Pearls of Wisdom: Life in the fast lane

Last week, my friends at the Official Online Hunting Safety Course for Michigan Hunters facilitated an extended comparison between the perilous world of the animal hunt and the equally perilous world of the job hunt. This week, however, I need no outside sources to create my next career-related extended metaphor: the job-search-as-romantic-enterprise. Given the unexpected dating deluge of the past six months (apparently, the rain gods realized that 24 years of drought is about all a girl can take), I have more than enough material to craft this one on my own.

Although the parallels between the quest for the Right Job and the quest for the Right Guy had never occurred to me, the synapses started firing at this Monday’s Liberal Arts Career Fair. As I walked into Tresidder’s Oak Lounge, there was something vaguely familiar about the room full of crowded tables and anxious candidates — and not just because I’ve been to a few career fairs in my time. Over and above the din of semi-awkward small talk, I recognized the complex patter of constant and conscious mutual evaluation. Once you’ve attended one, there can be no mistaking a speed dating event.

In many ways, the entirety of my past six months comprises a form of speed dating. In that short time, I’ve been on at least 17 first dates, several of whom will probably read this (remember when I promised I wouldn’t use your name?). Ironically enough, this pseudo-speed-dating blitzkrieg was predated by an actual, honest-to-goodness, $30-for-one-evening-in-a-cheap-hotel-bar speed dating evening.

The back-story: I can generally be convinced to try anything short of skydiving once, so when my newly-single girl friend approached me with the speed dating idea last July, I happily agreed. The guidelines for the evening were clear enough. Five minutes at each table, state your name but reveal no other personal information (therein lies the only perceptible difference from the career fair, where you hopefully hand over your resume sooner rather than later), and be sure to give both parties ample time to introduce themselves.

Before I go any further into the details of the evening’s spectacular failures, let me begin to draw the connections to the interview process. In both cases, the event begins long before it officially starts, requiring both physical and mental preparation on the part of the seeker. For starters, there is the all-important issue of attire. In these highly superficial situations, first impressions matter. So how do you represent yourself? Fun/casual? Serious/professional? Athletic/unemployable? The choices are endless, and potentially disastrous. If your choice involves anything overly revealing, under-washed or leather, it is better left at home. Same goes for aviator glasses, leisure suits, excessive cologne and Harley Davidson rings. If only the men at my speed-dating event had read this column first…

Once you’re fully and appropriately clothed, it’s time for the mental pre-game. Different people take different approaches, but all roads should lead to Rome (or, if you’re channeling I-Banking, Wall Street; if not, pretty much any altar should suffice). In real speed dating, of course, the Google-search is not an option; you get whomever (or whatever) is at your assigned table. But in other first date and interview situations, you have the means and the information to do a background check, if you so desire. Regardless, many daredevils, myself included, choose to go into it blind, in the hopes that we’ll know the right fit when we see/feel it.

After much anticipation and hopefully a few pieces of mint gum, it’s time for the event itself. Remember the importance of the first impression: walk confidently up to the table, make eye contact and give your potential significant other a winning smile. If you have braces or a mustache, I highly recommend stopping by a mirror first.

When it comes to conversation, privilege your strengths; there’s a reason why the HR reps wax poetic about benefits and growth potential, and it’s not because there are no downsides to their company. You should be able to shine for five minutes, and so should they. Honesty is a great quality, but no one says you need to lay all your cards out on the table from the get-go. Trust me, some things (your future or current salary, your astrological sign, your daily phone calls to your mother) are better left unsaid.

One thing you should both know and be comfortable discussing, however, is what you’re looking for. Although full-disclosure can be risky, revealing your desire for a 35-hour work-week or a 25-year-old housewife may be the only way you’re going to locate such rare entities (given that this is Silicon Valley, however, I’d say good luck on both accounts). I have always been a girl who knows what I want (trust me, this gets easier and more obvious the more dates/interviews you go on). On Monday, I walked up to each table and asked point-blank, “What are your writing opportunities?” Given the specific and complex nature of my writing interests (non-technical, creative and, above all, meaningful), this question is the equivalent of my romantic high standards (I only have 200 words left, so I won’t start listing them here). Let’s just say that neither my Right Job nor Right Guy is exactly a dime a dozen.

Once you’ve made it through your five minutes of key information exchange, it’s time to shake hands and move along. Time is of the essence for both of you and there is no reason to pretend otherwise. If they’ve piqued your interest, it’s only natural to be curious about what they’re writing — either on your resume or on their “I’d like to hear from” card (in real speed dating, anonymity is preserved by wearing numbered tags; the coordinators contact you if you both indicate interest) — but lingering at the table is a definite no-no. Much better to walk away with the confidence that you’re worth calling back. If you never hear from them again, it’s their loss, right?

Assuming all goes well at the event, there’s the issue of the follow-up. Call? Email? Wait 24 hours? Three days? Two weeks? The choice is yours, but I will say this: after you pass the 24 hour mark, the longer you wait, the more likely the opening will be filled by someone who’s more excited about the possibility of a long-term commitment. As for what to say when you make contact, try something along the lines of “I enjoyed meeting you the other day/night, and I’d love to get together again soon.” No need to write a master’s thesis or a stand-up comedy routine (and yes, I’ve received both).

Now I know I’ve made both of these potentially stressful processes sound like virtual cake-walks, but, lest I mislead you, dear reader, I conclude with a caveat. In an ideal world, the jobs and dates at these events would be worthy of someone as high-quality as you. In reality, however, the pickings are rather slim. Because neither my friend nor I, nor any of the other five speed dating women, found a match, the event coordinator generously offered us another round on the house.

Although I appreciated the offer, I declined. Instead, I turned to the tried-and-true category known as “friends of friends.” As they say in the business world, it’s all about who you know. If the past six months have taught me anything, it’s that, once you start networking, your Stanford connections will take you far.

Always a woman of her word, Lisa Mendelman will be attending tonight’s Networking Reception at the Alumni Center. Email her at lisame@stanford.edu.