Interviews are always nerve-wrecking.
I’m talking sweaty palms, weak knees, unable to say a full sentence; so going
to this one was no different. At least I thought.
We had been in contact for a couple
of days, emails a few phone calls. I had
arranged to drop by his home office early evening around 6:30ish. I
arrive (luckily my sister drove me) and
walk up to the door to a sign that says “I am hard of hearing, if I don’t
answer just come on in”. So, I ring the bell twice just in case; no answer.
Reluctantly I open the door and immediately start calling out ‘Hello’s’, I look
to the right to see an older gentlemen (probably
late 60’s) sitting in an office. He
looks up immediately and a giant smile comes across his face. As I approach him he holds out his hand and
says “You’re everything I could have expected”.
Shy from his comment I smile sweetly and mumble and thanks.
He leads me to the dining room for
our interview, as I sit down he offers ‘Vodka’ (to answer your question, yes, straight up out of the bottle vodka,
over ice). I politely decline and to
my surprise he is stunned. He responds
with “What, you don’t drink?!” “Yes I drink, but I’m okay thanks”. So already on edge we get going with the
interview. He asks me about myself, I
start rambling little things like where I went to school, my previous
jobs…etc. He then continues by saying
“Listen, if you don’t like doing something we can hire someone else” With this
comment, I’m thinking he means cleaning, cooking, hell maybe evening gardening.
Boy I was wrong; though I wasn’t yet aware of this. I'm assuming now he didn't want to say to much before I signed an NDA.
Another 5 or so minutes go by while
we are talking about previous jobs, schools…etc. He then offers to give me a tour of his
humble abode. We rise from the dining
table and to my surprise first stop on this lovely tour is his bedroom. The moment the door opens my stomach clenches
in a horrible way and bile rises in my throat.
In the middle of a rather large bedroom in a huge California king four poster bed
with red velvet and silk sheets with fur throws. Lights are wrapped around the posts followed
by pieces of velvety fabric. My eyes
dart around the room; there are cameras and lights everywhere. I look up to the walls that are covered with
flat screens and pictures of naked women in provocative positions on his bed. (Side note: I noticed none of these women in
the pictures were conscious). Numb
with shock, I then follow him to the bathroom where more pictures reside on the
walls of women bent over on the side of the bathtub and lying on the bathroom
floor, again none of them seem to be awake. (I
am silently praising myself for not taking up his offer on the drink).
We then head out of the “Red room of
pain” (props to the ones who know where
that’s from, but this is a literal version & I’m sad to say his ripped
jeans didn’t have the same affect). As
we stroll out onto the back patio towards the pool he sways toward me and
whispers “Feel free to take a dip in the pool on your breaks” while pointing to
a sign that says No clothes necessary. I.am.going.to.vomit! We are still on the back patio and I’m aware
he’s talking but I’m not sure exactly what he’s saying UNTIL I hear the words
‘nude photographer’ I then gape at him, I’m sure my mouth was open, possibly
drool dripping from the sides. He eyes
me for a moment (or should I say EYE , singular, seeing as one of his eyes
doesn’t blink…it creeps me the hell out; you know, on top of everything else). He then points to a naked statue of David standing in his backyard. He is giggling at the fact that I’m temporarily
stuck in this gaping position and have no idea what to say. He then leans in towards me and whispers
“Were very liberal around here”.
That was it.
I break my temporary paralyses and
head back toward the dining room. I pick
up my purse and look him in the ‘eye’ and say “I’m sure you have other people
to interview, I must be going”. He is a
bit taken aback by my quick tone and returns with “Sounds good, I will give you
my card and we will be in touch, let me walk you out honey”. I practically run towards the front door as
he hands me his card, he gentle says “We’ll be in touch” I close the door and
shout “UMM, no we will not!”
Once out of the house I jump in
Julie’s car and scream DRIVE. NOW !
What the hell? Why me? I look back at this experience and have to
laugh! I mean come on, this is just my luck.
So, if I can take anything from this experience, it’s “never just walk
into a hard of hearing persons home”. No wait, umm “never agree to take the
tour”. Maybe, “drink the vodka, it will make you stronger”. Well, whichever one it may be, I’m sure I
won’t make the same mistake next time.
Until then.
Gird your loins.
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