Oh, Coordination... How I Miss Thee

Please. While reading this post... Try not to blow whatever it is you're drinking through your nose.

I was determined this morning. I woke up early and drove downtown to drop off my "examination" for the Legal Analyst position with the State, which consisted of a few questionnaires, and my application in person. I continued my search-for-employment roll, stopped by the office of this advertising agency, where I just submitted an application for an Account Executive position last night, to drop off my resume in person. You know... Showing some initiative.

Again, this goes without saying... I'm gussied up. So I get out of my car, and out of respect, walk the long way around the planter box... I notice this little mud patch, but pay it no mind because it looks dry. Yep. It LOOKS dry. And me and my gussied-ness continue right on through it.

People... It might as well have been black ice. I am air born before you can say "hey! that there's some slippery mud".

Portfolio, purse, and most importantly, the ass of my slacks are enveloped in this thick, wet, grimy, brown filth. Aaaaand I'm up! ...The quick 'did anyone see?' glance... And then I look down to assess the damage. My resume had fallen out of my portfolio, but had luckily evaded harm. Me, on the other hand, found myself scraping mud off my pants with bark. Bark.

Many of you may have called it and gone home. But not this girl. And I couldn't tell you why I didn't. Maybe because the majority of the damage was on the back of my slacks, and I figured I could hide it with my portfolio... Or maybe casually back out of any room?

So I went on up the stairs. And I stepped up to the reception's desk and I asked for someone to speak to regarding the position. She told me that who I needed to speak with had just stepped out for lunch and that it would be best to come back at a later time. In my head, I was all 'hall pass'! ...I'd go home, switch pants and presto chango! ...So I asked to use the restroom to get the mud off that the bark couldn't handle (you know, all of it), and the receptionist walked me back and said something like, "Yeah, I know how that is" ...And I opened my big mouth and said, "Oh no... It's nothing like that. It's just that I slipped outside and fell in a big mud pile." I even went so far as to show her the disgraceful muddy blotch as proof. You could almost see the empathy in her eyes.

Not two minutes later was I on my way, when she stopped me and said, "The lady you need to speak with just came back from lunch. If you have a seat, I'll go get her." .....Aw, crap.

So, the lady came out. And she was nice and all. I gave her my name and resume and my best hand shake... Apologized for my shakiness, explained that I had taken a spill outside. To which she responded, "Yes, I heard." ("...Um, Ms. - Do have a desk I could crawl under?") ...I let her know that I was usually more coordinated than this, (which we all know is a lie)... And said it was great to meet her and that I was really looking forward to hearing more about the position. She was really sweet. And let me know she'd look over my resume.

My question is... If she had just stepped out for lunch, and me coming back at a later time was best, why did it take a grand total of two minutes for her to become available? ...In my 5-month job hunting experience, these HR people get so many applications, they pretty much refuse to meet with every applicant and tell the receptionist to just drop it in the inbox......... Did I get a pity greet? Did the receptionist run to her office and say, "This poor girl ate shit outside and was hoping to meet with someone regarding the Account Executive position... Do you think you could spare a pity greet? Just this once?" ...This is so Seinfeld-esque.

Hopefully she looks at my covered-in-mud approach as courageous, and not as a 'what the F was this girl thinking?' approach. I suppose we could guess at the good things: That she came out to meet me at all; that my first impression (albeit entirely embarrassing) will be a lasting one and will most certainly set me apart; and that she was a very nice and a seemingly gentle soul.

Her last words to me were: "Be careful out there." ...Perhaps her next words to me will be, "Let's schedule an interview!"

...In the mean time, I will be avoiding mud. In all of its glorious forms.