Another thing that I have gotten very used to over the past few years are first dates. They are also full of social and potential economic peril. They impact emotional and psychological well-being. In person, via text or even those maligned dating apps, they are awkward, tension filled and absolutely uncomfortable.
It struck me how absolutely the same these two experiences are this week, as I changed clothes three times before an interview. A suit was too much. Khakis? - no. Jeans but which ones, distressed, label or the ones that feel the best. Has to be a long sleeve button up.
Polos are for when you have the gig or golfing. A sport jacket with jeans can be trendy or lazy. Shoes? Don't even start. Comfy or sending a message. Socks? Does anyone even see you socks? Who looks at socks?
Maybe this is the socks interview and I will mess it up. Fine. Noticeable but bland. Colors not characters. What you want them to know you're a geek? But the gig has numbers, so maybe you DO want geekness. But not R2D2 socks geeky. Maybe something with science. Do we have those? God, I hate math.
As I settled on jeans that I felt good in, the button up that I last felt success in, the boxers that I love (no on sees these but it matters), and vibrant but not geeky socks, sensible shoes that are bluetooth connected to my app so I can provide number proof to my "hard work" or at least "steps" - I came to the following revelation.
This combination was the same thing I wore on my most recent first date.
Is this just my go-to comfy outfit? Does this same more about me that the date went fine but I didn't pursue things further? Since this is the combination of my moderate success but ultimate avoidance, am I setting myself up for the same in this interview? Do I clearly overthink every little dog gamn thing?
So I changed shirts. The interview went well. I think. But I always think the interview/date/conversation goes well at first. It's the ego. Then the id takes the film back to the back of the brain and like a psychotic coach analyzes each moment by the second. The id tears the performance apart.
The following day, I returned to the first outfit combination. Partly to try some new magic sauce and partly because sweat is a thing. Interview went well also.
The id did it's thing. Tore holes in the confidence and revised history to make certain that some jokes maybe didn't hit or that something was a bit out of bounds. This gives the id and its nightly mind terror minions plenty of ammo. They can craft a story based roughly in facts and yet toss in new levels of destruction.
Each night after the interview, the id took that info and turned it into a failed date night terror. In one, I had a stroke after a date on the walk home and my family posted on social media that I was in the hospital. (please don't do this family). So every woman I had dated in the past two years showed up to my bedside as I was in a coma. My id made sure that what I overheard trapped in the coma was them comparing stories about how bad the first date was. Thanks id.
The next night it was a first date that went good then bad. Much like the oldies tune of falling asleep at the drive in movie, "Wake Up Little Susie" this resulted in the couple falling asleep at a brewery, waking up and setting off the alarm, with the male portion of the duo being dragged off in handcuffs (not the fun way) for industrial espionage when it was revealed he had connections to a competitor.
As a fun bonus, both nights included the same brunette in blue scrubs. Some one that I couldn't place from reality, entertainment or literature. So, part of me is convinced I will meet her someday. Nice little twist of the knife there, id.
So what does all this mean? Are interviews the same as first dates? Roughly, yes. Does my id deserve some sort of contract with the CW to turn my torturous dreams into a teen dramedy? Also, yes.
Life is full of weird and awkward moments. Two of the worst I have recently experienced are interviews and first dates. But as always, my id remains undefeated in creating terrors worse than reality.
And next time I'm wearing the full on geeky socks.
