Wednesday, January 11, 2017

Waitressing...Again--what are personality-based questions

So, there's this little breakfast joint in town. I absolutely loved eating there.  And last summer when The Scribe and Hippie told me they wanted to do cheerleading and soccer, we happened to sit there eating crepes and hashbrowns.    
    "Cheerleading.  Well, that sounds neat, but that's over a thousand dollars.  And soccer, that's about seven hundred--after all of the traveling fees and everything."
    The kids faces drooped. Their eyes turned into pools of complete sorrow.  I felt like a true failure, so before we left, I grabbed an application at the restaurant and decided to get a second job.

    The restaurant had amazing food that they'd discount for employees, AND I've been a waitress before--and I'M great at eating!  I thought we'd make the perfect pair.  
Image result for drool cartoon food
Link here
    Boy, was I wrong!

    The first interview was with the main manager.  He's the sweetest man; kinda reminds me of King Candy from the retro version of Candy Land.  We laughed and joked.  I really thought he'd offer me the job right off, but instead he set up a second interview.
    The second interview was with another manager--one who believed in personality-based questions.  "Tell me about a time when you've been inappropriate," she said.
     I wanted to say, every day of my life.  For crying out loud, I'm too honest! But of course I couldn't say THAT.  
    "Inappropriate, huh?"  And I could hardly think of anything. "Well, I pretty much tell things like they are. My oldest daughter had a bunch of friends over last weekend. I overheard one of them talking about sex.  So, I burst into the room--and showed them pictures of STDs on Google. I always thought I'd be the cool mom, but now I'm turning into THAT mother. You know, the one who flips out when kids say the word boy or makes veggie trays with ranch dip, and then hovers, watching as the kids eat every last bite. Or the elderly mother who insists on acting young, wanting to do makeovers WITH the teenagers even though she's not just over the hill, she's about to be 6 feet in it...."
    The manager just looked at me, then laughed. And, apparently it had been the right answer because that night she called me. I was confident she would offer me the job. And I had my acceptance speech all prepared...when she asked me in for a third interview?!  What was this--an internship with Google? No! This was a job--AS A WAITRESS!
    So, I almost didn't go. My mom thought it was craziness. My neighbor said it was bizarre.  My kids thought this was "the real world." And I, well, I dressed up and went just for the hell of it.
   You know when you have a weird feeling about something, like maybe you shouldn't do it, but you go anyway?  That's how I felt right before the third interview.
    I walked up to King Candy, and instead of him interviewing me, he beamed and shook my hand.  "You got the job!  We just call people in for third interviews to see who will show up--then, if they do, we offer them the job."
    I stared at him stunned--because it's rare to meet a true genius. Then I took the offer.  That's when the fun truly began.