While I still have not managed to secure a job, my search thus far has not been entirely fruitless. Since listing my resume on Dice.com (a technology careers website) about a month ago, I have received numerous job interview and recruiting requests. I never knew there could be so many contracting companies in one city. This leads me to believe that either there is a large market for these types of positions (which is entirely likely given all the large banks that base their operations in Charlotte) or that the competition between these contracting firms is intense (every time I talk to someone new, the first thing they ask is what jobs the other firms have been pushing). The answer is probably a little bit of both.
The whole process has left me feeling alternately one-in-a-million and one of millions. On the average weekday I spend the majority of my time doing three things: 1) talking on the phone or meeting with recruiters or HR representatives, 2) submitting myself to a “technical screen”, 3) interviewing.
The first of these is great. If it is a recruiter, I tell them what I want in a new job and they gush forth with all of the incredible opportunities they have waiting for me. HR representatives are just happy that they have connected a resume with the sentient being that wrote it.
The latter two can be nerve-wracking if not downright painful. Since I am applying for jobs that require programming expertise I generally have to be tested for knowledge on the subject. It is a necessary step in the process, and I know it’s coming but I never feel adequately prepared for these tests. I am not saying that I’m applying for jobs that I am not qualified to perform. It’s more like I am not up to date on all of the industry jargon that seems to pervade these conversations. “Are you familiar with the ‘Gang of Four’ programming model?” “What is the benefit of encapsulation?” “What are delegates?” At some point in time — either in college or in the course of my work at Clear Channel — I have known the answers to these questions. Even if I didn’t, the answers were just a Google search away, so why bother memorizing them? I’ll tell you why…so you don’t sound like an idiot during a technical screening!
When I go in for an interview it generally means that I have already gotten through the technically screening. It should be a piece of cake. Well, it is and it isn’t. At this point, I am casting a wide net so that hopefully I will eventually have some options down the line.
I’ll use a recent example to illustrate my point. One of the headhunters I have been talking to found a programming opportunity in Salisbury. Probably most people living in uptown Charlotte would immediately dismiss a job that would require a 45+ minute commute but I am not really in a position to be that guy. I talked on the phone with the hiring manager and answered his questions adequately enough to get invited for a face-to-face interview. On the given day I showed up early in my spiffiest attire. After navigating the bowels of an anonymous building in lovely downtown Salisbury, I finally found the right office and knocked on the door. Inside was an irate older woman screaming nonsense about parsing phone numbers to her boss and my soon-to-be interviewer. I politely waited outside the door for the (mostly one-sided) argument to conclude before stepping in and introducing myself. “Hold on a second while I finish up something.” Ten minutes of machine-gun-tempo typing ensued while I sat not four feet away and twiddled my thumbs. During this time I noticed a faint odor of…what is that? Overripe fruit? Caramelized crap? Vanilla vomit? I noticed a scented candle burning in the corner, but that couldn’t have been what I was smelling. Perhaps it was an effort to mask the foul aroma.
The boss man finally finished his pressing task and began his spiel on the company and why I would want to work there. He pointed out the fact that he came into work wearing a Jack Daniel’s t-shirt (XXL if I had to guess…he was a large man) and how the dress code was casual. Now I am all for wearing t-shirts to work, but wouldn’t it have been nice to inform me of this ahead of time? My impression of the company only worsened as we toured the rest of the office meeting would-be coworkers. It seemed like no two desks or chairs were alike and all looked like they could have been bought secondhand off craigslist for about $20. Wires, lamps, monitors, and other bits and pieces of computer hardware were scattered around the rooms. There was even a large closet with an abandoned desk — apparently someone had actually worked in this airless, windowless space once upon a time. I came away from the whole interview wondering what kind of fly-by-night operation I had witnessed. Needless to say, I didn’t press the recruiter to plead my case for the job.