Tips for Your Interview With a Celebrity

Hiking here? Expect a fly-by from a LAPD chopper

Twice now I've interviewed to work for a celebrity, and I've learned a few things. Maybe you'd like some pointers for the next time you interview for a job working for a celebrity?

Be prepared to sign contracts before you even start talking about the job. For example, in preparation for my first interview with a celeb, I signed a stack of NDAs and vowed I would never speak about the movie star working next door. Nevermind the fact I never met the movie star next door nor would I ever. But, ya know, oaths of silence are the norm 'round these parts.

Be on time and ready to wait. The unofficial motto of the entertainment industry is "Hurry Up And Wait." It's a statement so heavy with truth, it's likely to be found on the backside of the world famous Hollywood sign.

While you're waiting, look pretty and KEEP YOUR PHONE STOWED AWAY. Why? Odds you're being filmed while you're waiting, especially if said interview is taking place in the celeb's home. Now is not the time to upload a photo of your potential new boss' coffin coffee table (true story!).

Don't expect a handshake. Or eye contact. Or a smile. A lot of celebs ain't into reaching out and touching the common folk. For example, on my last interview, I rose to greet the celeb and was immediately told, "Don't get up." Whatevs. I prefer to sit anyway.

Do expect some trash talk. But don't you dare be the one dishing it. This is a tough town, and people are amazingly candid with their opinions--positive and negative--of others. Your celeb may talk a little smack about your former employer; you, however, should just smile and nod. That's what I did, and it worked like a charm.

Whatever you do, remember the universe revolves around them.

Now, go get 'em! And please report back to me with stories. Goodness knows I've got them in spades.

Truth

I started a new job yesterday. And, as you might expect, it's brought up a whole host of questions. My last job started with much potential and hope, yet it ended in a cul-de-sac. I made good friends and learned that, despite my prior desires, I do not want to spend the rest of my days as a copywriter. So that was a much-needed experience.

Back to the new gig. The people are so incredibly lovely. I can't imagine my good fortune at working with such smart and kind people, including my boss. On paper, my boss really is all you could want for a boss. I say on paper because I hardly know my line-manager at this point. Oh, sure, I know things like children's names and after-work plans. I know frequent flier numbers and credit card details. I know that we drive the same car and share the exact same birthday (odd). But that's about it. How my boss reacts to stress? Not sure yet. To my mistakes? Thankfully I have to learn that one in the coming days. To disappointment? Nada. So it's a paper trail and a handful of conversations I have to go on. So far, my boss seems to be Wonderboss.

May I break for a short disclaimer? You won't mind, I hope. I've no idea of this blog's readership. I hope to increase it...maybe. But for now, it's a purely personal space, one that is admittedly self-indulgent. I'm not aiming to meet deadlines so that I can share the latest finds from the glorious Internet; I'm just writing. And I hope now that I'm in this new job--in this new lifestyle--I'll write here more frequently. So, with that in mind, I'm keeping some things very vague. I'd be devastated to air someone else's personal struggle here.

Anyhoo, the weeks leading up to my first day, I had a few nightmares about my new job. The most common issue my sleeping mind struggled over was how cool I am. Seriously. You'd think my mind--sleeping or awake--could tackle more pressing issues, but that's what bothered me. To many, my boss is ultra "cool," and this intimidated me. I could go into detail, but I'll just say when I got access to Wonderboss' rolodex, all my suspicions were confirmed: Wonderboss is the ultimate tastemaker for some, the supreme last word on matters of music for others, and a bit of an idol for a handful. I, on the other hand, am the walking antithesis of Wonderboss.

WB--may I call my boss that?--is a grounded person. Case in point, upon my arrival at the office yesterday, I was given WB's desk...by WB. Where did WB sit? On the desk adjacent to mine because, you guessed it, I was sitting in WB's chair. WB is proud to drive an older Honda Civic. WB flies coach. WB is a hands-on parent. All of these things, WB does with a manner of humility.

