So, my visit to ------------

by Rudd-O published 2007/09/12 21:21:14 GMT+0, last modified 2013-06-26T03:24:28+00:00

By now, you and my friends probably know I went to ------------ to interview for a very interesting position at ------------.

While I'm obviously keeping the details under wraps, I can tell you the following about the trip.

First off, I have never in my life seen so many gorgeous women in such a short time. Just strolling downtown of ------------ for 20 minutes I saw more candidates to supermodels than I've ever seen decently groomed women in my country's streets. Now hold on for just a second, because I'm about to tell you why that was not important during my trip.

Second: the interview process was grueling. We covered from ------------ to ------------, quite a bit of ------------ ------------ and the hardest part was when I got grilled by ------------ and ------------ on ------------ ------------ (the answer was a ------------ ------------ in a ------------ of ------------ ------------). I personally know of zero people who could have answered the questions reliably -- and I must confess I answered most of them with fear of mistakes in my heart.

(No, I will never reveal them. It is my understanding that these types of interviews do a great job of weeding out candidates in no small part because they don't cover common ground.)

Third, ------------ is really a party of cool people. If you want a challenging job, and you're willing to move to the First World to get it, you should definitely interview at ------------. Not only that, but in contrast to popular perception of ------------s, they were a diverse bunch of heartwarming and welcoming people. If you want to be in, and you want to stop being soft-pedaled, ------------ is definitely the place to be in.

And ------------ is proof that Linux skills are in high demand. And I'm not throwing around high demand like it's a catchphrase. I really mean it.

Well, back to the gorgeous women talking point. Heck, an extremely gorgeous woman (Gabriela was her name, and I'm infinitely grateful) offered to go out of her way to help me around the airport and the main train station. She actually had her (rather not young!) mother wait for her while she helped me get train tickets! She was the truly living example of ------------ hospitality.

I guess I should have asked her for her phone number. But I didn't.

Because of an italian girl. As soon as I got on the plane, I scoured for familiar faces. Finding none, I just turned to (what I thought to be) the next best thing: a naturally pretty girl who seemed to be in her early twenties. Someone to talk to, with the express purpose of avoiding the 20-hour boredom that ensues on transcontinental flights. No battery on my Palm, right?

And, you know what? Conversation just flowed from there. She told me what she did for a living (answer: it's nothing you selfish bastards would ever do, even if you got paid millions of dollars). She turned out to be italian (I originally had her penned down as an eastern european girl; there goes my nationality radar). She turned out to be older than me (and I thought I had great genes, but the bunch of grey hairs in my forehead strongly suggests otherwise). She turned out to be an economy postgraduate. She said it, but I already knew it: "Behind these glasses, there's real substance, you know?".

She destroyed several ideas I had about people in general. I hate when people do that to me, but I have to welcome it. All in all, she's living proof that first impressions count for shit.

I don't know why, but I find myself missing her just enough to be thrown off-balance. I mean, she's the complete opposite of ... me? She's generous, giving and she's actually fulfilled by what she does. She's urban, but she ain't afraid of getting her hands dirty while getting down to what she does for a living. She's not a supermodel, but she's really pretty. She knows the world, and she could own it (in the conventional sense of the expression) if she went for it. And she does (in her very own sense). I respect that.

Let's just hope she finds herself reading this. I've seen the interblags do much weirder things for people before, so why not count on serendipity tonight?

You know what? I'm gonna go back to just listening italodance -- after all, I'm gonna talk to her at some point. And I'm friggin' exhausted from the trip, so unleash the vodka!

The bit about the vodka was a figurative expression. But... come on, come clean and raise your hand if you can't count on Stoli!