The recruiter’s love story
She was beautiful – curly bright hair, light green eyes, a nice body, a clever chick. And I still can’t believe she actually promised she would always be there for me.
I mean she knew I was struggling, she knew I needed a job, she knew how my career was important for me, and she said she could understand.
She would call me every day – asking how I was holding up, what I had done the previous night, and how I was doing with the interview steps. She would text me, email me, meet me every time I did and didn’t need her. And I did believe it was all real.
She assured me I would get the job, that she would do whatever in her power to help me out and guide me through.
Then she disappeared – no more texts, no more calls, no more meeting up. Was she interested in somebody else?
I tried. I did my best to be patient and wait, to follow up nicely. It was a waste of hope.
I failed at getting the job. And she failed me.
The last time we met – just to quickly catch up and finalise some details – I gave her a last heartbroken goodbye. She didn’t even flinch; she didn’t move a finger until I stood up with anger and made my way to the door.
“Wait, please!”, she yelled and took my hand.
“What now, Samantha?”, I said visibly bothered.
“Can I retain your details for future opportunities?”
The Britalian Post