“Sorry, Mr. Thompson, but we won’t be taking you forward to the next stage of the interview…” said the sharply dressed woman who had been conducting the morning’s aptitude tests.
“Ok. Thanks for letting me know.” I replied, my heart not quite sinking to the depths it had often sunk to last year, when I had first begun searching for a career after finishing my education. Those early rejections were pretty heavy, but after 11 months of being rebuffed by sharply dressed men and women, I’d sort of gotten used to them.
I picked up my blazer and turned to leave. As I did, I asked the woman what I had asked almost every interviewer previously.
“Oh, before I go… you couldn’t tell me what it was that let me down, could you?”
Her reply contained no surprises: “Of course. I’m sorry to say that you failed the maths aptitude test. Oh, and there…
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