My dad mentioned that I was looking for a job to a basketball budy of his. This guy knew I had sales experience, and said he had a great opportunity for me. So through my fathers friend, I was set up to interview with Stryker Medical. Now Stryker differs from past interviews because its a Fortune 500 company and an awesome place to be employed.
I was totally pumped about the interview after I spoke with the regional manager that would be interviewing me. He was a young, energetic guy who told me he was looking for a sales assistant that would learn the ropes for a few months and eventually train to became an official Sales Rep. My pay as an assistant would be $45,000, with a $500/weekly expense account and a $5000 bonus if my rep hit his/her goal.
So far so good, right? Fortune 500 Company. Great Pay. Quick Advancement. Energetic Management. All for smoozing with some doctors and selling medical supplies to them? It seemed Michael Conti had finally arrived.
I looked and felt great heading into the interview. I wanted to nail the damn thing. Hunter, the regional manager, was a good guy who was really easy to talk to. We talked about my college experiences, past jobs, and the normal interview routine.
I think the interview started going downhill when Hunter actually said,
"If you can't stand the smell of burning flesh, this job may not be for you."
"Well I'm not around burning flesh very often, so I don't really know."
Hunter thought that funny for some reason (which scared me). So he chuckled, and then went on to explain what the job entailed.
"Basically everyday you'll be sitting in with a surgeon while they perform
facial trauma surgeries. In the middle of surgery the doctor will turn to you
and say 'Hey Conti, this bone is smashed into 4 different pieces...what kind of
screw do your recommend using?' You'll look at the bone and pull out the proper
screw, which ususally costs about $750. And that's how you make your money. "
I don't know why I didn't run like hell right then. He went on...
"There are some days I come home covered in blood. I don't mean too, but
in the middle of surgery sometimes the doctor will shout 'oh shit!' and all the
sudden the blood will squirt out of the patient all over me."
Are you kidding me? I'm an ADVERTISING MAJOR! My college career consisted of sitting around thinking of funny things to say and critiquing Super Bowl commercials.
"And it's important that you know your shit. You need to know every single
bone in the face. If you don't know that shit when the doctor asks you
something, then the doctor has to take more time with you, the surgery lasts
longer, the patient is under anesthesia longer. And that means he's
more likely to die."
At this point I was so shocked I just kept nodding my head and saying 'cool'. Cool? Coooool? BEING RESPONSIBLE FOR SOMEONE'S DEATH IS NOT COOL. BEING COVERED IN BLOOD IS NOT COOL. SNIFFING BURNING FLESH IS NOT COOL. No this was all way uncool.
After an hour of hearing all this the interview finally ended. I wasn't born to do this. I needed a nap. I also needed a job that didn't consist of facial trauma. Dr. Mario is one thing. Throwing color-coded pills at crazy virus-things is more my medical expertise. I just need to find out which company's gonna pay me 50k to do that.