My favorite rejection of all time

In 1999, when I was still living in New York but trying to move to L.A., a British-based market research firm with a branch office in Manhattan was about to establish a second branch in L.A. My headhunter arranged for me to meet the head of the L.A. branch at the Manhattan office. The interview was cordial enough (he was jet-lagged, having just flown in on the red eye), but he soon informed my headhunter that he was really looking for “foot soldiers” to jumpstart the L.A. branch – although he might need someone more experienced down the road.

Two years later, after I had relocated to Los Angeles, I got a second opportunity to interview with the same firm, and the same man, arranged by the same headhunter. I was at the top of my game as a researcher, having performed my job successfully for 12 years – and still I came up empty. Making matters worse, this man offered only perfunctory feedback to my headhunter, leaving me to conclude that he just didn’t get me.

Four years later, after circumstances dictated my reinvention as a Processes and Standards guy at the Evil Aerospace Giant (EAG), I was so miserable that I phoned my old headhunter and asked her if she had any market research jobs in Los Angeles. She told me she was struggling to fill an opening at – you guessed it – the firm that had already rejected me twice. And the same guy was still in charge. I protested that he doesn’t get me, I’d be wasting my time – but she insisted that he wanted to talk to me, and I was weak enough to take the bait.

Having been away from the market research business for several years, I thought long and hard about how I might cast my EAG experience in the most advantageous light. I could talk about how I entered an industry I knew nothing about and came up to speed quickly – a beneficial skill when meeting new clients and trying to grasp their business. Or I could talk about how my EAG experience helped to understand how multinational corporations function, and how their marketing decisions get made. Or I could talk about how I won the respect, and ultimately the leadership, of a team that was already in place when I arrived – a coveted talent. Whatever the question, I was ready!

Throughout the interview, I drew upon my carefully prepared answers, weaving past and present experiences into one seamless bundle of positive attributes that rendered me perfectly suited for the job. Or so I thought. This time, the man’s feedback was swift and specific: “He talks too much… His answers were long and rambling… He’s bound to waste my analysts’ time talking when they should be working.” Interesting. Never mind that I possess an unassailable track record for quality, productivity, and focus – which he could have easily confirmed if he had bothered to check my references instead of fabricating excuses.

I will probably never know why this man so delights in rejecting me. But I do know that I will never give him the opportunity again.