Time since last Internet usage: 2 days, 21 hours, 4 minutes and 28 seconds
‘Hello, Daisy, is it? I’m Jaz, from Cloud29 Productions,’ says a petite brunette with a pixie haircut as she strides across the lobby, clutching a clipboard.
‘Um, hi. I’m actually here to meet the managing director from E.D.S.M.,’ I say looking over at the building receptionist to see if she’s placed a call through to the wrong office.
‘Yes, yes,’ says the woman nodding. She points for me to sit back down in the waiting room and perches on the sofa next to me. ‘We’re filming E.D.S.M. for a fly-on-the-wall documentary about start-up companies. It’s for Channel 4 daytime, you know the type of thing: an hour-long programme where it jumps around three or four companies per episode, taking a week to tell someone’s story. We’re following a load of start-ups, of all different types, through their first year trading to see what pitfalls they get into and whether or not they make it.’
‘Great to know there’s job security here, then,’ I say, wondering what I’ve got myself into.
Jaz gasps. ‘Not that this company won’t make it. They’ve actually got loads of investors, and they’re bringing in lots of new people. It’s expanding pretty fast and it’s great for us production-wise as there’s always something going on.’
‘Like an interview,’ I say, trying to smile when really I wish I’d had some advanced warning, as I’d have applied a bit more powder. Any I had on, I sweated off on the train with nerves.
‘Exactly. Now we’ll just need you to sign the consent forms to say you’re happy for us to film you.’
‘And what if I’m not?’ I say, really not comfortable.
‘A marketing manager who’s not comfortable being filmed? I’m not sure that that would go down too well.’
Jaz is smiling at me, with the kind of smile that knows I’ve got no option other than to do exactly what she says.
I scribble the best signature that my nerves will allow.
‘Great. Let’s get going. Now, when you get upstairs, the cameras are set up to record your initial meet and greet, so just act natural.’
I take a deep breath as she ushers me into the lift and up to the fourteenth floor. I knew I’d have more than the usual interview nerves, due to my lack of confidence after being fired, but being filmed has edged me past nerves into full-on jittery.
‘Hi, Daisy,’ says a tall wiry man with hipster glasses, before the lift doors have finished opening. ‘Welcome to E.D.S.M. I’m Ben, Managing Director.’
I try and steady my hand enough to shake his, all the while attempting to ignore the camera and boom man hanging out to the side. He’s not at all who I imagined him to be. I’d imagined a suited and booted middle-aged man, but instead he’s dressed in tight jeans and a checked shirt, and his hair is expertly styled to appear like it’s not styled at all.
‘Nice to meet you,’ I stutter.
‘You too. Well, here we are in our offices. As you can see we’re still fairly small and we’re pretty much all in this open-plan area here. Including me and my business partner, as we wanted to make sure that we’re accessible for the staff.’
I nod, glancing around and trying to take it in. For starters, it’s an assault on the senses with its liberal approach to colour. Neon-green plastic chairs, magenta desks and sunflower-yellow walls. Shrewd move on the boss’s part, as you’d never want a night on the tiles before coming to work – this would be the worst place ever to have a hangover.
There are only a dozen desks and only half of those are filled. There’s a kitchen area in one corner, surrounded by beanbags and comfy-looking turquoise loungers, and on the opposite side of the office is a glass-panelled conference room.
‘We have a Nespresso machine over in the corner, and we provide all the different-flavour capsules. Then we have a small kitchenette, where we also provide bread and different types of spreads. We’re also all for creativity, so we’ve got breakout spaces with the loungers and we’ve got a skittle alley in the hallway on the way to the loos,’ he says rattling on.
I’m nodding, trying to keep up. It’s all very well knowing about the free toast, but I’d probably be more interested in knowing what the company did.
‘Great, that’s very good to know,’ I say, as he looks at me as if eager to please.
‘OK, so shall we get started?’
‘Yes, please.’
I follow him into the conference room and sit down where directed. There’s a couple of awkward minutes where the camera crew try to get themselves in the right location, but once they’re rolling, Ben gets going again.
‘So, we are just waiting for my business partner to arrive, and then we’ll get started. Ah, here he is now,’ he says, pointing over my shoulder at the door to the conference room. It’s not until the door opens that I see who it is and my eyes nearly pop out of my head. I’m fully aware of the camera trained on my face, and I try not to flinch as Dickhead Dominic walks into the room with a beaming smile and takes his place next to Ben.
I want to lean over the table and wring his neck, but I’m guessing that’s exactly the type of entertainment Jaz would love to capture. I’ve already been the butt of Internet jokes once; I’m not making that mistake again by being immortalised as a gif.
‘Daisy, this is my partner, Dominic Cutler. I’m the app developer and I deal with all the tech side of things, and Dominic here is the money man who gets the investors onside and oversees the finances.’
‘Pleasure to see you again, Daisy,’ he says leaning over to shake my hand.
I shake it back, while looking him in the eye as if trying to telepathically tell him how much of a wanker I think he is, all the while keeping a smile on my face for the TV cameras.
