So the night before my Business Valuation exam back in December I get a call from a woman in L'Oreal New York's human resources department asking if I might be interested in attending their annual "Taste of L'Oreal" recruiting weekend in January 2011, which apprears to be their main method of getting MBA interns. Turns out I get to head back to NYC the third weekend of January.
What also worked out even better, though, was that my father's 70th birthday party was the Sunday of the same weekend. This meant that after the final interview was over I could take the train north to Providence and surprise him -- while also meeting up with my sister, Monte, my mother and all their friends. Just unbelievably amazing timing.
So a couple Thursdays ago I fly back to New York, land at JFK, pass through my least favorite room in the world, take the train into the city, check into the Doubletree and have an interesting night out on Lexington Avenue at a bar Kollmorgen recommended. Meet a rather interesting fashion designer. Fun night, though at -15C cold as s%&#.
I hate you. So much.
Thanks for the rec, Kollmorgen.
New York: always just so lovely in the winter
Friday I do a little shopping ($1800 for a blazer? really? oh, sorry... a "piece") and move my stuff over to the W Hotel, where the girls running the event give us each a bag full of L'Oreal mens' products. Actually some semi-cool stuff. A big bottle of the new Ralph Lauren "Black" cologne that I actually dig. Various balms. Some ointment. A bar of Kiehl's "Ultimate Man" body scrub soap. Which I clearly need a lot more of.
Only disappointment was that the bag also included a facebook which showed all the candidates' photos, email, and school name -- such schools as Kellogg, Stern, HBS, etc. However, for me alone they simply wrote "European Business School". Thanks for the effort, guys. One other candidate joked "Haha... I thought maybe London Business School had just been going through crazy growth recently."
Really, L'Oreal?
Rest of the weekend goes fine if not a bit draining mentally. Being convincingly enthusiastic about a styling spray or nail care product for eight hours straight with assessors "hmm"'ing your ideas turns out to not be the simplest thing, and by the end of the day I'm pretty certain that I'd have a tough time doing the job for more than a summer. No knock against the company, but shockingly there's a bottom to even my own well of bullshit.
"It's... ahm... a pretty... woman?"
Sunday was the formal interview, which seemed to go fine though including one of those "see how he responds to an attack" questions, along with a review of the ad above and such beauties like: "What do you personally find beautiful?" and "Tell us about a product that you think is beautiful". Answers: "Sunset over my home island in the summer with a small plane buzzing overhead, my family and a gin & tonic", and "the new Audi A6", respectively. I'm pretty sure they wanted to call security.
Later I manage to take a train north from NYC to Kingston where Katie, Monte, and my parents are there to pick me up at the station. I'd been hoping to surprise dad at the restaurant but whatever, it was still so damn good to see him, and the guy couldn't have been in a better mood. We have an incredibly warm, laughing dinner out downtown at the same place where we'd been for another birthday of his back in 2006. Almost the exact same crowd with the Prices, Hills and others all there. Just so damn happy that Katie & Monte are building a house next to ours on Block Island.
Amazing how different life feels after only four years.
Monday my flight back gets delayed by four hours, which vanish almost instantly as I discover the addictiveness of "Angry Birds": the mainline heroin of portable gaming.
Now on to the Mobile World Congress and trying to figure out plans for the summer. Dublin or London? Plus the surprise for the school on March 10. Can't wait.
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