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Mar 9, 2004 Friday, the 27th of February was to be my last working day. I had received my notice that as of March 1st, I would be classified officially as "unemployed". It would be the first time since I was 17 years old that I would have no visible means of support. Friday, the 27th of February was also the day I was asked to interview for a position within another department of my corporation. My Supervisor had recommended me to another project. Oh, no. Here I was in Chester, Virginia with an interview scheduled 120 miles north in Fairfax, Virginia. All my suits and ties were in my closet at home in New Jersey, another 150 miles north of Fairfax. It was time to go shopping. I needed a Jacket, a shirt and a tie to go with slacks I already had. Thank you "Sears". Hey, you really didn't think I was "Men's Warehouse" or "Today's Man" material, did you? Anyway, one jacket (Navy), one shirt (white) and one tie (that I liked) later, I was ready for my interview. I had no clues going into this process. I knew no one associated with the project but my supervisor had recommended me, so he believed I was capable of doing the work. This new department was willing to talk to me based on my resume and the recommendation. It would be my current chance to avoid duty as a "Wal-Mart" greeter. (I'm still a little young for that anyway.) The first person I spoke with actually began briefing me on where in the world I would be working. The entire area of responsibility (AOR) and all the project aims were laid out in a reasonable outline. After 25 minutes of this I was turned over to one of the department's "technical experts" who began running a series of "dos" this and "script" that and "config" questions that, for the greater part, I could only shrug my shoulders at. I was not completely out of his technical loop but I don't even carry a cell phone because I think they're too complicated. (Actually, I am afraid of any phone that has a button reading "send") So I finish with the technical guy and then I'm turned over to a "Functional" guy. Now, I am a "functional guy" too. A functional guy is a logistician or a maintenance expert that is also a trainer. He is a person who is unafraid to explain and teach his/her experience and knowledge to others. This part of the interview was much more comfortable. I don't have an extensive background in military maintenance operations, but I know enough of the functionality to actually perform and complete workloads. After Mr. Functional was done, he brought me back to interviewer number one. "Have we scared you off yet?" How was I supposed to answer that? "I believe I can help here." I replied. On to the final part of the interview. I had been briefed, prodded and pried at for almost two hours. Now I was introduced to the project supervisor. He enjoys telling stories of his experiences as a soldier. That's okay because I like telling my stories too. Until, "How much do you want?" This has got to be the most horrible question of any interview. Heck! I WANT and million dollars! I WANT two million dollars! Now, I can't ask for that, but if I go too low, he'll agree and figure he got a bargain. I tell him my figure. He chokes, but writes down my number and says he has to talk to Finance. OH MAN! I just killed the whole deal! Then he says, "Come in Monday, we'll get the paperwork started on your passports and visas and you can begin training up with the team! We'll get the money thing worked out. I want you. See you on Monday." Hey, that meant, I was still employed! I am now in training at Ft. Stuart, in Georgia, in preparation for new adventures in far away locations. "Wal-Mart" is going to have to wait at least one more year. ------------ About the Author: Independent, Conservative, Christian. Married 29 years with 5 children raised and one grandson being raised. 30 year Army Veteran and published poet with www.poetry.com since Y2K. Email Michael John McCrae: michael.mccrae@us.army.mil Tell a friend about this site! ------------ |
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