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Farewell Philly (For Good)

Back from Philadelphia, after a whirlwind week of up and down emotions. I think it all worked out for the best, to be honest. I interviewed along with 10 other prospective employees on Tuesday, got offered the job a day later, attempted to negotiate compensation, and then basically had the job offer revoked in a terse one-line email. At the same time, I got offered a highly compensated document review position by the reputable temp agency that should last 3-4 weeks.

Basically, I asked Philly interviewer (a partner at the firm) whether the (very low) offer was negotiable, citing my experience and the current market rate and whether there were other benefits available, all while expressing enthusiasm for the position. The response?

"I appreciate your concerns, but the compensation is not negotiable. I wish you all the best, X"

Prior to my inquiring about the negotiability of the offer, I figured the worst they could say was that the offer stood as previously stated. But, wow. What is that about? Since when does simple valid questions about salary negotiation lead to such rudeness? If the email had said: "Sorry, there's no room for negotiation. Please let me know if you still want the position," then, fine. But "I wish you all the best"? A de facto "eff off"?

I'm kind of happy, oddly, despite the surprising ending. At least, starting Monday, I'll be making some money and will finally have a decent position to put on my resume, that was much better than the "You must start Tuesday" position.

So, I'm wondering whether to email back to another one of the partners, who went to my undergraduate alma mater about the interviewer's response and brush off. Or else, contact law school (where the opportunity was posted) about the way firm conducts business. Does this make sense? Further action desireable, or just forget about it entirely? I'm 50/50 at this point. I could use your advice.

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Being back in Philly had its highs and lows. I think I'll only return there for brief business trips and personal business. No more job hunting. I had some good food and drink and got to see friends I hadn't seen since last May. I also got flashed outside a Wawa, preventing my entrance (oh Wawa, why have you forsaken me?) and watched No Country for Old Men, which has been giving me nightmares ever since. The best story was my pre-interview one:

I was in a Starbucks right next to the office building just relaxing before my interview when 20 minutes prior to the time, I decided to check my makeup in the bathroom. So I ask the cashier for the key to the ladies' room, but he tells me someone is in there, so I wait outside.

Disheveled man leaves ladies' room. A burst of marijuana smoke. I spy a joint in the john and really don't relish smelling like backstage at a 311 concert (Dated reference, yes I know. What recent bands have a pot-smoking rep? I'm not "with it" these days...) before interviewing. I check the men's room and it's open.

'Bout to drop trou and large, well-dressed dude peers in, stunned to see me. I explain the ganja incident and he says he'll be only a second. Um, okay, I guess I'm being dismissed from the men's room. Not being a man and not desiring to argue, I let him in and wait outside again.

He leaves. Pee EVERYWHERE. I make do with using the Starbucks glass door to reapply my lip gloss.

Oh, but Flicka's safe. I left her in a suburb of Philadelphia, not tempting fate. Yay.

Full post as published by Wicked Words on February 01, 2008 (boomark / email).