Ummm...Not So Much

It turns out that if you google my name, you can find this blog. But you first have to weed through 3 pages of research papers and the CVs of my thesis advisors. Given that, I figure its pretty safe to give you the story of my Austin job interview.

I left Wednesday morning and was tired as hell (but happy -- another story for another day). I made it to the airport on time for my flight, and got to sit in Economy plus. Not bad -- an extra head cushion and a comfy amount of leg room.


Once in Austin, I got my rental car, a Chevy Malibu, and was on the road by 4:30. Unfortunately, I was on one of the busiest highways in Austin at rush hour.
After an hour of bumper to bumper traffic, I pulled into the Holiday Inn Express.


As I was checking in, a man in a chair behind me introduced himself as my Austin tour guide/real estate agent. Having only an hour for the tour, I knew I wasn't going to see much. The agent was pleasant enough, but just drove me around suburbia for an hour, stopping at one house. I was amazed by what my proposed salary would buy in Austin (3 bedrooms, patio, 2 car garage, kitchen with island. Mmmm.....kitchen island). The problem was that he kept using words like "professional", "family-oriented", and "quiet" as though they were selling points. Obviously the email I sent saying that I was single, would sacrifice space for style and location, and needed a big kitchen did not have the desired impact. Shoulda gone with "I'm a big ole queer and I want a lair down by the gay bars."

I took a quick shower, shaved, and was knotting my tie when the phone rang, heralding the arrival of my dinner companion, one of the researchers at the company. He said, through a fairly thick accent, "Do you mind the Village Inn? My friend said it was good."

Some of you may be cracking up already. For the rest of you, the Village Inn is a slight, and I do mean slight, notch above Denny's. Plastic menu, no booze, and nothing on the menu over $10. I ordered the most expensive dinner -- the over-cooked, liquid smoked sirloin with french fries. I'm not asking for Ruth's Chris here, but come the f*** on.

One of his colleagues arrived a little late. After we ordered, the grilling began -- and I don't mean the steak. Usually, the pre-interview dinner is meant to let you get to know people and put you at ease. Instead, I got the inquisition. And not about my experience or skills -- they wanted to know why I was leaving medicine, why I would be willing to take a pay cut, and how long I would stay at the job (the one I hadn't been offered yet).

They briefly considered dessert, but figured I "would want to get home and work on my talk". Right. I printed out note pages of my slides and then headed downtown. I was playing pool at The Mix on Tuesday and two people, including Ian of Badlands fame, told me I should go to Oil Can Harry's -- so I did.

Unfortunately, like most gay bars at 2100 on Wednesday, it was dead. But the space had a lot of promise for a fun night out, and it was WARM, evoking pleasant memories of my life in Atlanta. I miss being able to wear shorts comfortably at night.

I had a drink, walked around a bit, and made it back to the hotel by 2300, at which point I did polish off my slides and go to bed.


The next morning was my talk. Honestly, I think I slam-dunked it. I actually remembered all the transitional things I wanted to say in between slides, and I finished in about 40', which is what they had scheduled. They asked some good questions, which usually means they had (1) understood it and (2) been interested.

The next interview was with a group of the younger, i.e., my age, scientists. It was fun, but I was starting to feel in the minority. Of the five scientists I had met, all were foreign nationals -- 4 Asian and 1 Russian/Eastern European. Pleasant enough, but I didn't feel like any of them were going to grab a beer and watch the game with me. Lunch was the best part of the day -- the project managers, who are engineers, took me to a Mexican restaurant called the Oasis that overlooks the lake (or what's left of it -- Austin, unlike me, is having a major drought). I could identify with these folks, and a couple of them even lived downtown and were giving me tips on places to live.
We were late getting back to lunch, so my interviews with the two scientists who had taken me to dinner were cut short. Thank God. Each of them went back to the money, and added an uncomfortable obsession with how much "bench work" I would be willing to do. One of them asked me if I would want to continue to practice medicine (BTW - he also mentioned that he really like the restaurant from the night before -- it was quiet and clean). When I told him I planned to get a Texas license and either moonlight or volunteer, he said, "I think you will be too busy if you take this job. You would not have time for that."

I know they were trying to find out if I would be committed to the job or if I would be leaving after a year or two for the greener pastures of medicine. Asking once, or even twice, would have been OK; unfortunately, they harped on this to the point of being rude. At one point, I actually had to say:

"Money's not all that important to me. I'm looking for a job I will like, and I can afford to take a pay cut if necessary. And given that 2 years ago I was working 100 hours a week, I find the idea that I can't work a full time job and moonlight on occasion laughable."

After that, I met the section head, who was really nice. I asked him why people were asking how much lab work I would do, and he said "I don't know. I don't see you in a lab doing experiments much. We need someone to be our immunology brain in project meetings and tell us what the issues are and how to solve them. The last thing I want to do here is open an immunology lab, and your time is too valuable. At most, we'd have you design an experiment so that we can outsource it." Thank God.

The last interview was with the guy who would be my boss, who went right back to the lab work. Turns out that they only need an immunologist for a few projects. They planned to fill the rest of my time with whatever tasks they needed for other projects. He tried to put a good spin on it, saying the other projects were "challenging" even to his most senior scientists, but the message was clear -- I could end up spending a good amount of my time setting up and running mind numbing assays. We said good-bye pleasantly enough. Then the fun began.

Despite expressing concern for my schedule, the last interviewer kept me until 15:10. My flight was at 16:50, and I had to go all the way across town again, return my rental car, and get to ticketing 45' ahead to check my bag. So I drove like a bat out of hell down 183. I made it, but by the time I realized I might have some time left, there were no more gas stations. So the folks in Austin got stuck with the tab for re-fueling the car at $6.50 a gallon. I felt a little bad, but they did the scheduling.

From the airport, I called the headhunter who had set this all up. I told her I didn't think they knew what they really wanted. She agreed, and said that it was part of the reason she had been unable to decribe the job better for me. I don't think I'll be taking a full time job with them, even if they offer it to me. I did remind her that I only work every other week, and could probably fly to Austin every once in a while to consult. We'll see.

On to Hawaii -- I leave on Sunday. I've never been, and I can't wait. If you know anyone nice there with whom I might have a drink, let me know.