As long as you present yourself as a dragon, your mosquitoes won't matter

I had an interview today for the job that is number 1 on my list right now.  It is a position for a copy editor at a local advertising firm.  I love everything I know about the company so far, especially that it's run by the same people who founded it almost 20 years ago.  I love the background of good, honest entreprenuership and the progressive attitude the company has.  I want to build my career somewhere like that, where I can learn and grow and contribute my best work.

This morning, I woke up late, but was able to catch up with time and head out the door on schedule.  As I grabbed my keys to take off, an unruly fingernail snagged my pantyhose and started a nice run on the thigh.  I wasn't sweating the small stuff.  The skirt covered the run. I could play it off for today.

Until I got into the car, and it split all the way down my leg. Then...I was in trouble. So I sped down to Walgreens to buy a new pair and--being the resourceful, classy lady that I am-- changed them in the public restroom. As I got into the car for my second shot, my hose snagged on the window knob and made a split up the knee. What luck! I was nearly in tears, having no more cash on me to buy another pair, and no time to make it happen. I hoped this wouldn't foreshadown the outcome of my interview.

I know it may seem silly. They're just pantyhose. But, all my interview resources and job-search books say how important it is to make a good first impression--to look good.  Bolles's "What Color is Your Parachute" had a whole section about how most interviews are lost to mosquitos (small, easily prevented mistakes) rather than to dragons (like the unqualified, underqualified, overqualified monsters).  I had all my A-game on. I didn't want to lose this interview to a stupid stocking!
Well-- being the determined, optimistic lady that I am-- I just got in the car and went. Why add "late" to the charges against me? I arrived on time, with a slight run in my hose. Right along the knee. I felt like it was a sore thumb, but I just smiled, hoping a bright face would attract attention from my legs.

  The interview went swimmingly. I was well-prepared. The interviewer answered all the questions I had written on my steno pad before I even got the chance to ask them. We had a great conversation, which lasted about 45 minutes. She wasn't in a hurry to boot me out. And, in fact, she invited me back for a second interview next week. She complimented me on my portfolio, my professionalism, my preparedness ( I did my research AND I prepared a list of questions of my own), and my friendly demeanor.

She didn't mention the pantyhose. And whether she was disgusted by them,  wrote a comment about them in her interview notes, or didn't even notice them at all, I had enough talent, experience, or charisma that she invited me back. She also noted that she doesn't often immediately invite people back to a 2nd interview. Whether she tells everyone that or not, it was a confidence boost for me, and I appreciated it. Thank God for the little things.


Today's lesson: Don't cry over spilt milk...or ripped pantyhose. You'd only be wasting precious time.