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First impression of a gangster

I LOOK in the mirror and a stranger looks back. He is all buttoned up in a suit and tie and looks as if he has come to sell me something.

Blimey. It’s me. Suddenly I feel rich and powerful — and a bit like a gangster. This is unfamiliar territory. The dress code in what I like to call my home “office” — a paper mountain with a desk somewhere within — is, um, informal: shorts in summer; blankets in winter. But today — well, I think we can officially call that “smart”.

I preen and pose a little more. Yikes. Is that the time? First rule of interviews: don’t be late. Yes, I have an interview — my first after a crash course in job-acquisition skills designed to turn me from a flip-flopped freelance journalist into the complete corporate package. My appointment is with a recruitment agency that specialises in the charity sector and, yes, I know it’s not a real job interview but it is a chance to practise what I’ve learnt.

In fact, I arrive early, mainly because I have factored into my journey time several natural disasters, none of which materialises. With an hour to kill, I go to Starbucks and order an espresso, a derivative of road tar drunk by men in sharp suits.

A little while later Charlotte Riaz welcomes me to the offices of Harris Hill with a smile and a health questionnaire. No hospital stays, but I might be due one, what with the nerves and that espresso in my veins. She then invites me to talk through my CV. But does “talk through” mean gallop or meander? I opt for a trot and relax as she prompts me with questions. I am almost beginning to enjoy myself. I feel in control, am conscious of my posture and the tone of my voice and am maintaining good eye contact. I unravel a bit when we discuss management skills — I don’t have many — but disguise my deficiencies by talking up my good qualities.

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So how did I do? “You were very well presented — a good first impression,” Riaz says.

Really? You’re not just saying that? “You talked through your career history in a professional and articulate way,” she continues. “You were able to talk fluently about your strengths, which can often be a stumbling block for candidates who struggle to sell themselves without much prompting.” This is going well, although I sense the imminent arrival of a “but”. “But you could be underselling yourself in terms of the level that you have operated on in the past — for example, as an editor and previously managing staff. Your manner is very unassuming and this is a strength, but could also be seen as a weakness in terms of coming across as someone who can make tough management decisions. I would have wanted to probe you further about it if I was putting you forward for a staff management role.”

After the interview I feel a bit drained but pretty good. I think I did OK, and in my bag I even have details of a job with a leading charity to consider. Things are looking up. I straighten my tie to celebrate.

THE LOWDOWN

OUR correspondent is a freelance journalist who for several months has been trained, groomed and analysed by a range of specialists in recruitment and career development. The aim? To find a “proper” job. After psychometric testing, personality profiling and careers advice, he is seeking work in the charity or not-for-profit sector.

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