‘Oh, that’s right, you’ve met before. Dominic suggested we contact you when we decided that we needed a marketing manager. You’ve clearly got a good reputation,’ says Ben, suitably unaware of the looks flying between Dominic and me. If only looks could actually kill.
‘Daisy’s reputation is well-documented in a number of places,’ says Dominic with a smug look on his face. ‘Now, I’m sure you’re probably wondering what it is we do here, as I doubt you’ll have found anything out about us online.’
He raises an eyebrow as if he’s fishing.
‘Other than your company registration and the fact that you are some sort of software company, no.’
‘Well, then,’ says Dominic, seemingly pleased. ‘We’re a dating app.’
‘That’s what the initials stand for: Evolved Dating Social Media,’ says Ben, as he spits out the apparent random words at me. ‘We were going to call it Social Media Evolved Dating, but S.M.E.D. sounded a bit naff, and E.D.S.M. is a bit of a play on B.D.S.M.,’ he says, rattling away.
‘So,’ says Dominic, taking back control. ‘We have an app you pair with your social media: Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Snapchat, et cetera, and it matches you with people who have similar online interests. People who watch the same type of viral videos, like similar companies . . .’
‘We believe that it gives people more of a match with what they’re actually like, rather than just what they want to project on a dating site,’ says Ben.
I don’t want to point out that, before my digital detox, I used to like things and check in at places just to make me look more intelligent and more cultured; there’s always an element of manipulation where social media is involved.
‘We’re in the product-testing stage at the moment, but we hope to launch in the fourth quarter.’
‘That’s why we haven’t posted anything online up until now, as we don’t want any of our competitors hitting on the idea,’ says Ben, looking as if it’s all a bit clandestine.
‘Exactly,’ says Dominic. ‘So it’s essential that we get the marketing and branding right. We want to have an in-house marketing manager, and they can work with a branding agency towards the launch.’
‘Which is where you come in. Dominic said you worked as an account manager at an agency, so this would be a bit of a change for you.’
‘Yes, it would,’ I say, trying to stay professional, despite the fact that I know Dominic has clearly brought me here for a joke, as there’s no way in hell we’d work together. ‘But I have ten years’ experience in different marketing roles, and having managed corporate clients through rebranding and also product launches. I’m more than qualified.’
‘Excellent,’ says Ben. ‘So we’ll start asking you questions, then.’ He laughs a little nervously, and it comes out as a bit of a honk.
‘Daisy,’ says Dominic, with a look that lets me know how much he’s enjoying this. ‘Our business is quite reliant on social media.’
He pauses for effect, and I desperately try to keep my poker face.
‘We’ll hopefully be looking for something to create a buzz and go viral. Perhaps you could talk us through some good examples of companies that have recently gone viral?’
He raises an eyebrow in his smug way. If I wasn’t being filmed, I’d have tipped a glass of water over his head and stormed out, but, instead, I smile politely.
‘Well, as I’m sure you are well aware, the problem with relying on things to go viral is that you’re at the mercy of other people to do it. A lot of companies spend a lot of money trying to do quirky videos or adverts in the hope that they will be liked and shared, and often what they find is that the things that go viral are unintended things. Misinterpreted tweets,’ I say, holding Dominic’s eye, ‘or letters sent to clients that are exceptional for either the right or wrong reasons. Therefore, I usually advise my clients instead to focus on targeted advertising via social-media platforms. That way, you know who is going to be watching and reacting to it, and you have the control.’
Dominic might not be impressed with how I’ve answered the question, but Ben certainly is.
It spurs him on to ask another couple of routine interview questions, and I can’t help but feel like the smug one as I knock the answers out of the park. Dominic starts fidgeting and looking at his list of interview questions, and when I come to the end of an answer he gives me a look, and I brace myself for what’s coming next.
‘So, Daisy. What do you think the biggest enemy to a woman in the workplace is?’
I can feel the anger rising up inside me. He’s trying to unnerve me by making reference to my tweets during the hen do.
‘Dominic,’ says Ben in a hushed whisper. He holds up a book in front of the side of his face to shield him from the camera. ‘You can’t ask that. Not with the camera here. You’ll stir up a hornets’ nest and everyone will accuse us of not being a feminist-friendly company.’
Dominic flexes his fingers and looks furious at being overruled, but he doesn’t argue back.
‘So, Daisy,’ says Ben, smiling as he puts his book down. ‘What’s your biggest weakness?’
Dominic perks up again and he raises an eyebrow as if to bait me. Well, if he wants me to talk about social media, maybe I will.
‘I think that my greatest weakness is always being switched on. I think it’s so easy to do in the modern world, and I’m sure the two of you are just as guilty of answering emails at midnight and interrupting what you’re doing to check what’s happening online. It’s hard sometimes to stay focused when you’ve got the whole world at your fingertips. Yet, I’ve recently been on a digital detox and I feel as if I’ve regained more perspective on my mobile-phone usage, and I believe that this won’t be so much of an issue in the future.’
