Do any of these jobseeker personalities ring any ALARM bells with you? You've probably interviewed a few of these if you're a line manager yourself. If you're a recruiter, you've definitely come up against them. Check out our WORST 11 job-seeker personalities here:
Oh, Dan. Dan’s flung his CV over to circa 49 different corporations in the last 2 ½ months of the 6 that he has been jobless. His name has been flagged as spam across 46 of those organisations and he’s been blocked by over 12 separate job boards for bogus applications. Do you ever quit Dan? He would do absolutely ANYTHING for an imminent job offer. There’s no question that he’s living up to his reputation of being utterly desperate for a job and he evidently isn’t handling it all that well. He attends every job show in existence, appears at every company open day and he’s even gone as far as to gate-crash countless Christmas parties with the undeniable hope that his newfound pals will love him enough to offer him his next position.
Sally reckons she can foresee the future, mainly where her career is concerned. She believes everything happens for a reason and does some reasonably radical things to facilitate her philosophies. For example, she was sauntering to work one blustery morning, mid-October and a bird plummeted from the sky, as if out of nowhere, landing on the footpath ahead of her before plucking up its twig-like legs and hopping into the distance. She immediately handed in her resignation and progressed to a volunteering role at the local RSPB because, unfortunately, they didn’t have any jobs available at Head Office. Needless to say, she didn’t last long on no money, but she didn’t care because, you know, psychic and that.
Al is just the wickedest brand of the jobseeker. He fundamentally considers himself remarkable and anyone who expresses any different gets threatened with legal action for bruising his perfectly coiffed ego. Al thinks he’s so notable that he shuns the notion of the CV in favour of his dazzling character, particularly social events. He’s that networker who is schmoozing so rigorously that his tongue is ascending so far skyward to locations it should not that he could doubtlessly catch a lick of Chad’s lunch and potentially a drop of his most recent coffee. He believes he’s a passive job-seeker but he’s not, he’s just a Class A prat.
Poor Nita. She’s been made redundant from the only job she’s ever known which she commenced 35 years prior to her current job-seeking state and she doesn’t cope well. With no tangible awareness of what modern day job-seeking comprises, she turns up to interviews with a bunt cake and a personalised tin of homemade oat crumbles that she baked based on her interviewers star sign. She still wears a bonnet on the weekends and has a budding collection of approximately 27 petticoats which she rotates according to the season, day and occasion. Bless her, she’s so anxious that she can’t sip her coffee without a dribble down her chin and she stumbles over her words like a doe staggers over rogue branches in the woods at dusk.
Sue doesn’t say a lot. When I say a lot, I mean, we aren’t sure she can speak but we know she isn’t classified dumb. Sue has a wonderful CV, but she’s so technologically advanced thanks to her Computer Science degree from HARVARD that she’s failed to acquire any basic social skills, talking and interacting with other humans being the main issue in Sue’s case. Interviews are uncomfortable to say the least but deliver her a coding task and she absolutely hammers it! Her rare and desirable skills land her every job role she’s ever sought and she probably holds the world record for ‘Most Successful Interviews Held In Total Silence’.
The cardinal sin of interviewing: relentless bitching. Moaning Morris moans about his old boss till the cows come home, has horrendous issues with the company’s health insurance policy and seems to exhibit severe trauma surrounding the lack of snack selection in the old building’s canteen. Morris is a total bore of an interview and doesn’t realise that all the interviewer is thinking at any one time is, ‘What will Morris say about me when he leaves?’. Morris. So naïve. He can’t help himself. As if that’s not enough, the interview sluggishly morphs into a counselling session where he reverts his attention to the ball and chain that is his married life. He rambles on for the last 25 minutes of the interview, on how his wife bans him from Thirsty Thursday’s so that she can attend knitting school and that it’s an unmitigated liberty that she doesn’t pre-prepare dinner in her absence. No one likes Moaning Morris. He’s a drain on emotional resources.
We aren’t sure we trust Henry. He’s far too cheerful to be British and we, in turn, are cynical towards him (naturally). He breezes into the meeting room like a leprechaun on morphine and plants his pert little behind on the chair like a wasp to chips on a beer-garden Sunday. Henry is one of those people you witness on the tube with a perma-smile. Henry is the person that forces you to disembark the train at the next possible stop and wait 3 whole minutes for the following service. I feel bad. We need to give Henry a crumb of credit. He illuminates the day for those souls who have enough evidence to understand that he’s not a total psychopath and regard him as a refreshing change from the misery of their friends and co-workers.
Chloe is so ruddy intelligent that it’s problematic to communicate with her on a base human level. You will never have heard so many words with over 15 characters in the same sentence in your LIFE and she will leave you with the sensation of feeling wholly and completely worthless to mankind. Her CV looks like it’s been written by the Citizens Advice Bureau and her vocabulary is so esteemed that you wouldn’t doubt she spent a chunk of her childhood on the Sandringham estate with Liz and Phil. Whilst she may be a member of Mensa, Chloe’s intelligence can occasionally serve as a disadvantage. Employers are so ludicrously intimidated by her that they don’t dare hire her for dread of losing their own jobs.
Chris hasn’t got a clue what’s going on. Ever. You’d be lucky if he could tell you what day it was and don’t even bother asking him for the time. Chris thinks job-seeking is simple. He reckons you just stride into any static building in Central London, beam at the reception on your way through the barriers and pull up a pew at the first free desk you unearth. He also thinks that salary is physically paid by flyer pigeon and that HR is a rare tropical disease. Chris was never going to get that far when the first thing he ever asked at interview was ‘do you take cash or card’. Poor Clueless Chris.
Grant drains the life and soul out of every party and is never gratified with any job he takes. He doesn’t even get enthusiastic over an offer call and tells virtually no one apart from his Nan when it comes to career movements. Nan is about the only person that receives the tiny smidgen of good that Grant has to offer. He reduces interviewers to tears with stories of unfair dismissals and his childhood weight problem but despite all of this, Grumpy Grant is pretty decent at what he does. He gets offers because interviewers know that he’s probably too miserable to mess around when the Directors are out, and he will definitely be one less head to pay for at the Christmas party. Winner.
Everyone has a punctual friend. That’s Pete for you. He turns up, at least, half an hour early for everything just because he need to factor in contingency time and his reaction upon realising he’s late verges on feral. Pete is sat in reception for approximately 45 minutes pre-interview. If that’s not shocking enough, it gets worse. If the interview runs even 30 seconds over the specified time the recruiter quoted him, Pete lifts his little finger to silence said employer and scoots out of the room like a scuttling crab.
If you don't resemble any of these extreme personalities, why don't you browse some of our Marketing jobs for a new challenge? If you need any help at all, don't hesitate to check out our careers advice section too!