Manager
Joined: 28 Dec 2009
Posts: 245
Given Kudos: 13
Location: New York City
Concentration: International Development, Social Enterprise
Schools:Wharton, Chicago, Columbia, NYU, Harvard, Stanford
Q48 V47
GPA: 3.6 - Ivy
Re: Calling All 2010 CBS Applicants (MERGED)
[#permalink]
17 Feb 2010, 20:27
Well, folks, I tried for you. I really did.
I put on my big-girl shoes. I got the second manicure of my entire life. I even washed my hair. But after writing a cheat sheet on my hand and engaging in flawless mirroring behaviors, I have nothing to show you for my trouble. Because my browser crashed as I was putting the final touches on the summary of my interview that I was writing for you guys. My notes are in the fancy handbag I returned to the store the next day. My dog ate my draft. I even washed my hands.
But because I care about you all this much [vague gesturing], I'm going to try to reproduce my experience for those of you who have yet to interview.
URIS HALL
I arrive ten minutes before the appointed time and sit on the benches outside the elevators. There are probably another eight applicants waiting with me, all suited up and trembling. I stare shamelessly, searching for the brand of GMAT Club on their souls. (If one of you was there, you hid The Mark well. I am afraid I did not.) They probably think I am a decoy applicant, sent by admissions to test their politesse.
Five minutes past the hour. I walk down a short corridor honeycombed with tiny offices. I enter my assigned room. It is surprisingly well lit for a Cave of Doom. My interviewer rises, shakes my hand, engages in a bit of small talk. We sit. There is a clock behind my head and a photograph of a skyscraper behind his. At least one of these things is nice to look at.
Tell me about yourself. -- It's impossible not to sound rehearsed when answering this question, though I've been told my fake British accent doesn't help. What can I say, I think it adds a certain air of dignity to my sordid past. In order to mitigate tales of said sordid past, I gloss entirely over my undergraduate experience and start with my employment history.
Why an MBA? -- HaHA! You think this question was your idea, Mr. Interviewer, but really I cleverly guided you to it.
Why Columbia? -- Does this question have word limits? No? Okay! Number one, I really appreciate... [an hour elapses] Number twenty-six: ...these streets will make you feel brand-new! Big lights will inspire you!
Can you give an example of teamwork or leadership? -- What if I told you I could give an example of... [meaningful pause] ...teamership. Eh? EH? High-five!
Can you talk about ethics? -- Indeed, old chap, I thertainly can. Itth a lovely county in England, to the northeatht of London. Pardon? Oh! ETHICS.
Talk about a time you've faced adversity. -- This one threw me off the most. I dunno. My life's had its share of trouble, but my professional adversities have been pretty banal and my personal adversities have been pretty, you know, personal. I err on the side of tear-jerking and tell him about that one time at band camp, then cleverly redirect to some of the cooler things on my resume. He probably thinks I am a decoy applicant, send by admissions to test his politesse.
What will you do if you can't go to b-school this year? -- I basically said I'd go to Transylvania and try to increase economic opportunity for young vampires. They're ostracized for their differences, you know. Even small donations go a long way to revive the vigor of a community, though of course ideally there would be a real infusion -- even a veritable torrent! -- of, ah, cash.
Do you have any questions? -- Oh questions. So so many of you.
The interview then turned more conversational and we were both surprised when time was up. Either that or he was a good faker. I left smiling. I feel at home there. I even rode the elevators up and down a few times. I really really do like Columbia.
So in summary, I've faithfully reproduced all the questions that were asked of me and may have altered an identifying detail or two for privacy's sake. That said, I'm having a mite to drink to salve the wounds that Wharton hath willfully and woefully inflicted 'pon my sensitive soul, so let me know if I seem to have embellished or forgotten anything. In the meantime, cheers!
And, you know:
Cheerio!