This article is reprinted from: Marking Machine Network http://www.technifor.cn/
I dyed my blonde hair black
When I received the IBM interview notification, it was already the third week after I submitted my resume. I was on a business trip in a small county town.
At that time, I was interning at a laser company as a technician, responsible for installing and debugging marking machines, and sometimes also worked as a mover.
The companies that purchased our machines were mostly located in remote areas of small county towns, which were relatively desolate. This trip was no exception. After finishing work, my colleagues and I returned to the county town, first finding a place to have a big meal, then gathering in a small hair salon to wash our hair and relax. The hairstylist suggested I dye my hair a different color. Seeing that the price was not expensive and very fashionable, I chose a dazzling golden yellow color. On one hand, I wanted to relax myself, and on the other hand, I wanted to free myself from the anxiety of waiting for IBM's notification.
My phone rang just as my hair had been freshly dyed. Looking at the number, it seemed to be from IBM. I quickly removed the white cloth wrapped around my chest and nervously answered the call. The gentle voice of an IBM secretary informed me to arrive at IBM headquarters for an interview between 5:00 PM and 6:00 PM the next day.
I started laughing foolishly, rushed back to the hair salon, pointing at my newly dyed blonde hair and shouting: "Quickly dye my hair back, make it black! Black!"
As soon as my hair was done, I bought a ticket and rushed to IBM company.
Please fix this light for me
When I entered the IBM company, I found that the men were all dressed in formal suits, and the women wore dignified professional outfits.
But I was in work clothes, jeans, white sneakers, carrying a large tool bag, especially with long hair that could cover my eyes.
I strongly felt that I didn't belong here, and the immense pressure made me feel much shorter.
Just as I was feeling nervous, a beautiful girl appeared in front of me. Her sweet voice guided me: "Please follow this way." I followed her dazedly, turning down the corridor, walking, and turning again, only noticing the working scenes in the various working areas we passed by, like watching a movie.
Finally, she stopped at the door of a meeting room, turned around, looked at my confused face, and pointed at the ceiling: "It's these two fluorescent lights that are not working, please fix them as soon as possible." My mind went blank. She noticed that I didn't react and asked with concern: "What's wrong?"
"I, I'm not here to fix the lights, I'm here for an interview. Could you tell me where Room S109 is?" The girl didn't say anything, looking at me suspiciously, probably because she had never seen someone come for an interview dressed like this. After a long while, she pointed to a small meeting room opposite: "That's it, the number is on the door."