"So, what kind of sales experience do you have?"
By the time I managed to swallow the lump in my throat, I still hadn't come up with a good answer. The job description had emphasized the non-importance of prior retail experience, yet admitting to my lack of previous exposure seemed a sure way to lose. So, with a quavering voice, I forced out a lame response about having interned at a library and assisting patrons. My interviewer responded only with a terse nod, and I guessed two things right away. One, that my answer didn't hit the mark. And two, that I probably wouldn't be getting the job.
I'd envisioned myself arriving early, dazzling them with my resume and poise, and leaving with reasonable certainty that I'd done well. But when interview day came, traffic was so bad that I found myself calling ahead to warn them that I'd be late; by the time I arrived and my apologies were over, my nervousness had reached such a level that my voice shook on every syllable. And the anticipated queries about my listed experience were virtually absent, replaced by questions about customer service and upselling and loss prevention that I could only answer with uncertainty. I walked out in a sort of daze, knowing that I'd bombed it.
I spent the next few days gripped by frustration and embarrassment. The entire incident played on a loop in my mind. Each time I recalled it, I was struck by a better answer I could have used during the interview and grew more exasperated with my fumbling replies. And though my family and friends were conscientious enough not to prod me as the days passed without a job offer, I couldn't help the suspicion that they shared my disappointment with myself.
A week passed, and I accepted the reality that another candidate had landed the job. Once I had come to terms with my failure, I was able to reflect on it in a more effective way that permitted me to think of the future rather than fixating on the past. Clearly, I had been ill-prepared and failed as a result. More importantly, the root of the issue was my allowance of wishful thinking about a successful interview to become unfounded optimism and overconfidence. I had been so preoccupied with imagining success that I had not taken the proper steps to make it a reality.
With this lesson in mind, I continued my job hunt. Two months passed before I was offered an interview for a part time job similar to the one I'd missed. Over the next few days, I tailored my resume and updated my reference list, compiled a list of behavioral and traditional interview questions and impelled my friends and family into quizzing me from it until I had perfected my answers, and pinpointed the exact time interval during which to send a thank-you e-mail for maximum effect. The anxiety I felt this time around was quelled by the assurance that I was about as ready as I could be.
Of course, the interview didn't go perfectly. But it was a close match to the one I'd imagined before my first try. When I left this time, I left with the job. Neither my initial failure or the lesson I took from it prompted me to completely snuff out optimism or confidence in my abilities in the future. Rather, by shifting the source of my confidence to preparation for the worst instead of hopeful expectation of the best, I enabled myself to fulfill my desire for success.
By the time I managed to swallow the lump in my throat, I still hadn't come up with a good answer. The job description had emphasized the non-importance of prior retail experience, yet admitting to my lack of previous exposure seemed a sure way to lose. So, with a quavering voice, I forced out a lame response about having interned at a library and assisting patrons. My interviewer responded only with a terse nod, and I guessed two things right away. One, that my answer didn't hit the mark. And two, that I probably wouldn't be getting the job.
I'd envisioned myself arriving early, dazzling them with my resume and poise, and leaving with reasonable certainty that I'd done well. But when interview day came, traffic was so bad that I found myself calling ahead to warn them that I'd be late; by the time I arrived and my apologies were over, my nervousness had reached such a level that my voice shook on every syllable. And the anticipated queries about my listed experience were virtually absent, replaced by questions about customer service and upselling and loss prevention that I could only answer with uncertainty. I walked out in a sort of daze, knowing that I'd bombed it.
I spent the next few days gripped by frustration and embarrassment. The entire incident played on a loop in my mind. Each time I recalled it, I was struck by a better answer I could have used during the interview and grew more exasperated with my fumbling replies. And though my family and friends were conscientious enough not to prod me as the days passed without a job offer, I couldn't help the suspicion that they shared my disappointment with myself.
A week passed, and I accepted the reality that another candidate had landed the job. Once I had come to terms with my failure, I was able to reflect on it in a more effective way that permitted me to think of the future rather than fixating on the past. Clearly, I had been ill-prepared and failed as a result. More importantly, the root of the issue was my allowance of wishful thinking about a successful interview to become unfounded optimism and overconfidence. I had been so preoccupied with imagining success that I had not taken the proper steps to make it a reality.
With this lesson in mind, I continued my job hunt. Two months passed before I was offered an interview for a part time job similar to the one I'd missed. Over the next few days, I tailored my resume and updated my reference list, compiled a list of behavioral and traditional interview questions and impelled my friends and family into quizzing me from it until I had perfected my answers, and pinpointed the exact time interval during which to send a thank-you e-mail for maximum effect. The anxiety I felt this time around was quelled by the assurance that I was about as ready as I could be.
Of course, the interview didn't go perfectly. But it was a close match to the one I'd imagined before my first try. When I left this time, I left with the job. Neither my initial failure or the lesson I took from it prompted me to completely snuff out optimism or confidence in my abilities in the future. Rather, by shifting the source of my confidence to preparation for the worst instead of hopeful expectation of the best, I enabled myself to fulfill my desire for success.
