b.kocik's Old Timey Blog

I’ve been using the word “no” an awful lot lately. For some reason over the past few months there’s been a lot of interest shown in my resume (which apparently is out there somewhere, though I don’t remember where) and my LinkedIn profile. I get all sorts of random emails, LinkedIn messages, and even phone calls from recruiters. My favorites are the ones who call me to ask if it’s okay to email me a job description. You know what? Take a chance, skip the phone call. I’d much rather deal with an unwanted email.

Most of them get a very quick “no” out of me. Like, for example, Google. I got an email from a Google recruiter a while back, something along the lines of “We have some great opportunities here at Google, and I just wanted to see if you have any interest!”

He actually used an exclamation point, as if as soon as I saw the words “Google” and “opportunities” used in the same sentence I would nearly wet myself with excitement. Finally, the great GOOG is calling on me, after all these years of quiet desparation and yearning! My actual response was, and I quote, “No, thanks.” Google has a reputation for not paying very well, and for having something of an elitist, hipper-than-thou culture that I want no part of. I can’t imagine the shock this recruiter experienced when he discovered—probably for the first time—that everyone isn’t dying to go to work there.

Another didn’t survive past the first question. “How much experience do you have writing web apps in Perl?” “None. I know better.” Where on my resume does it say I have ever written a web application in Perl? I think the very act of being willing to admit I ever had would show a significant lack of judgment that would turn any potential suitor away.

A few recruiters get a little further with me than that. But almost inevitably, they (or the company they represent) find some creative way to lose my interest shortly thereafter. Like the company I won’t name that hounded me more than a year ago. I had occasion to be in the same room with one of their employees on a semi-regular basis, and every time I did he would try to get me to talk to one of their recruiters. Finally I caved, and a technical interview was set up. Fair warning to all recruiters: I’m a terribly lazy person (it’s part of why I write software), and if I’m really not interested in your position I am going to half-ass your interview. Just so you know.

Oh, and if you set me up with someone who has no business conducting interviews I am not going to rise to the occasion and shine like a pro, I’m going to toy with him. That’s what this company did. Within two minutes of the start of the interview I could tell the interviewer had no idea what he was doing. He’d ask me questions like, “So, do you know how to use threads?” and I would respond with informative, thorough, clearly thought-out responses like, “Yes.” About ten minutes into the thing I was about to terminate the interview myself (which I will do—and have done—if I get bored enough), when he beat me to the punch. Later I got a phone call from the recruiter telling me, “Yeah, we’re looking for someone with some stronger Java skills.”

I replied, “Given who you have now, I would be, too.”

I have walked out of interviews, like I did when an interviewer asked me to come up with an algorithm to solve a sudoku board. With a marker. On a whiteboard. Seriously. In that case I was already squarely on the fence about the position anyways for other reasons (if you’re trying to woo a potential employee, try not telling them that you’re not sure if you have a sustainable business, or if you yourself will even be sticking around), and that question shoved me right off of it on the side of “I’m going home now.” They had even paid for plane fare to get me there, which I sort of felt guilty about.

That last mistake was actually a pretty common one, it turns out, and at its core it is this: Do not ask me to jump through hoops until you’ve given me really good reason to want to jump through them. That sounds snobby, but I honestly get anywhere from five to nine random inquiries per week from different recruiters. If you’re one of them, you need to remember that I’m not looking for you, you were apparently looking for me. If you give me the slightest reason to turn you down I’m going to do it, because there’s a whole line of recruiters right behind you and I have to weed through you somehow. One of the surest ways to get me to terminate the process is to make the mistake of thinking that I need (or want) a job, and am therefore motivated to go through a bunch of process to get to an interview. I’m not, and I won’t.

I don’t really like to interview to begin with, so if you happen to get me to agree to an interview, for heaven’s sake do NOT blow it by sending me a job application with instructions to “make sure I fill it out before the interview.” I’m not going to. You know what I will take the time to do, though? Compose a short email cancelling the interview, and making it clear that I will not be seeking to reschedule it. (Don’t believe me? I did exactly that not two hours ago. I’ll give you the recruiter’s contact information if you want to verify.)

It’s not that I’m a prima donna, nor do I have illusions of grandeur concerning my worth as an engineer. Please. I know my station. But since you came to me, it’s really sort of unrealistic (maybe even rude) to expect me to do a bunch of leg work in order to talk to you when I really didn’t ask to in the first place. And besides, a job application? Really? What is this, Arby’s? Sometimes I’m tempted to fill them out with a bunch of fictitious babysitting and fast-food jobs. Reason for leaving: Mom said if my grades didn’t improve I couldn’t work school nights anymore.

I have a carefully-constructed resume and an even more carefully-constructed 11-year track record in the industry. Don’t ask me to write out my employment history in long hand, outlining my “responsibilities” for a 6.5-year position in a tiny little box. It’s just not going to happen.

I found out recently that people actually do read this blog (which made me briefly consider taking it down and letting the domain expire). I don’t know how many of them are recruiters (though some of them have told me this is how they found me; why on earth anyone would read my drivel and still want to contact me afterward is a profound mystery). But if you’re a recruiter and you see yourself or your company reflected in this post, do me a big favor: Don’t call me. I’d appreciate it.