I have a director-level guy that just made it through two rounds of interviews and I am prepping him for a panel screen – basically, a conference room full of people looking not to hire him – and am going through the checklist.
me – “Can you pass a work history background check?”
guy – “Of course. Do I look like a felon?”
me – “That’s not what I meant. They are going to pay an verification company$300 to call every former employer’s human resources department and check your dates of employment against what you put on that application they made you fill out.”
guy – “Oh FUCK. People really do that?”
me – “Yup. By the way, are you really a Six Sigma Champion Black Belt? You must be the Ryu of credit card processing.”
So he calls me back late this afternoon and says he ”took care of his date problems”. That sounds like he dismembered a corpse and scattered body parts all over Liberty City, but whatever. I am a “don’t ask, don’t tell” kind of guy when it comes to creative problem solving such as this, but I could just feel the FAIL coming on this dude. Basically I tell him that I hope everything works out, and as soon as I had any news, I would call him. Well, the VP/HR just called me – on my cell, mind you – and asked why this candidate called him and gave him cell phone numbers for all of his references, and said he admired the personal touch. I feel like I am at the craps table playing for a hard 8, so what the hell, right?
“Well, he REALLY wants this job and is prepared to do whatever it takes to get it.” Man, I am fucking smooth. Butter wouldn’t melt in my mouth. All hail Costello, king of bullshit.
Then the other shoe drops. “Stupid question – why do all of these cell phones have a NOLA prefix when two employers are based elsewhere and he just so happens to live in Louisiana now?”
DEEE-FENSE (clap-clap). “Who changes their cell phone numbers anymore when they move? Maybe these guys were natives and they all worked together in town once upon a time. Or they all kept their numbers so their families could call them and not pay long distance. I don’t know, ask him.”
“OK, now that makes sense.” No it doesn’t, you human resource professional fuckstick. It makes no fucking sense at all. It sounded like a stupid backpedal the instant I said it.