Twist

The human resources director sent me an e-mail, inviting me to attend a second interview. Kudos for them: They hadn’t written me off because of my age.

This time I met with a woman—the would-be supervisor—who had been on the job for all of one week. I couldn’t tell how old she was, but she had to be at least 15 years younger than I. She kept talking about competencies and buckets.

Throughout our hour together, we had unbroken eye contact. Looking someone directly in the eyes usually reveals something about them, something other than what their words tell. But I couldn’t read her.

I suppose that was her job, as an interviewer: to ask the questions and reveal nothing. I suppose it is unrealistic, perhaps even unreasonable, for me to expect more. But that’s what I do: look for the story behind the headline, the person inside the suit.

Now they say I’m a top contender for the job.

Despite my best efforts to champion myself, there is nothing like external validation to put a spring in my step.

We’re nowhere near a decision; still, it's nice to be wanted.