JUN 4
But It’s Only a Little, Bunny Rabbit
It’s the little things that bite you
We catch up with the Monty Python crew as Tim the Enchanter leads the gang to the cave where the holy grail is supposed to be hidden. Only the cave is guarded by the most fearsome and vicious monster. As the men wait in fear for the monster to show itself, out hops a bunny rabbit of the white, fluffy kind. Tim shouts something like “There it is, the beast!” but the men are confused. It’s only a little bunny rabbit. Arthur dispatches one of his men to slay the beast, but to his dismay, the bunny grasps the knight by the throat and rips it apart. Total chaos ensues as all the knights attack the barbaric beast only to be bested by the bunny that nimbly leaps to each man’s throat. Dead knights lay strewn about the entrance to the cave, and Arthur realizes that a different tack is needed.
This
is a story of my own killer bunny rabbit - those seemingly
insignificant things that can have dire consequences.
Many, many years later, I went on a job interview with a
CIO for a position for which I had all the requisite
experience and skills. I had already passed screening
interviews and had prepared well for the interview. I had
even written up a few recommendations for some of the
challenges that had been described to me. Overall, I was
feeling very confident as I was led by the administrative
assistant into the CIO’s office where she was wrapping up a
meeting with another woman. That was, until I saw it – a
large booger hanging from her nose. As I was about to
mention, “You have something under your nose,” I realized
that the other woman was still in room and obviously, had
not mentioned it during their meeting. That would be
awkward. As the woman collected her belongings, the CIO and
her admin had a quick conversation, and I was certain the
booger would then be noted, but again, not so. Her admin
hadn’t said anything, either. Aren’t administrative
assistants supposed to tell you things like that?
Now I was in a predicament. Normally, I tell people if they
have something in their teeth, or their fly is unzipped,
etc., and would do so in this case, but two people,
including her administrative assistant had not. Did they
know something I didn’t? Maybe I shouldn’t say anything.
While I was mulling over this booger decision, the CIO had
sat down and was addressing me. I had no clue what she was
saying. All I saw was this giant booger hanging from her
nose caught in the light hairs above her lip, vibrating as
she spoke, more white than green and pretty solid as boogers
go. “Pay attention!” I reprimanded myself and asked her to
repeat the question, not a good start to a job interview.
As I recounted my background and relevant experience, I
realized I couldn’t look her in the face. Anytime I did, all
I could focus on was “it” hovering over her lip. I chided
myself for not telling her, but felt that it was now too
late to mention it.
As I answered more questions, I tried looking at her ear.
Have you ever tried conversing with someone’s ear? It’s
completely unnatural. Yet, I couldn’t make eye contact
without getting completely distracted by the phlegm. Without
eye contact, I was unable to generate any kind of rapport.
Plus, I just couldn’t concentrate on the discussion. This
was absolutely the worst interview I had ever been on, and I
couldn’t wait to get out of there. My perfect job was done
in by a piece of snot!
Isn't that the way the world works? It's the little things that bite you.