five, and it was clear Teague wasn’t planning on spending any extra hours in the office. “What’s up Tom? Make it quick.”

“I wanted to talk to you about Jeff Fletcher. I know we discussed his qualifications yesterday, but I was just curious if you could give me some insight on why he wasn’t selected. Maybe it’s something I can work on with him.”

Standing, Teague sighed. “I just didn’t think he was right for the job, Tom. Let’s just leave it at that.” He snapped the briefcase closed, grabbed the handle, and made to walk out of the office.

Tom stepped back, blocking the door. “Can you just take a few minutes to discuss it, Carter? I have a lot of faith in the kid’s abilities. His success in this company is important to me. If there’s something that you feel is missing from his repertoire, I’d like to help him develop those skills.”

Teague stopped where he was. He sighed again and returned the briefcase to his desk. He took his glasses off and massaged the bridge of his nose. “He’s talented. There’s no doubt about that. But I think he’s at the right level for what he does. He’s rather… feminine. We need someone in a management position to be respected by their team. I don’t think employees would take him seriously enough.”

“What?” Tom asked. He knew he had it clearly, but it didn’t mean he could believe those words just came out of someone’s mouth.

“If he were more straight-acting, he would have been the obvious choice. Alex Jessup fits the bill. He’s got room for growth and he’s a reputable nature about him. Sorry, Tom. It’s nothing personal. It’s business.”

“Nothing personal? Are you fucking kidding me, Carter?” Tom blurted, feeling the heat under his collar. He knew the language wouldn’t help, but at this point he didn’t care.

“I have no problem with gays. I have a gay nephew. But it’s a business decision, it’s not based on what I am or am not comfortable with.” It was getting more ridiculous the more Teague said. It was stereotypical to a fault. Tom had worked with him for somewhere around twelve years and had never known him to be so bigoted.

“What you’re comfortable with? There shouldn’t be an issue with comfort. This is about acceptance. Being a decent human being. You’re saying you don’t feel that this guy, who is perfect for this position, is a good fit because you don’t think he’s masculine enough?”

Teague snatched his briefcase once more and held up his hand. “That’s enough, Tom.” He bypassed Tom and walked down the hallway toward the elevators. Tom stood there, unmoving, almost literally glued to the floor. He was shocked.

What a prick.

Monday morning, Jeff dreaded going into work. He toyed with the idea of using a sick day, but he knew it would just be delaying the inevitable. He would have to go back eventually. And either way he’d still be without the promotion. So begrudgingly, he got out of bed and into the shower.

He followed his normal routine, though it was much more sluggish than normal. Eating an over-burnt piece of toast, drinking his coffee with two spoonfuls of sugar and no milk, brushing his teeth. Deciding between the argyle green tie and the solid blue one. Feeding the fish. While it was all at a far slower pace than he normally did all of these things, he still did them. He had to remind himself that the world still went ’round.

When he finally got to work, twenty minutes late but unconcerned with it, he stalked to his desk without acknowledging anyone. He slugged off his jacket, tossing it haphazardly across the far side of his desk. When he finally logged into his computer, he had an email. From HR.

His disinterest was swiftly replaced with anxiety. Emails from HR were generally not a good thing. Had someone seen him out with Tom and complained? He didn’t know what else it could be. Hesitantly, he double-clicked the email and scanned the message.

From: Human Resources
To: Fletcher, Jeffrey
CC: Ciccone, Thomas
Subject: Meeting Requested

Dear Mr. Fletcher,

Your presence is requested in a meeting with the Human Resources Department, this Monday at 8:30am. If this scheduled time does not work for you, please contact Heather Aaronson at your earliest convenience.

Thank you,
Heather Aaronson
VP, Human Resources Director

He glanced at the time in the corner of his monitor, showing that he had five minutes until the meeting. As was standard with HR, the message was vague. He shifted his gaze toward Tom’s desk. Tom winked at him and went back to work. What was going on?

Considering an HR meeting was probably not something to run late for, he immediately popped back out of his chair and meandered down the hallways until he reached the Human Resources Department. A young brunette woman sat at the desk before him, and she looked up as he approached.

“Um, hi. I have a meeting at 8:30,” he said sheepishly. He felt awkward being beckoned for a meeting that he wasn’t aware of the purpose.

