Okay, so my first idea was to create a recruitment blog that looked deeply at many of the salient issues facing those who recruit. I wanted to study all aspects, from the technical to the ethical, and to bring like-minded people together to discuss and cogitate. When I mentioned this idea to a friend who also happens to be in recruiting, this is what she said:
Gia – Are you effing crazy? No one is going to want to read about that! They want to laugh and to feel superior. You and your philosophization!
Me – So, I’m the only one who’s concerned about some of the broader philosophical questions relating to recruitment and retention?
Gia – No, stupid, but you are the only one who wants to WRITE about it and who thinks that other people want to READ about it. Figure it out.
I decided she was right. And so was I. So I’m taking the Shakespearian approach. Think Falstaff in “Henry IV.” He’s the foil that keeps the play from being bogged down in it’s own introspection. That being said, I DO plan on getting introspective about deep philosophical subjects, but I’m also going to provide comic relief, because, well, life is both complex AND funny. There is corporate injustice AND there is Dilbert.
Maybe I can get Gia to help me with the funny bit. She’s a lot like Falstaff. Well, actually, she’s nothing like him. Except the funny bit.
Finally, the title of this post has to do with a great story I heard about an interviewee who obviously didn’t take his meds. It goes something like this:
The job was a manager position at a hospital. The candidate was interviewing with the Chief Nursing Officer, with whom he’d be working closely. The interview went fine; he answered the CNO’s questions well and she was generally impressed with him. Then the interview ended. And so did the candidate’s chances.
He hugged her. Not a handshake; not a high five; a full contact hip-to-chest hug.
As the CNO attempted to regain her composure, the candidate handed her a box of chocolates, said thank you, and left. Still in shock, the CNO opened the box. Half the chocolates were gone.
I’ll bet everyone’s got a story like that. Or better. Care to share?