Job applicants have been coming to the office for the last few days, dropping in every half-hour.
I play the guessing game of, who will they hire?
The first applicant of this morning was a very nattily dressed man. His body language and manners were the equivalent of Received Pronunciation.
If he was of a type, then I would describe that type as The Understated Yet Über-Sophisticated Cosmopolitan European, the kind sometimes found in commercials for the inaccessibly expensives.
When I handed him a brochure to inform him about who we were, he accepted it as befitted a gentleman; but as he did so, he looked me in the eye and said, thank you, but it won't be neccessary; I've already researched your company.
Then, unlike other job applicants who waited patiently in their seats, this man stood. He stood with his hands clasped behind his back, and took the opportunity to peruse everything that could be seen out our front window.
He had a quiet, unassuming air; and yet he looked for all the world like a man standing at the window of a penthouse office gazing over his empire, having taken the moment to reflect on his baby son playing with their new puppy.
And I caught myself thinking, he'll never work here. He'll never be demoralized enough.
I'm hoping he gets hired if only so I can watch how the human events will transpire and cascade.
Boss' Assistant dropped by later in the day to inform me of his/her new title; s/he is now self-crowned VP of Minions. I asked our new VP who was the front-runner so far.
They like the Über-Sophisticate the best, said the VP of Minions. But they don't think they can hire him; they know his personality won't gel with Boss' personality.
It reminded me of an anecdote; I think it's a well-known one in some circles. I'll attempt to repeat it from memory. It begins with a CEO:
This CEO convened a board meeting, and presented each member his board of directors with a gift-wrapped box.
Inside each box was nested a set of Russian dolls. The CEO encouraged everbody to open the doll, and then the doll within the doll, etc.
Inside the final hollow doll, there was a note which read, if we persist on hiring people smaller than us, we shall become a company of midgets. But if we persist in hiring people bigger than ourselves, we shall become a company of giants.
Mind you, politically somewhat-less-than-perfectly-correct midget reference aside, the image of a company full of hollow people, each one snug inside the next one up, isn't a pleasant metaphor no matter in which direction it is interpreted.
But I'm hoping, vainly hoping but hoping nevertheless, hoping for their sake and for my entertainment, that they hire the Über-Sophisticate.
Posted by edgar at March 20, 2003 03:11 PM