I hereby reproduce an email from one of our new avid readers;
I have read your web site and I really enjoyed it. The only complaint I have is that you seem to think that only women will read it. That is discrimination of the highest order against men, my friend.
Anyway in one of your posts I noticed that you asked people to confess things and immediately my mind went back to about 3 years ago when I was the marketing manager of a company called (name withheld) that is based somewhere along
The managing director was this very strict and impossible to please brute of a man from
"When she sat down it was worse. I had a perfect view from where I sat. And she sat down the way Esther Passaris sat down in that Kumekucha photograph, what would I have done?"
Usually he was so particular about staff recruitment at his company that he always did all the interviews personally. So on this particular day I was rather surprised when he suddenly assigned me the task of interviewing the candidates who his secretary had already invited for an interview. “Cancel all your other appointments,” the managing director told me authoritatively.
I sat at my desk to organize my thoughts. I had not worked for Mr Enrico for 6 months for nothing. Usually people survived at this company for an average of one month. If you managed to work there for two months you were a veteran and would almost certainly qualify for a long service award. I am not exaggerating and people who know the company will confirm to you that I am telling the truth. The mzungu took advantage of the lack of jobs in
I had no illusions as I sat on my desk that if I hired somebody who was not good enough for Mr Enrico, I would be fired, forget all the good work I had done. So I would have to interview the applicants very carefully. I decided that to avoid responsibility I would send 2 short-listed candidates to him and pretend that I could not make up my mind between the two. That way if anything went wrong he would be the one who had made the final decision and not me. That was how you survived at this company.
I started the interviews feeling very pleased with myself. I thought I was quiet clever. The first 2 candidates were hopeless and I did not waste time with them. The next 2 looked like they had potential and I took additional contact information on them and told them that I would be in touch soon.
The minute she walked in the first thin I noticed were her long shapely legs. And the thighs!! Wacha tu. She was wearing a very short dress, actually a dark coloured mini skirt that brought out her brown sexy thighs. But she was not too tall either. She smiled as she greeted me. I waved her to the seat next to the short desk I was seated on. When she sat down it was worse. I had a perfect view from where I sat. And she sat down the way Esther Passaris sat down in that Kumekucha photograph, what would I have done?
I had trouble concentrating on what she was saying. She had some previous marketing experience outside the country which was a big plus for her. But I did not ask too many questions. Now you must understand that I am a happily married man and these days I do not cheat on my wife. I have become a good church-going man and I am glad that I found God. But those thighs…. Ai.
Don’t ask me what happened but that lady ended up in my shortlist of two candidates, together with some other man almost overqualified man. I feel guilty that I left out so many more deserving people. In fact I told her on the spot that I would be calling her for an interview with the CEO because I had already short-listed her. She stood up and smiled in triumph. It was a big effort to keep myself from looking at her as she walked away.
What are women thinking coming to interviews dressed like that?
The MD agreed to see my two short listed candidates. The other one was a very competent man who was perfect for the job. Later on I really got nervous thinking that the MD would suspect the real reason why I had short listed the girl. To be honest I did NOT sleep too well that night.
The next morning she came in an even shorter mini skirt, the kind that you can’t dare sneeze in. My heart started beating faster. I was finished. I was sure that the MD would suspect that I had gotten weak and qualified a totally incompetent woman “armed” with a mere mini skirt. How weak had I been? What reason would I give to my wife for being fired? What would I tell my friends. And yet they al knew that I was a serious church-going Christian.
I sat very nervously and almost jumped when the phone rang on my desk started rining. It was Mr Enrico, the MD, the man who enabled me to pay all my bills and therefore the man who literally held me by the balls. My heart skipped a beat. Would I be out in the streets this very day?
“Congratulations,” he said in his heavy European accent. “All ze candidates you selected were indeed excellent.” He told me the successful candidate would report the next morning and I was therefore to make arrangements for where the new sales team leader would be sitting. I didn’t dare ask who the successful candidate was.
The next morning I walked into the office and I saw a lady seated at the reception wearing a long skirt suit. It took a few moments for me to recognize her. It seems that my eyes had not studied her facial features too closely the previous two days.
So the same trick had worked on Mr Enrico? And she was a survivor too because she worked at the company for 4 long months—a record for ladies in the marketing department. I have never admitted this to anybody before.
So mini skirts DO work at interviews. That I can assure you.
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