I walked into town with our eldest this morning – moral support for her first job interview – at a local coffee shop. I coached her with the kinds of question an employer would typically ask on our way into town – and pre-armed her with the kinds of things they would be expecting to hear in response.
“Why do you want to work here?”
“Because I want money?”
“Good answer, but they probably want to hear about it looking like a great place to work, or that you like the idea of working as part of a team as your first job in order to learn quickly – or that you know you won’t get bored because there will always be a variety of things to do”.
“Why should they employ you?”
“I don’t know.”
“How about because you are a hard worker, and you’re reliable? You can bet service jobs turn over staff at a frightening rate – particularly younger people – so being reliable is a huge thing.”
We arrived outside after a few minutes – I shouted “speak up, and be enthusiastic!” as she waved goodbye.
I sat in a cafe in the high-street while she went to the interview, and noodled around with my work phone. After the better part of three quarters of an hour she re-appeared, and claimed it had been awful – dreadful – terrible – and that they would be in touch in the week.
“You can’t say it’s your first interview now though, can you?”
She shrugged, and asked if she could have an ice tea. I looked around, and saw the queue stretching the length of the coffee shop, so looked back at her.
She smiled, and I rolled my eyes in that way all parents do. Ten minutes later I arrived back at the table with an ice tea, and another cappuccino for myself.
“So have you calmed down yet?”