I will never forget the few fleeting glances two corporate big cats gave each other while interviewing candidates for a job. I was consulting for a start-up insurance company that had hired a number of good people but still needed a crackerjack claims adjuster for one of their new territories. The two executives had scheduled dozens of interviews in the boardroom. They invited me to sit in to throw my impressions into the mix.
By noon, they had spoken to seven candidates. Then the receptionist rang, “A Mr. Kevin Mason arrived early this morning. I know his appointment is at one. But he’s been here several hours. Do you think you could squeeze him in before lunch?”
“Uh, sure,” Mr. Cohn, the CEO, said. “Send him in.” Cohn introduced him to Ms. Engels, the vice president. He added, “I’m sorry you had to wait so long.”
“Oh, that’s OK,” Mason replied. “I came early because I had some time to kill.”
ZAP! That was it. The kiss of death. The interview was over. Cohen and Engels rolled their eyes simultaneously as he walked out the door. I was confused until Cohn said, “Right, just what we want. Somebody who kills time.”
“Not on our time,” Engels laughed.
Aha! I got it.
A big cat may have enough prestige to have the direct line to the U.S. president and enough power to silence the toughest critics. Time to vacation? Yes. Time to play? Yes. Time to have loving moments with the family? Of course. Probably even time to party. But what he doesn’t have is time to kill. If he did, he would never admit it.
Little Trick #62
Kill “Time to Kill”
The message between those three innocent-sounding words is, “My life is so boring and empty that I can’t think of a thing to do with my time. Nothing creative. Nothing productive. Nothing enlightening. Not even anything that would give me or my friends pleasure. What a loser I am.”
After a few more disappointing interviews, a striking brunette named Catalina walked in. She had that dynamic corporate look. The two senior executives smiled at each other, stood up, shook her hand, and eagerly scanned her résumé again.
Her answers to all their questions were right on the mark. As they stood up to shake her hand, they said, “You’ll be hearing from us.” They had found their claims adjuster. Or so they thought until . . .
The candidate smiled and said, “I’m so pleased. And Mr. Cohn, what is your sign?”
“My what?!?”
“Your astrological sign,” Catalina said.
“Uh, I’m not really sure,” he answered in disbelief. “Well, we appreciate your coming to apply.”
The minute she walked out the door, he bunched her résumé into a ball and slam-dunked it into the wastebasket.
Is it really so horrible that Catalina asked Mr. Cohn’s sign? No. He might even be an expert himself in astrology, numerology, and tarot cards and do Reiki healing on the side. He couldn’t take the chance, however, that his company’s claims adjuster would say something so irrelevant while trying to calm down a client whose car was crushed by a falling tree.
Later that day, another candidate’s résumé took a direct flight from Cohn’s desk to the shredder because she said “God bless you” as she left the interview.
So what’s wrong that? Nothing. It is completely appropriate, lovely in fact, when you are with Christian friends. Muslims say “Peace be with you,” and Jews say “Shalom.” But one spiritual suit does not fit all. Cohn shuddered imagining his new claims adjuster giving a Christian blessing to a rabbi whose synagogue was whisked away by a tornado.
Until you have further knowledge of someone’s faith and passions, stick to the safe stuff. Like “hello” and “good-bye.”
A soon-to-be big cat named Sandra, whom you met in Part Six, was their next candidate. Why did they hire her? Here are just a few reasons.
Sandra’s first sentence when walking in for the interview was, “Mr. Cohn and Ms. Engels, I hope for your sake I’m your last interview. You have probably had a grueling day.” She had accurately forecast how they would feel at the end of their long day. By commenting on it, she displayed Emotional Prediction—obviously an important trait for a top claims adjuster.
The two executives laughed, “You are so right.” During the interview, all of Sandra’s answers were sensitive and respectful. As the interview neared its close, Sandra casually commented, “Thank you so much for staying late to talk with me. Now I guess you have your real job ahead of you.”
Once again, she displayed on-target Emotional Prediction.
Up until now, I had been like a fly on the wall. As Sandra was leaving, she nodded and thanked me briefly, too. Wisely, she didn’t introduce herself to me or shake my hand. That might not have been appropriate since Cohn and Engels hadn’t introduced me. However, Sandra’s smile and slight appropriate acknowledgment made me feel real good. Which, of course, made me feel real good about her. She got my vote.
She also got the job.