‘Ah, a digital detox; that’s a bit like what you did, wasn’t it, Dominic? In Thailand,’ says Ben.
‘Mine was more of a spiritual retreat that cut out the trappings of modern life,’ he says in his weird accent. Of course his would have to be better than mine.
‘Now, our business is based on social-media profiles and seeing what they say about a person. We thought that a good marketing strategy would be to have adverts that made people think about what their social-media accounts say about themselves. So we thought it might be a fun idea to bring up one of your social-media accounts to see if you can analyse your public persona based on it, and see if you could tell us what different interactions say about your personality.’
Dominic’s pursing his lips with expectation as Ben taps a few buttons on his iPad and its screen appears on one of the screens on the wall. He opens Twitter and slides it over for me to log in.
I take a deep breath, remembering the film crew sitting there. I don’t want to give anyone the satisfaction of seeing me break down.
‘I recently deleted my Twitter account after I started to receive obscene messages,’ I say, holding Dominic’s gaze. ‘But, I think it’s a very good idea. I’m sure you can tell a lot from someone’s Twitter feed.’
I type in Dominic’s and bring up his profile. It takes him a good second to realise what I’m doing.
‘Now, hang on,’ he says, but Ben holds his hand out to stop him.
‘Relax, see where it goes,’ he says.
Ben clearly wears the trousers in their business relationship, making me think they might not be equal partners.
‘Now, most people would probably just look at their tweets on the front page, you know, what they have to say to the Twitter stream, but I always like to click on people’s mentions and replies, I say clicking on it. Here, you get a better idea of what makes people tick. Ah, here we go, this is a tweet to a shampoo company that make caffeine shampoo to encourage hair growth. And another to an expensive moisturiser. So what I’d assume from that, is that the man in question is quite vain, perhaps not wanting to show signs of ageing.’
Ben does his honking laugh and I see the camera focus on Dominic. Now he’s the one who looks as if he wants to lean over the table and strangle me.
‘And take this tweet to KC Husker,’ I say, starting to enjoy myself as all eyes in the room read the lewd message he sent the notorious glamour model about peaches. ‘He clearly would go for a certain type of woman – clearly he values beauty over brains.’
‘Then lastly, this company he’s tweeted to, I’m pretty sure it’s a haemorrhoid cream, but whatever it is, it shows that he’s not got the greatest respect in the world for customer-service reps.’
‘Oh my God, this is too funny, huh, Dominic?’
He looks like a volcano about to explode. ‘This is such a gross violation. I mean, who I tweet should be private.’
‘Well, it could be worse,’ I say, trying to keep calm, ‘it’s not like this is being printed in a national newspaper.’
‘I like her, Dom. She’s funny. I think she’d be perfect for the role.’
‘You can’t be serious?’ says Dominic. ‘Hang on, then. I’ve got another question. Why did you leave your last employment?’
I take a deep breath and wonder whether enough’s enough. I’ve sat here answering questions for a job I really don’t want, all so that I don’t humiliate myself on television. But what’s to stop me from getting up and walking out silently? It might come across strangely on the telly if it made the edit, but it would probably be preferable to telling the truth.
‘Well?’ he says, as if he’s just performed checkmate.
‘I was fired,’ I say, surprising myself with my honesty. ‘I represented my company badly after a momentary lapse in concentration.’
‘You sent a sexually explicit tweet from your work account when you meant to send it from your personal one,’ says Dominic.
Ben looks between us as if he’s connecting the dots.
‘You’re the woman behind hashtag priceless? Wow. Just wow,’ he says. ‘I should be grateful, as it’s going to give us some great PR when the company launches. And imagine if you were on board too.’
His eyes light up and I think this is the only interview I’d ever have where they’d be this excited about my major Twitter fuck-up.
‘So where do you see yourself in five years’ time?’ asks Ben, seemingly unfazed with the daggers shooting between Dominic and me.
I close my eyes for a second, as if to conjure up an image of myself sitting in my own office with staff scurrying around me at my every beck and call, only I can’t. I can’t see myself at a desk, and especially not one that’s magenta.
I waffle through the question regardless, giving them the usual spiel of managing teams and wanting more responsibility, but I can’t even convince myself that that’s what I want for the future.
‘Well, thank you for coming to see us,’ says Ben, as he concludes the interview. ‘We’ve been very impressed, haven’t we, Dominic?’
‘Have we?’ he replies with a scowl.
‘Yes, we have. You’re our last candidate for this position, and I have to say that I think you’d be a perfect fit for the company.’
I smile. ‘Thank you, Ben. While it would be an absolute pleasure to work with you, and I think the app is a great idea, I could never work with a misogynistic arsehole like Dominic.’
So much for keeping my decorum for the telly.
‘I’ll see myself out,’ I say, shuffling past the camera crew.
Jaz gives me a smile on the way out, which makes me realise I’ve at least made someone’s day. They’ll have something exciting for their TV show at least.
I hold my head up high and walk out of the building. This has to be the weirdest interview I’ve ever had, but probably the only one to make me realise what I don’t want to do with my life.