Job interviews are very much like online dating. One looks at a profile fitting one’s expectations, submit a nudge and voila, in no time one finds oneself in front of the screen or on the phone for a short chat.
During that first interaction, both sides are sizing each other the way they know how – “Tell me about yourself.”, “What do you like? ”What do you not like?” etc. The whole purpose is to see if there will be a second date… Also, to meet tonight at Carlo’s.
The time passes way too fast for him. Dinner is up…
While waiting for the drinks, she plays with her hair, he tries to keep eye contact and sound confident. They both try to keep the conversation going with the carefully premeditated questions and topics. They talk about innocent things slightly touching topics they are both really interested to know.
Appetizers are introduced to the table shortly after asking about his previous experiences with online dating or blind dates for this matter. He tells a couple of funny stories from the past. Nothing spicy, really, just to set the mood, make everyone comfortable and yet see how she will react. She laughs at everything he says, but her eyes betray her hesitation.
Her risotto is here, as his lasagna with an additional pour of red. He is not hungry, just nervous. But he has to hide it and hopes she is not counting the sips he makes. They move into more serious topics trying to build a stronger foundation for a seemingly well-running date.
The hesitance has gone, and now, both are deep into the conversation only ever so slightly taking mental notes. His strategy has shifted to answering her questions. She seems to have a list of them. A never-ending story. But he is patient and takes the time to reassure her. And now, it is the time to see one of the signs involving her posture, eyes, hands and hair…
This is not her first date, you see. She has done this before, and she knows how the game is played. She remains calm and neutral while observing every single move or statement he makes. He has to work hard to impress her.
With both main courses gone, they’ve gone through all questions she had in mind. Now, his turn has come. He has thought earlier today about at least three questions for her. You know, those you do not usually get every day. Something that will show her that he is serious, different, unique, one and only…
The problem is she answered them indirectly earlier when she was putting aside the neatly cut pieces of onions on her plate. No biggie, he is smart, and he figures something out – he asks her how she feels so far about tonight. She smiles, saying that all is peachy and there are butterflies in the air.
Her panna cotta and his tiramisu have quickly disappeared from their respective plates. The limoncello as well. Suddenly, she remembers that she has to make this deposition earlier tomorrow and it needs a few more touches. But she will call him after, and they will grab a cappuccino. He is very much looking forward to it. They hug, and she leaves, while he is covering the bill.
She never does. Call him, you know. He is simply not the prince on a white horse. Not hers, at least.
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