Confidence, Articulate, Touch
It is important for a manager to identify the qualities of interviewees. David Grieves could read it on his interviewee’s faces. Literally. The job qualifications he was in search of were high check bones, full lips, and an attitude that say’s ‘I’m so cool that I can see you, but I will still pretend that you are not there.’ Anything else could be taught on the job.
The newest Hollister interviewee seated in David’s office was a squared jawed, olive skin Latino. He actually was not even applying for a job. He mistook David’s office for a changing room and David asked him to stay.
“So, are you interested in working for Hollister, Casper?”
“How much is the pay?”
“Minimum wage. We do offer full dental and ten percent discounts on all Hollister product.”
“I actually am looking for a new job.”
“Really.” David saw an opening that he could exploit. “Where are you working now?”
“I work irrigation for Son-of-a-Ditch.”
“Irrigation is tough work, Casper. Tough work leads to wrinkles. Here at Hollister we don’t do hard work. Do you see that sign?”
David pointed to a sign tacked to the wall behind Casper. A black stick figure was bent at the waist as he attempted to pick up a black cube. A red circle with a line across enclosed the figure.
“Yea. We have those at Son-of-a-Ditch. It means to not lift with your waist.”
“Waist, back, knees…whatever it is, we don’t lift with it over at Hollister.”
“I’m used to breaking my back everyday at work.”
“Think of Hollister as a low input high output organization. We defy the laws of logic if you really think about it. So, would you be like to join the family?”
David extended his hand over his desk towards Casper.
“Ah, sure. I could use a change of pace. Not much can be worse then digging a ditch.” Casper met his hand and shook with confidence.
“Colon cancer. Colon cancer is worse then ditch digging, but that is neither here nor there. Can you come back tomorrow at eight thirty for training?”
“Yes. Absolutely.”
“Great. See you then.”
Casper rose from the chair and left David Grieves office. David reclined in his black office chair, put his hands intertwined behind his head and sang softly to himself.
“Jungle love, it’s driving me mad, it’s making me crazy…crazy.”
The Post-Academy 