When I was young and interviewing for jobs, the most popular tough question you’d be asked was, “What is your biggest weakness?” I went into meetings prepared with an answer, and would easily spout replies like, “My biggest weakness? Probably my chronic workaholism.” It usually worked.
One time I tried to be funny and told the dour human resources woman, “My biggest weakness is definitely Wham!” I still don’t know why I didn’t get that job. Maybe she was more of a Duran Duran fan.
But that was the past when you got hired by talking about how passionate you were about your career. When nobody cared if you had any life/work balance. I’m fairly certain that one of my bosses didn’t even know I had a home because I was always in the office when he came in and when he left. He probably thought I slept behind the Xerox machine with the spiders.
But what I’ve learned from my most recent job interviews is that nobody cares about your biggest weakness anymore. Now they care about you. As a human. It’s unsettling. I’ve had recruiters ask me introspective questions like, “What’s your definition of success?” “Who or what has influenced you the most in your life?” and “If you could design the perfect job, what would it be?”
“I’m not sure,” I replied to that last one over Zoom. “But it’d probably involve kittens and a winery.”
It feels like I’m doing more personal reflection while trying to get a job than I’ve ever done on my own. Maybe I should buy a black leather couch and a box of tissues for my home office before my next interview. “Yes, Janice,” I’ll sniffle, “I do think my inner child will heal via this position of social media manager for a laundry service. It’d be even more healed if there’s some wiggle room in the listed salary.”
My most recent interview wasn’t exactly a therapy session, but it might send me to one. It started off poorly when the nice HR woman asked me to describe my role at the organization I recently left, and I tried to be funny.
A: “I tried to be funny”
Q: What will be carved on Wendi’s tombstone?
Instead of detailing my position as a social media consultant and listing everything I did for five years at that org, I instead rather flippantly tossed out: “I was the straw that stirred the drink.” And then the confident smile immediately fell from my face when I realized I’d just quoted drunk socialite Sonja Morgan’s opening line from The Real Housewives of New York.
But wait! It got worse!
Politely ignoring my unhinged Bravo quote, the nice HR woman then threw me a curveball. “I have a controversial question to ask you,” she began. I braced myself, wondering if it’d be about geopolitics, or the infield fly rule, or were Ross and Rachel really on a break?
“Okay,” I answered with a hint of trepidation. “Hit me.”
“What is your stance on … the Oxford comma?”
Holy shit, woman. Ask me about the Middle East or vaccines or the upcoming election or literally anything else, I’m begging you. Not about perhaps the most controversial rule of grammar to ever exist. I’ve seen hundreds, no THOUSANDS, of online wars about the Oxford comma. I’ve seen librarians and editors drop f-bombs when debating it. I’ve seen friendships end and marriages hit the skids. No, thank you.
My mind raced, my palms got sweaty and I felt faint.
Wait.
My mind raced, my palms got sweaty, and I felt faint?
Do I say I don’t like the Oxford comma? Make a joke, like, “I’d rather deal with a serial killer than a serial comma”? Or do I say I do like the Oxford comma? Tell her my favorite book is Eats, Shoots & Leaves: Why Commas Really Do Make a Difference? And why was she even asking this when I was interviewing for a job that was mostly TikTok videos? THERE ARE NO COMMAS ON TIKTOK, WOMAN.
It felt like a trap. A trick. A really, really lame game show. But then I summoned up my Gen X skill of navigating every workplace situation imaginable via bullshitting, and smiled. “I’m sorry,” I said, “but I’m not going to answer that. Because my biggest weakness is that I don’t share my punctuation opinions.”
She said they’ll get back to me soon.
Brilliant. From someone who worships the Oxford comma.
Love this, Wendi, and kittens and a winery...where do I send my resume!?