When I was in my early 20s I was earnestly trying to figure out my place in the workforce. I remember hearing advice from various family members that not only is it good to figure out what you love but it’s also good to know what you absolutely don’t want to do. For some reason, this sentiment allayed a lot of my intense anxiety about not knowing "what I wanted to do when I grew up." I was working in retail at the time and, though, I honestly wouldn’t trade those years in the business of running clothes and servicing people who were the dregs of society, it wasn’t what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. So, I started interviewing. As everybody knows, interviewing is one of the worst activities in this modern-day and age. Not only does is resurface and exploit feelings of unworthiness and self-doubt, but it is really just a charade to see whether or not you can perform on-demand. Interviewing is a whole other post, though. What I want to focus on is one interview, in particular, I had with a company I honestly cannot remember the name of or what exactly the position entailed. I do know that it mentioned beefing up the company’s online presence. Anyway, let’s start at the beginning.

The office was in midtown, close to Central Park. I got off at Columbus Circle 30 minutes before the interview to print our my resume at a FedEx Kinko’s nearby (I know, who prints out resumes anymore?!). I was nervous as all hell but also curious about what the office and people would be like. Everything went smoothly. I printed out my resume and made it to the office about 10 minutes early. The receptionist was friendly and told me to just wait a moment while she contacted the interviewer. After waiting a few minutes I was called into a conference room that overlooked the busy street below. I sat in a comfy chair across from another comfy chair and it all felt very cozy. A man came in, a bit flustered, followed by another man and a woman who looked visibly distraught. Immediately the energy changed from pleasant and mellow to confusing and tense. I watched the woman carefully, really wanting to know if she was okay and seriously thinking of asking if I should come back another time. Before I could wrestle my anxiety down to speak, the interview started. The first man explained the company’s history, what they did and why. He then let me know it was a family business and they were all very close. They had dinner with each other, vacationed together, went to their kids’ recitals, and he even hosted a BBQ for the office at his summer house.
I was already ready to run.

He then asked about my experience and I went through the tasks and responsibilities of my previous internships. Excitedly telling them how much I enjoyed social media and my passion for writing, explaining I was able to write in various tones and on many topics. They did not seem impressed by my eagerness.

The nondescript man snorted. Do you think that’s all you would be doing here? You think we’re able to just afford a social media manager who doesn’t do anything else? You’ll need to sell just like everybody else, he sneered. I was taken aback by his level of frustration. I stuttered I didn’t know I would need to do that. He let out an annoyed laugh. I have a meeting I have to run to he said, and said it was nice to meet me and left the room. The other man also left suddenly after staring at his phone. It all happened so quickly I was stunned.

Before I could gather my thoughts I realized I was left with the woman who was still sitting in the same position, still visibly upset. She looked at me and smiled the saddest smile I’d ever seen. She told me today was a hard day. I asked how she was doing. She looked out the window at the busy street below and said her son died today 3 years ago.
I’m so sorry, I whispered.
He was a good boy, she said, and you could tell she was remembering a pleasant snapshot from her past when she was able to embrace her son.
It was a car accident. He was only in his 20s. She spoke as if she was more telling herself these details.
I’m so sorry I repeated not knowing what to say to comfort her. She continued as if answering the question rolling around in my head, I came into the office today because this is where my family is. She explained the first man who came into the office was her brother. We sat there in silence for a while. She stared despondently out the window and my eyes were fixed on one of the empty chairs in the room. I didn’t want to leave her. She finally spoke again and said it was nice to meet me. The interview ended.

I walked to the elevator, seeing the two men speaking with their colleagues. They waved, and I nodded and smiled. When I got to the street everything hit me and I cried. I cried so hard I had to catch myself on a wall next to me. I was so overwhelmed by the actual interview but mostly affected by that grieving mother and her need to be in the office that day to be near her family.

Needless to say, I did not get that job, but I think about that interview often. It is still to this day the most intense interview experience I’ve ever had. I hope that woman is okay, but I still wonder why she sat in on that interview. I wonder if she had no other release than, me, a stranger.