Harper's Rules (23 page)

“InterAnnex is doing a drug test?”

“Yes, but not just you. There is another candidate, a guy the venture capitalist knows, and they are testing both of you.”

“Do you know anything about him?”

“Why do you hurt me? I know everything about him. Go to Quest and give them the InterAnnex address and sign over permission to send the results to Wallace.”

“Okay.”

“Casey, for the record, do you have anything you want to tell me where a drug test is concerned? Now's the time.”

I suppose he had to ask. I wouldn't be the first unemployed person to take comfort in recreational drugs.

“Not unless they test for red wine.” I wanted to know since when companies drug tested before an offer was made, but he was already beginning to launch into his checklist for the final prep. I knew this stuff by heart, but especially with Selma's apparent abduction by aliens, it wasn't time for another alteration in my ritual. I soaked in the water and listened to Harper's voice, telling me what I already knew and still needed to hear.

HARPER'S RULES FOR FINAL PREP, #1

Know who the players are. You will likely be meeting with people you have not seen on previous interviews. Google them, of course, but also go to the company website and read their bios, see if they are on LinkedIn or Facebook, or if they have a following on Twitter. Remember that they often have an agenda different than the person you will be working for or even the person running the company.

Dead on, Harper
, I thought. In my case the problem is the money guy, John Sabia, their primary venture capitalist. Harper said he was an unusual guy, which was code for “he's not Wallace and probably won't like you.” Sabia made a ton of money in gaming technology and later reality television, and has made 800 million dollars from his last three startups. He is pushing for the other candidate.

“All I'm going to tell you,” Harper said, “is push back when you need to. He's got a big ego and is used to getting his way. I haven't met him, but I hear his midlife crisis is of epic proportions.”

“Got it. I am going to assume Wallace hates this guy?”

“Yup. But not enough to not take his money, and nowhere near enough to tell him he wouldn't consider the other candidate over you.”

HARPER'S RULES FOR FINAL PREP, #2

Corporate Carpe Diem: Go over your accomplishments and achievements and be prepared to document how there is a direct link between 1) where you have expertise and 2) their short-term problems.

Companies will go on poetically about their desire to build toward the future and hire talent that will complete this lofty vision, but in the end, in the overwhelming majority of employment situations, companies hire short-term solutions to short-term problems. They are focused on
Now
.

I'd already compiled a list of major accounts I opened with brand-new products. Startups burn cash and need revenue; it's no doubt the biggest reason InterAnnex wants me.

HARPER'S RULES FOR FINAL PREP, #3

Role-play concerns about your candidacy.

This is not the time to rationalize or make excuses or hope they don't come up; they will. Open the closet, look at the skeletons inside that make up your life, and be prepared to answer the obvious negatives. Remember, this is a final prep. They already like you, and they are already predisposed to believing whatever you tell them as long as it sounds and feels authentic.

“You,” Harper said cautiously, “have two areas I see as possible exposure: 1) you left a job without a job, and 2) you have never managed a sales force. How do you plan on responding?”

I told Harper I planned on blaming him for leaving my job since his avaricious and wanton ways created the reduction in my sales force that left me exposed and cast aside.

“Tell me,” Harper sighed, “when will you be over that? Is there a timeframe? Can we set a date?”

I reassured Harper that I would play it straight. I was asked to stay on my previous job by the CEO, and a counteroffer had been forthcoming. I could still be there, but I felt it was a matter of integrity not to be taking their money while I was interviewing.

“Nice. And item two?”

My response would be that in a startup there really is nothing to manage, that sales VP would be a title only for a year or two, and that I presumed if they wanted someone who was used to sitting in an office and directing in a hands-off, strategic way, that I wouldn't be sitting there. I also told Harper that I wanted to subtly point out that they needed new blood.

Harper suggested an improvement:

“You should hire me precisely because I am
not
a manager. I am a clean slate. I have no bad habits, no preconceived notions. I won't irritate you by always saying that whatever you want me to do is not what I did back in the day. I have been managed and know how it works, and you, Wallace, are a great manager, an icon. One of the reasons I want this job is to learn how to manage.”

“Okay,” I said, “I love that. I remember now why I made you part of my ritual.”

HARPER'S RULE
Ending Interview with the Big Ask

Ask for the job at the end of the interview.

Don't leave this to chance. Companies want to know where you stand. And if they are torn between two candidates, one of the deciding factors is often who wants the job more. Their reasoning is simple: the one who wants the job more will work harder.

When a company offers a candidate a job, it is the corporate equivalent to telling someone you love them. There is only one appropriate response. Anything other than responding that you love them as well, which in this case means you want the job, creates doubt. Leaving the interview without declaring yourself is no different than responding to the person who just said I love you with ‘thanks, I appreciate that.' They know what that means: you either don't love them, or more likely, you love someone else.

Here's exactly what to say when you ask for the job: ‘I want to thank you for your time today, and before I leave I want to make it very clear that I want this position. I would like to ask if any of you have any concerns about my candidacy that I can answer before you make your decision.'

If they say ‘no,' then you say: ‘Then I just want to discuss timelines. I have another option that is going to press me for an answer.'

If they say ‘yes,' you should field the concern, try to overcome it, and then ask, ‘Does that satisfy your concern?' If they answer ‘yes' to this, then say: ‘Can I count on your support?'

No need to discuss numbers or start date
unless
they do. If they do, they have played their hand, and the job is yours. Ask to see the offer in writing, tell them you will start as soon as possible, and leave the meeting on your terms.

“Got it, Harper. When does the other candidate go in?”

“He was in today. I scheduled you last on purpose.”

Harper's Rule: The candidate who interviews last usually gets the job.

“Hey, Harper, is this going to happen? Am I getting this job?”

