Like
David Carson (Class of 2010)
David Carson passes the South Park test
I clearly remember my first elevator ride to the sixth floor of Central 1 Credit Union. My palms were sweaty and there were perspiration beads on my neck that threatened to burst -- my underarms were not far behind. My mind was working in overdrive as I role-played last-second scenarios and tried to imagine the types of questions I was about to be asked. I knew virtually nothing about the woman who was going to interview me except that she was the manager of the Operations Manual Department; that she had just returned from a business trip to Toronto; and that today was the only day she could interview me before her schedule slammed shut for the next two weeks. I also suspected, from our brief telephone conversation the day before, that she meant business and that she ran a tight ship. What, I sheepishly wondered, was she going to make of a guy like me?
I have no background in banking or finance, know very little about the industry, and I have always quietly shunned the corporate world. Owning a wardrobe that requires an iron and dry cleaning doesn't sit too well with me, either. These thoughts jumped out at me and as the elevator doors slid open, I was struck by a wave of apprehension. You don't belong here, my inner voice mocked. What were you thinking? But I stepped out of the elevator and I awaited my fate.
My future employer looked the part: she had short, brown, professionally cropped hair, wore a conservative white blouse, and apologized almost immediately for appearing in jeans, explaining that on Fridays employees are encouraged to dress down. If this was dressing down, I wondered, what horror would Monday bring? She ushered me into her corner office, sat down across from me, and asked me, deadpan, who my favourite South Park character was.
It is not easy to render me speechless and I like to think that I am difficult to rattle. But rattle me she did and rendered speechless I was, at least for a second. Composing myself, I smiled, stuttered, and cleared my throat before informing her that Mr. Garrison, with his mixture of compassion, drug addiction, and general oddness, was my favourite character. I also really liked his stereotypically guidance counseloresque glasses. She loved my answer. Then she asked me if I knew the difference between banks and credit unions. I didn't. She really didn't care. And then she explained the difference.
The South Park question, she later told me, was the most important, because it gave her a glimpse at my character and whether I would be a good fit in the office. People can be taught to do just about any job, but it's virtually impossible to teach someone a desired personality. The interview is a testing ground -- a test that our character either passes or fails.
Read more about the author.
Posted April 2010
