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SALT LAKE CITY — My daughter Annie has a job interview scheduled for this week, and she is completely unprepared. Parenthetically, I blame it on the public school system and her total lack of interest in the local Miss America scholarship pageant organization.
Truth is, Annie would make any employer proud to pay the exorbitant new employee health and welfare tax. So today, during our father and daughter walk through the neighborhood, I ran by her the questions that I think every prospective interviewee should be prepared to answer.
After all, interviewing for a job is an art form, and who better to teach my daughter just what to say (and do, and wear) to set her apart from all the other penguins in the job market than I, the Prodigal Dad: the one who is making amends for not having a God-given good-dad gene in his body?
I begin our walk ’n’ talk with the top of my list of questions that I, myself, have been asked during interviews.
First off, I tell Annie, they ask me to move my car because I inevitably park in the owner's parking spot. I say to them “Right away!” which, I believe, shows an eagerness and ability to complete given assignments with a good attitude.
Moving my car and finding an appropriate parking spot takes approximately 10 to 27 minutes, which establishes my enthusiasm to take the time to do the job right.
Then they inquire as to why I filled out my honesty questioner in purple ink with a punctuation happy face. I let them know it‘s an inherited trait, and then I smile pleasantly — which demonstrates a predisposition to things whimsical and lighthearted.
(I notice that Annie is staring at me with raised eyebrows, so I know I am really getting through to her.)
The interviewer then requests that I explain my personal philosophy of success. I quote the company attendance policy verbatim, which indicates that, not only did I notice the signage behind him, but that I can read as well.
I say something smart using the phrase “win win” and words like “task orientated,” “skill set” and “synergy.” I casually mention that I was southeastern Idaho’s champion in the 1988 Glaxica video competition to demonstrate that I excel off the business playing field as well as on. As planned, this virtually screams that I am well-rounded.
By this point in my job interview — even without looking at my resume that I have scribbled on the back of the parking ticket I just received — I can tell that I have made quite an impression.
Annie is equally impressed — as evidenced by her wide-eyed, open-mouthed stare. We walk in silence as she processes the techniques and procedures that will, without a doubt, influence her future vocation. I am glad to have helped.
(Does anyone here really think she would have taken any actual advice from her father? How dumb do you think I am?)
I smile a knowing smile and offer her a lemon bar from my pocket to underline the fact that dad thinks of everything.
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*Davison Cheney writes "The Prodigal Dad" series every week on ksl.com. Please do not call Davison's wife to offer her a deal on a gun. Do check out his other writings at davisoncheneymegadad.blogspot.com**