She clicked the mouse a few times and hit a few keys on the keyboard before nodding. “Jeffrey Fletcher?” He nodded and she typed something else. She appeared to read something on the monitor and continued. “Go on in. It’s the office in the middle.”

“Thank you,” he said, and stepped up toward the middlemost of the three doors behind the receptionist. He knocked gently.

A muffled voice came from the other side. “Come on it.”

He opened the door cautiously, curiously, and stepped in. Two people sat inside; a blonde woman behind the desk, and a dark-haired man in one of the chairs against the wall. Both smiled, rehearsed and stiff, yet somehow comforting enough to ease Jeff’s mind a bit. “Mr. Fletcher, thanks for meeting with us on such short notice. Please, take a seat.”

He sat in the chair next to the man, unsure if he should speak or wait for the woman to add more. He decided to stick with the latter, and as he settled into his seat, she resumed.

“My name is Heather Aaronson, the Vice President of the Human Resources Department. I’ve asked Mr. Denton here to join us as a witness.” Upon her use of that last word, he began to get anxious, which she seemed to notice and expect. “You’re not in any kind of trouble, don’t worry. It’s just common practice within Human Resources just to ensure no misunderstandings arise. Mr. Denton is a fellow Human Resources representative.”

“Okay,” he said, still nervous.

“While I can’t go into detail, recent information has come to our attention regarding a potential discrimination event. Upon researching the claim, it was substantiated and immediate action was taken. We do not accept any kind of discrimination, and we wanted to bring you in today to let you know that we have made the necessary staffing changes based on the results of our investigation.”

His head was swimming. There was an HR claim? Was it about Teague? Was his assumption about the reason for not getting the job correct? He didn’t go to HR, so who had? Colleen, Tom? Someone else? How did they conduct the research so quickly? Were they even allowed to tell him this? With so many questions filling his head, he felt physically dizzy. He settled on: “What does this mean?”

Aaronson folded her hands atop her desk. “Again, I’m afraid I can’t give you too much information. This type of thing is kept very confidential, for obvious reasons. However, since it was determined that you were treated unfairly and inappropriately, we felt it best to bring you in.”

So he had been cheated out of the position. It was Teague, that son of a bitch! What did he even do at this point? Did he file a complaint against the company? It didn’t seem like the right thing to do, considering they acted so fast and axed the man. The company couldn’t control the opinions and actions of a bigot, but they sure could fire him. Which they did.

Before he could really debate that subject, though, Aaronson spoke up again. “In what may be a very coincidental bit of timing, we also received another submission to Human Resources regarding you. This other submission was received by Staffing. It seems that once you were declined the management position in Data Analysis, another group immediately put in a bid to request your promotion to the management in their area.”

So many things were happening. “What?”

Aaronson nodded. “Diane Allen requested you personally.”

“In Client Relations?”

“Diane actually transitioned into the Information Research Department a few months ago. As it’s still a developing department, the upper management has been granted the ability to fill their supervisory positions outright versus holding interviews, based on proven performance in their current role and 30-day performance reviews for the first six months.”

The last week had been a whirlwind, and it was a whole new storm today. Did he accept the position? Was it a preventative measure to ensure he didn’t file a bigger complaint? Not that it would make sense for them to offer him a promotion to avoid that. Or would it? Aaronson indicated that the timing was coincidental, but was it really? Which information had come first, the complaint or the offer? If the offer came before the complaint, it meant it was legitimate. Knowing Diane, he couldn’t imagine it could be anything but. However, if the complaint came before the offer, it could have been the way-higher up bosses pulling strings.

He didn’t know what to do.

Weeks later, Jeff was sure he’d made the right decision. He had his own team in Diane’s new group, and he was killing it.

In the end, he’d based his decision on the way the company had handled the situation. They’d acted quickly and chosen to terminate the employment of an extremely tenured man based on his antiquated beliefs. Unfortunately, Jeff knew that many companies would not have done the same.

While it was clear that there was such a thing as a “gay glass ceiling” with individuals such as Carter Teague, the attitudes, actions, and support of others in the company were a promising glimpse into the future that Jeff would have in his career. And that was what he chose to promote.

End