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My Interview with the NSA
If I need any motivation for continuing to work for myself, I only need to remember the feelings I had during campus job interviews during my Senior year of college. The pacing in the hall, the sleepless nights, the twisted stomach, I'd get so anxious I'd feel like I would vomit while shaking hands with the interviewer. Barf on the shoes is not the impression you want to give to a prospective employer. I never performed well in any of these on-campus interviews.
I was graduating with a degree in Electrical Engineering (can't spell geek without EE) from the University of Michigan. An attractive degree to employers, but I was graduating in one of the worse job markets in decades. My grades were good, but I didn't have a good idea of what I wanted to do. My specialty had been signal processing, and one of the employers that needed that specialty was the National Security Agency. These are the guys that eavesdrop on all your conversations, break your codes and other geeky spy things.
I thought it would be a cool job to have, little did I know that it would be the shortest job interview ever.
My allotted time came, and I made one last pace in the bathroom before making my way to the interview room. A nice gentleman greeted me and asked me to sit down. He said, "Before we get started there are some questions I have to ask."
I'm thinking, "This is a job interview. Isn't that what you're supposed to do? I'm so happy I didn't vomit." Yes, I was a smart ass even in my anxious state.
He asks me, "First of all, do you have any family from a foreign country?"
I can trace relatives to Revolutionary War times and to American Indians. I'm about as American as they come. I reply, "No family from foreign countries."
"Any friends from foreign countries?" he asks. "Yes," I reply. "Ah, what country?"
"Iran"
He drops the pencil he had been fiddling with, "Who do you know from there?"
"My girlfriend."
He stands up. "Well, thanks for stopping by. If you ever have a change in status, please let us know."
It takes me a few seconds to realize the interview is over. I stand up and shake his hand then leave the room. I always have a sense of relief after the interviews are over. No matter how well or poorly they go. Just being done with it drains the anxiety away. A short interview like this makes me euphoric, until I realize the guy is probably dialing the FBI setting up a file for a "Mr. Brian Briggs at the University of Michigan."
Thankfully, I never had any "change in status" or any other contact with the NSA (that I know of). I did eventually get a "real job" about ten months later, which is another funny story I'll share at a later time. Filed under Musings by Brian - Thu Dec 1, 2005 @ 12:00 AM (Permalink - Discuss) |
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