I, on the other hand, am wrestling with humility. And it is Wonderboss who has unknowingly pointed that out.

You see, I am sometimes ashamed when I pull up to a valet stand in my 2002 Honda Civic. I blush when people figure out I am 33 and not married/not a parent/not even in a blasted relationship. I want to rush through the conversation when people ask me what I do for a living. Somehow, I've become embarrassed of my life. Yet I chose, and continue to make choices, to live this life. I chose to stay in LA, which led to forgoing a job writing for someone else, which led to taking an executive assistant job with Wonderboss. I asked for this. So why am I blushing and coveting Audis?

In the end, I can only answer by acknowledging I have put my faith in the backseat. Maybe something else drives you; for me, faith in God is my true north. And I can assure you that God doesn't care one bit about the car I drive or what my title is.

We're all struggling to fit in our own skin, I suppose. Some just hide it better than others.

Photo is from the album cover, "All Is Wild, All Is Silent" by the band Balmorhea.

On Monday of this week I returned home from a trip to St. Louis to visit some friends from Belfast, St. Louis and a good pal from LA. (I'll detail that adventure later when I have pics.)

A couple of days before I left for my 12 hour drive to St. Louis, I went on an interview for a job at a bank. My temp agency described the job as a "direct marketing position" and strongly suggested that I interview because I would probably enjoy the people and the atmosphere once I met them. I don't know what part of "I'm probably not the best candidate for this position" translated to mean "I just love driving 45 minutes to an hour to sit at a cubicle bathed in fluorescent light while doing data entry for a small but very corporate bank." But, there I was, making the 45-minute commute while my crisp white shirt wilted in the summer heat.

As I suspected, the atmosphere was so not charming or inspiring or pretty like my temp agency suggested. Also, that direct marketing talk must have been code for entry-level assistant answering phones for 4 people and doing loads of grunt work. I knew once I sat down in a conference room that could have doubled as a set for the movie 9-5, this wasn't the place for me. But the thing is, my temp agency, clever people that they are, told me that this lady sitting across from me had said some rather unkind things about my resume, particularly regarding the length of my most-recent job in Belfast. I won't bore you with details, but her condescending remarks sparked a fire in my belly to prove myself and the awesomeness of that two-paged document in front of her.

The conversation started something like this:

"So I see that you lived in Ireland. Why were you only there a year?"

"Yes, I lived in Northern Ireland. I had a one-year visa that expired in January of this year."

"And why were you there only one year?"

"Because my visa expired and the terms of my visa stated that I had to leave the country by the expiration date of my visa. In January."

"Hmmm. Well, I also see that you have worked in some very exciting places. I've been in banking for 25 years and I can say that it is not exciting work. It can be very dull at times. Why do you want to go into banking?"

editor's note: I do not want to go into banking.

"I like the challenge of marketing an intangible service. Banking is a service industry that ultimately is selling trust. You can't package trust or put trust in a consumer's hands, but choosing a bank is one of the most important consumer decisions a person will ever make."

I then went on to talk about local banks and the importance of being part of a community and being able to do business with someone you could shake hands with in your hometown - not in New York or Hong Kong.

At the close of my answer, I half-expected a woman in her early twenties dressed in a gorgeous ball gown to walk through the glass doors of the conference room and hand me a trophy, similar to a Golden Globes Girl gliding across the stage to deliver an award to Julia Roberts. But no woman interrupted our meeting and I continued to feign interest in this position that was "designed for someone just out of college with no experience but with a lot of aspiration."

After my interview and personality test, I met with an executive in HR. As introductions were made I wondered, "maybe now I get my trophy for such a brilliant performance back in the conference room - I mean, why else would I be meeting this really important person?"

At the close of my interview, the marketing guru with 100 years of experience in the very dull world of banking asked me if I needed to go to the "little girls room." I said no thank you and promptly dialed my temp agency to say that I probably wasn't the best candidate for this position.

I think they finally got the point. They haven't called since.