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By 4:45 p.m. on Thursday, I still hadn’t heard from my boss about the attorney interview. I belatedly realized that maybe I should let her know about it before it happened, so I sent her a quick email notifying her that the attorney had requested an appointment Friday morning. When I logged in Friday morning, there was a reply from her telling me to go ahead and take the appointment. I hadn’t asked for permission, really, so that struck me as odd. But at least it was a response to an email, so I don’t quibble.
The informational interview took about an hour. The attorney was young, personable, and noticeably did not ask yes-or-no questions. (Except for one that I fumbled.) I hope I only gave relevant information but one question took me by surprise, so I babbled. TBH any long conversation with someone I don’t know well leaves me reflecting on various things I said, thinking, “why did I say that?”, “I sounded like an idiot!”, and other such pleasant thoughts. It’s like l’esprit d’escalier, where you think of all the clever things you could have said after a conversation is over—except it’s the brain-weasel version, so I’m stuck in a loop of recalling every stupid thing I wish I’d never said.
It hadn’t occurred to me how much of a performative experience an interview like that really is. I was hoping to represent a cooperative and dedicated employee, willing to provide what limited information I had. I’m sure the attorney was hoping to represent a neutral party dedicated to upholding justice and equality. At one point, he asked me to describe our office layout and where people sit; I wondered why he didn’t have a floor plan, because that’s information I would want, in his circumstances, but I described it as requested.
At lunch, I told M about that question, and her comment was “you know he already knows that, right?” Because she always sees the situation sub rosa. And that made a lot more sense than an attorney not doing preliminary research. I shrugged and said I thought it was weird because research, but for whatever reason he’d wanted me to describe the cube layout.
So the attorney is playing a role, and pretending not to have information already in his possession; and I’m playing the role of mild-mannered editor, hoping not to have any information directly relevant to a discrimination lawsuit. Given those roles, I wonder how much of that hour was wasted...
The informational interview took about an hour. The attorney was young, personable, and noticeably did not ask yes-or-no questions. (Except for one that I fumbled.) I hope I only gave relevant information but one question took me by surprise, so I babbled. TBH any long conversation with someone I don’t know well leaves me reflecting on various things I said, thinking, “why did I say that?”, “I sounded like an idiot!”, and other such pleasant thoughts. It’s like l’esprit d’escalier, where you think of all the clever things you could have said after a conversation is over—except it’s the brain-weasel version, so I’m stuck in a loop of recalling every stupid thing I wish I’d never said.
It hadn’t occurred to me how much of a performative experience an interview like that really is. I was hoping to represent a cooperative and dedicated employee, willing to provide what limited information I had. I’m sure the attorney was hoping to represent a neutral party dedicated to upholding justice and equality. At one point, he asked me to describe our office layout and where people sit; I wondered why he didn’t have a floor plan, because that’s information I would want, in his circumstances, but I described it as requested.
At lunch, I told M about that question, and her comment was “you know he already knows that, right?” Because she always sees the situation sub rosa. And that made a lot more sense than an attorney not doing preliminary research. I shrugged and said I thought it was weird because research, but for whatever reason he’d wanted me to describe the cube layout.
So the attorney is playing a role, and pretending not to have information already in his possession; and I’m playing the role of mild-mannered editor, hoping not to have any information directly relevant to a discrimination lawsuit. Given those roles, I wonder how much of that hour was wasted...
