| |
|
|
My job primarily
consists of finding the right person to fill a job opening. Some call
it a headhunter, but I like to think of myself as a matchmaker. Like
Yenta in Fiddler on the Roof,
only better looking. Or like Patti on The
Millionaire Matchmaker, only less annoying.
Recently, I had to arrange travel for a candidate coming from Minnesota
to Ohio. One of the reasons he was interested in the job in Ohio is
that his he has friends and family (including his fiancée) in
the area. After several successful phone interviews, he flubbed the
face-to-face interview, scoring a zero on a technical test they gave
him.
Since I paid for his ticket and rental car, my suspicions were roused.
It crossed my mind that he had talked his way through the phone calls
well enough in the phone interviews to get invited for an interview so
he could make a long weekend of it. In short, I wonder if I just paid
for a long weekend snog fest in Youngstown. If anyone deserves a love
getaway weekend in Youngstown, it's me.*
This incident got me thinking. I don't think this is the first time I
have had this situation happen. A few years ago, I had a similar
situation with a candidate from Austin, Texas (for kicks, we'll call
him Tex). He was an excellent fit for the job, open to the salary range
they offered, and said he was hitting a glass ceiling in his current
company. In the business, we call that a career wound. It's enough of
an itch to make you want to scratch it.
At the risk of sounding repetitious, after several successful phone
interviews, Tex was invited to Ohio for a face-to-face interview. He
flew coach, but was put up in what is alleged to be the most luxurious
flophouse in town. I don't know how true that is – if I ever stayed
there, it would have to be on someone else's dime, too.
So Tex came to town the day before the interview. My co-worker Greg
picked him up at the airport, took him to dinner, and showed him around
town. The evening went long, included drinks, and I have a sneaking
suspicion ended at a gentleman's club. Greg was notorious for spending
money that was not his own. Those are called "entertainment expenses"
and they get "written off."
The next morning, Greg took Tex to breakfast and dropped him off for
the interview. As predicted, Tex nailed it. The manager loved him, and
consequently, loved me. Tex took a cab to the airport and returned to
Austin. A couple days later, the company made him a very generous
offer.
Greg called him with the offer and in response, Tex chuckled.
"That's a nice offer, but... I live in Austin. Everyone knows that it's
one of the best places in the world to live.** I work for a great
company and I love it. Besides, I've got a bazillion stock options that
I would lose if I leave now. I've got a hot, young wife who was born
and raised in Austin, and my kids are in school here. I love the Baylor
Bears, I love the weather, and my life is perfect. How can you compete
with that, son?"
Short answer: you can't compete with that.
I think Tex was just a little taken by the fact that someone liked him
enough to fly him in and put him up in a nice hotel. Add to that a
personal escort showing you all around town and taking you to dinner.
The lap dances were icing on the cake. It feels good to be wanted, and
we all give in to that a little bit once in a while. Personally, I
would never take it that far.
Sure, who can resist free samples at the supermarket? I've accepted a
cup of coffee while listening to a pitch for Amway. I've sat through
time share presentations in exchange for tickets to Disneyworld and
Medieval Times Dinner Theatre. I was once paid $10 for answering market
research questions about my cigarette preferences (smoking makes me
cough). Certainly I've had my share of "business lunches." But to spend
someone's time and money talking about a job that I had no interest in.
Or would I?
Last winter, I got an email from a recruiting manager at a large
competitor. It said, "We're looking for sharp people who want to work
at our company, blah blah blah. If you are interested, or if you know
someone who is interested, please contact me blah blah blah."
I was not interested and I never know anyone who is, so it didn't
apply. It was the next part that got me: "Even if you aren't interested
but just want to network, lunch is on me!"
In Vegas, I saw a woman win over $1000 on a nickel slot-machine. As the
machine continued racking up her winnings with bells clanging and
lights flashing, a crowd gathered around her. She sat with her mouth
open staring at the machine. For me, reading the words "lunch is on me"
is like that, accompanied by balloons and confetti dropping from the
ceiling. Two of the most joyful words in the English language: free
lunch.
So I responded, "Hi Tim, I'm always interested in lunch. Let me know
when and where."
Within a few days, Tim and I met at a nearby restaurant. Tim was joined
by Rod, a "business development manager" from his company. That's fancy
BusinessSpeak for "salesman." Tim was late-20s, wearing a starched
white shirt and tie, blond brush-cut hair, and a pinkie ring. Rod was
mid-50s, wearing a sport coat and open collar. I'm unkempt, mid-30s,
sporting jeans and an un-tucked button down.
I started off with French onion soup (it was free!) and we chitchatted
about their company and what they are looking for. We talked about my
background and my current position. I explained that I have a lot of
responsibility and autonomy. I have a lot to do, but I come and go as I
please. I dress, most days, like a homeless guy. Shorts and sandals
from April to October. In short, my job is great.
When the entrees came, Tim asked, "Why is it you're looking for a new
opportunity?" One of the great regrets of my life is that I didn't have
the nards to say, "I'm not. I just wanted a free lunch." Instead I
mumbled something about being proactive.
They told me a little about the culture of their company. They
mentioned things like an 8 am start time. Weekly staff meetings. A
dress code. Interoffice memos. I had to stop Tim. You might say I
borrowed a page from Tex.
"Look at you. You’re wearing a tie. I'm dressed like a homeless guy,
and I like it. I don’t think I'd want to work for your company."
So, maybe we're all a little guilty of making the most of a situation.
What separates me from guys like Tex, though, is this: at least I
didn’t order dessert.
____
*Youngstown, Ohio is not
a romantic destination. It's a struggling Rust Belt town
on the Mahoning River with a crime rate nearly twice the national
average. To be fair, that statistic is heavily weighted by a murder
rate nearly 5 times the national average.
**In the late 90s, Austin was booming. It continues to
consistently rank on various "best of" lists such as Cool Cities,
Fastest Growing Cities, Best Place for Singles, Best Cities for
Families, Large Kid-friendly Cities, Best Cities for Seniors, Smartest
Cities, Brainiest Cities, Most Educated Cities, and, of course, Best
Places to Live.
|