Group interviews suck. They only exist to benefit people who already work at the company, because everyone would rather just rely on Trevor to be really enthusiastic during the session and act like MegaCorp is the Coolest Place To Work while you get to lean back and look like the quiet, cool guy by comparison. Plus, as the interviewer, in a group setting you only have to pay attention a third of the time. While you stare straight ahead wondering where you're going for lunch today, Jerry Jobseeker has to frantically switch eye contact every ten seconds between you and your coworkers.
Besides having to constantly renegotiate to whom you address each answer, group interviews are shitty for the interviewee because now you're forced to come up with way more questions and ways to "Add Value" than you otherwise would have had to. When you meet the CEO, then the CFO, then the CMO, CTO, COO and hiring managers all separately you can overlap your questions and give each person the chance to show how smart they are:
"Well Becky, I already asked Michelle this one but given the nature of your role as COO I'm interested to hear how ... (your eyes roll so far back they do a 360 and come up from the bottom)."
One on one interviews allow you to avoid the power dynamic of who currently embroiled in an office spat with whom, and crack the same joke about the guy working the desk at reception that you know is gonna kill multiple times. The only downside to the solo interview is that if it's going poorly, or some weird shit is happening, you're all alone like Rose in the ocean until that knock on the door. And the only thing worse than spending an hour with a prospective employer who's acting like a dick or constantly checking his phone is being interviewed by someone with two lazy eyes.
Before you bail because you think we're picking on those less physically fortunate, hear us out and imagine this scenario:
Most people have societally-accepted body language signals to indicate they are no longer interested in a conversation: looking at your watch, opening a screen to scroll through emails, or giving clipped, abbreviated answers are all telltale signs that, "We're done here." But how do you handle someone who doesn't look at you once the entire interview?! There are only so many options your mind can run through:
- Maybe this guy is just super rude to everyone?
- Did he read my resume before I walked in and decide he already wasn't going to hire me, so fuck it, why waste his time with formality?
- Perhaps there is a small wastebasket fire that needed to be extinguished just outside his door?
- Is Rachel from Customer Service watching a bootleg version of The Last Jedi at the cubicle directly behind me?
No one considers the possibility that this guy was actually not being rude at all and paid close attention throughout, he just has two lazy eyes and it just appears he's looking four feet to your right the whole time because he god damn can't help it.
If you think you've found yourself in this very unique situation and you want to test your hypothesis, here's what you do: slowly stand up and put on this Napa by Martine Rose Skidoo Anorak, starting with the removable sleeves and working your way up to the full funnel hood. If your interviewer's gaze never turns in your direction the good news is you were probably right, he happens to have two lazy eyes. The bad news is you're now sitting in an office wearing a full on Arctic-ready coat zipped up to your face and you likely ruined any chance at getting an offer, but sometimes it's better to be right than employed.
Brand: Napa by Martine Rose
Store: Opening Ceremony
Why: This is the kind of coat that totally revolutionizes winter transit. Normally you check the temperature first, then gauge the number of additional layers you need underneath your parka so you don't freeze your ass off while waiting for your dog to pee, but with this Skidoo Anorak you won't even have to wear a shirt at all! Look at this thing! It's like the designer said to the pattern maker, "Here's the inspiration: create a coat that brings into adulthood the way you felt when your parents made you wear older siblings' hand-me-downs even though you weren't big enough to really fit in them." Sure, you no longer fit through the train or bus doors, but who cares - you'll be warm enough to walk wherever you needed to go anyways.