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“Good. I just don’t want to sound too cheesy,” I said. “The other people waiting look like they have degrees. They are probably specifically trained for this job. I just don’t know what I have to offer.”
“You have a lot to offer,” she replied. “Don’t ever think otherwise.”
“I have to get this job, Mom. I have to. I don’t want to work at the university anymore. I’m so over it. I’m ready for something bigger and better.”
“Good for you,” she replied. “Pursue your dreams. I know you’ll get this. You just go in there and show them how amazing you are. You don’t need to be anything other than what you are. You can do this.”
“Thanks, Mom,” I said with relief. “I’m going to go back in there. I appreciate your uplifting speech. It was exactly what I needed.”
“Call me when it’s over and let me know how you did.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
I went back into the reception area with a new boost of confidence. I wasn’t carrying a suitcase full of recommendations, but I could make a good case for myself. I wanted this job. I was certain I wanted it more than anyone here. A lot of these people looked like they could buy one of these expensive watches. I was going to use that to my advantage. I was in it for the long haul. I wasn’t going to jump ship the moment something better came along. This job would be my career choice. I didn’t have headhunters knocking on my door. I didn’t have connected parents putting me in the right jobs. This was just me busting my ass.
“Ms. Stiles?”
My head popped up. There was a woman standing in the doorway. Butterflies crowded low in my belly.
“Yes,” I said and followed her back. It seemed to be a bit of a lightning round of interviews. I noticed a few of the people that had been in the reception area sitting and talking with what I suspected were interviewers.
“In here,” she directed.
I walked into a room with a single chair facing a long table with four people already seated. My stomach dropped. It was like I was sitting in front of a firing squad. I sat down in what I called the princess pose. My knees were together, and my legs were slanted to avoid flashing anyone.
“Hello,” an older man said. “You’re Macy Stiles?”
“I am,” I said with a nervous smile.
“Can you tell us a little about yourself?” he asked. “Your application is a little incomplete.”
I tried not to cringe. “I’m sorry about that,” I answered. “I was told about the job last night. My friend happens to know the company. She spoke with someone and got me the interview.”
“Oh, you’re Trisha’s friend,” a woman said with enthusiasm.
I had a feeling that was a good thing. “Yes.”
“Please, tell us about yourself,” she encouraged.
I wasn’t sure how much they wanted to know. I had practiced a small speech. I hoped it wasn’t overkill. “My name is Macy Stiles. I was born and raised here in San Francisco. I know the city like the back of my hand. I’m currently working as an executive assistant for the head of the history department at the university. Along with taking care of him, my role has evolved to include the other professors in the department. So, I currently take care of four busy professors.”
“I don’t see a college background,” one of the men said.
“I didn’t go to college,” I answered honestly. “Unfortunately, I was never big on grades and such. I graduated with a B average, but I didn’t want the burden of student loans. My mom raised me on her own and couldn’t afford to pay for a college education. I couldn’t see starting on an expensive path when I had no idea which way I wanted to go. I have been working since I was fourteen. I enjoy working. I love doing things that make me feel accomplished, even if it’s just keeping a professor on time for his classes.”
There were some nodding heads. I hoped that meant they liked my answer. The questions kept coming and I answered without hesitation. It felt like a tennis game. I was whacking every question lobbed my way.
“Why do you think you would be able to do this job better than the other fifty people currently fighting to get it?”
I smiled. I had prepared for this question. I was so ready for it. My chin raised a little and my shoulders were back.
“I know I’m able to do this job better because it would be my sole focus. I’m not in school. I have no desire to go back to school. I’m not climbing the corporate ladder. I happen to truly love being an assistant. I feel like I’m a very important cog in the machine. I’m smart. I don’t have a degree to show how book smart I am, but I am savvy. I’m intuitive and easily anticipate the needs of my boss. I’m prompt, organized, and I don’t make mistakes. As I said, this is my job. Period. I don’t have a family to take care of. I only have my boss.”
There were a couple more questions and then the interview was over. I walked out feeling proud. I kicked ass. I might not get the job because I didn’t have blue blood and a fancy degree, but I didn’t care. I did my best.
The interview had given me the courage to keep fighting. This was just one job. There were others. I was going to chase after them.
8
