Thanks, But No Thanks

As I’m currently considering an offer of employment, I thought I would chronicle a humorous job-seeking moment in my life.

Nearly a year ago, reasonably tired of my three-plus-hour commute (and that hasn’t changed), I applied for a position that was exactly one minute from my house by car, and ten by foot. That’s ten minutes through the nearby park where I run on weekends. Despite this, at the time, I didn’t necessarily want to leave my current employ. I had only been marketing for a year, and I knew I still had much to learn. Ya know, like how to lick stamps without going all gummy in the tongue.

The big things.

The opportunity to really-really flesh out my resume and experience was too golden, but the appeal of a ten minute morning walk through grasses and trees to my employer deserved exploration.

The interview was great. I actually interview very well. In fact, I would say that I interview better than I am in my actual position. It’s a gift.

My college buddy, Quintilian, told me once that an orator was a good man, speaking well. I am not an orator. More like the Devil’s Advocate, or perhaps the Devil’s Advocate’s gopher-boy. In any case, I do know how to interview.

Usually, if I get an interview, I get an offer. No brag, just fact. I also know how to look good on paper. I am a writer, after all. Looking good on paper means they give me an interview to find out if I’m a real person.

What I do may seem like illegal misdirection and malicious deceit, but it’s really just marketing.

The offer from this company was less than I currently make. It was less than I had provided as a range of salaries which I would find acceptable in the interview itself. When a company asks you how much you’re looking for as salary, this is one of your moments to shine. Express to them that you know the current market trends for that particular position in that particular region (there’s a nice, easy and free calculater offered by Salary.com) and given that you’re a good, honest and hard-working employee with a stellar background and more experience than God, you would expect to be on the upper end of that scale.

At least, that’s what I do.

Anyhow, the offer was less and given that I didn’t really want to leave, and the job smelled exactly like a job I’d quit previously. I turned it down, politely of course. I then got a call from the man, the company’s attorney/volley-ball captain to “discuss” it. I kept saying that I simply wasn’t interested, but being an attorney, and something of an ass, he pressed me for details, perhaps under the misguided impression that my saying “no” was some kind of negotiation tactic. Finally, I stated that the base salary was below both what I make and what I thought was reasonable, and to be fair I was insulted by it since they had specifically asked for a salary range in the interview.

Amazingly, the attorney/volleyball captain asked me to prove, that’s right, to prove this salary range for the area. Using the site above, and a couple of others, I did. I thought this would be the end of it, but it wasn’t. I was asked what I thought would be a reasonable offer to bring me on board.

Evil grin.

Given that I didn’t really want to come “on board” I gave what I thought was a preposterous number. About a 33% more than my current level.

Outrageous.

They met it.

Now I had conundrum. Not just one of those that presents itself so you can use the word “conundrum” and sound smart. This wasn’t dilemma, predicament or even a quandary-level decision. This was a true conundrum, the type that JFK during the Cuban Missile Crisis would have been hard-pressed to resolve.

Fortunately, my would-be employer made the decision for me. Less than an hour later, as I was taking the second leg of my aforementioned three-hour-plus commute journey, I received a call from the attorney/volleyball captain.

“Hi there,” he said cheerfully. “We’ve found someone else who is more experienced and enthusiastic about the position. We’d like to withdraw our offer.”

I smiled what I’m certain was an evil, Devil’s Advocate smile.

“Certainly,” I said. “You’ve just told me everything I need to know about your company.”

In a bit of bravado, I then hung up. Sure, I probably shouldn’t have slammed that door, but it’s not often that you’re in the right place at the right time with the right comeback. That only happens in movies, sitcoms and staff meetings with my old boss Kellie.

So, I carpe diemed the hell out of the opportunity.

Can I use diem as a verb?

Probably I should have carped, but that sounds like it had something to do with fish. I'm sure my brother will set me straight.