But Harper is not Selma and wouldn't play. I knew what he would say: “You make things happen. Or you let them happen to you.”

Even though my commute would be twenty minutes longer, I was thrilled that Inter-Annex had their headquarters on Grand Street in Soho. I have always worked in Mid-town, but I loved the Village and loved Wallace for still being cool enough to be there.

One of the signs of a quality company is when you have an interview and the receptionist has been prepped to receive you as a visiting dignitary. It shows they value talent. When I got to the front desk, the receptionist greeted me by name, asked if I wanted anything to drink, and generally made me welcome. I wasn't surprised, but I was gratified. As I expected, the first twenty minutes were spent with their human resources director. Thanks to Harper, I knew better than to take this lightly. “They don't have the power to hire you, but they have the power to derail your chances,” he always said. The HR director ran me through the usual litany, verifying my work history, dates, and W2s. He mentioned they did a background check, and I took the opportunity to point out I had been to Quest this morning as directed. He could tell from my voice I was
surprised that a drug test was being done before the fact. “We don't normally do it that way either, but Wallace said Mr. Scott insisted it was his firm's protocol.” He shrugged as if to say it was too trivial for him to make a fuss over, but now I knew that Harper drove the preemptive drug test.

With HR in my camp, I was brought in to meet the board. It was a room that seemed designed more for defending a PhD thesis than as a conference room, but I suppose in essence that was what I was doing—defending my work. There was a podium and a side table set up opposite a long mahogany table, and Wallace and three gentlemen sat in overstuffed leather chairs. One chair was vacant.

Wallace explained to me that we were waiting—“not surprisingly,” he said with an edge—for John Sabia. He offered me coffee, but I was already on sensory high alert, and when I add that to caffeine, I always have to pee. Not knowing how long I'd be stuck in there, I told him no, thanks.

A moment later, the door flew open and John Sabia practically jogged in. Sabia fist-bumped the CMO, CFO, and IT director, but Wallace stared him off. I judged him to be in his early 50s. His head was shaved, he had diamond-studded earrings in both ears, and he had a soul patch— heavily dyed black—under his chin. The tail of some sort of serpentine tattoo finished just above his clavicle. He wore a black Twisted Sister t-shirt, black jeans, and sneakers. His sinewy arms belied his potbelly. He was trying oh so hard to be hot. It wasn't working. Clearly, Sabia's midlife crisis offered a testament to the power of his money to prevent people from laughing at him to his face.

Malcolm Gladwell says we make decisions about others in a blink. Neither Sabia nor I even needed a blink. I kept hearing Harper's voice: “He's the money guy. You won't work for him, you'll hardly ever see him, and once you get his endorsement, you can spend all your leisure hours hating him. He is only relevant for the interview.” The good news was that Wallace clearly loathed Sabia.

Wallace handed out a summary of notes he had made during my last interview, and he graciously added some of his own thoughts to my “unique strategy” and gave me full attribution. On paper, my musings seemed to be the fully fleshed-out work of a thought leader in the space, not the riffing of a relatively inexperienced executive.

Sabia balked. He said the guy they had in earlier worked in the social networking space currently and had done so his whole career. Why should they wait for me to come up to speed when he could hit the ground running?

I smiled brightly and said it was so refreshing to finally not be the “kid” in the interview process. Since social networking was nothing but dorm room dreams until 2003 and not a market factor until much later, if the other candidate had spent his
whole career in social networking, he must be just out of school. And if he is qualified for this job, he must be “an amazing young tyke.” Everyone laughed except Sabia.

The CMO, a cherub-faced guy named Harley with wiry salt-and-pepper hair, was eager for me to lay out my game plan. I enumerated what I considered the problems with the typical social networking business model and the inherent glass ceiling of “ad tolerance.” Wallace broke in with studies and statistics to back me up that, of course, I had not researched. I concluded with my recommendations for marketing proprietary social-networking solutions tailored for the corporate clients who could most benefit from them.

Sabia pounced: Why hasn't this been done before? I didn't know. What would the first ninety days look like? I wasn't sure. How long before we would get our first sustained quarter of revenue? I shrugged.

“Meanwhile,” he sighed with disgust, “I pour in money. A hope and a prayer.”

The CFO, a guy named Vivek, reminded Sabia that just two months ago at their Montego Bay meeting, Sabia was bemoaning pouring his money into “just another social networking concern” and wanted a new marketing approach.

“I'm just saying my guy, highly recommended as you know, has got experience that, no offense, she doesn't have,” Sabia countered. “He's
doing
it.”

“He sits in London and directs a U.S. sales force,” Vivek said. “He hasn't been in front of a customer in two years. How hands-on is that?”

Wallace interrupted to restore order. He was clearly embarrassed that they were talking about the family with a guest in the room. If this were
The Godfather
, he would have walked over and slapped “Santino” Sabia.

But Sabia didn't make his ridiculous fortune by caving in or by not getting his way. He conceded my idea had promise, but that didn't mean I would be the right steward. “Maybe we can hire you to work for the other candidate as sort of a VP-in-waiting,” he suggested. After all, I had never managed a sales force.

“No, thanks.” I said.

Wallace made it clear he saw no sales force beyond admin support in the first phase of the launch and that they needed someone who could sell now and manage later, not someone who used to sell but hasn't done so in years.

We were at an impasse. There was a full thirty seconds—an eternity in an interview— when we were all silent. I couldn't remember ever getting an offer when an interview came to a full stop like this. And then, wouldn't you know it, I was rescued. By Sabia.

“How old are you?” Sabia said.

I looked over at Wallace to see how to play this.

“You can't ask her that!” he said.

Sabia wanted to know why the hell not since it was his money that was providing, among other things, the conference room we were sitting in.