I interviewed for a position with a cybersec startup last week—the recruiter had reached out to me and it looked like it could be interesting.
However, the VP
of Product Management (who, 10 years ago owned and managed a tree removal
service and whose LinkedIn profile still enumerates very minor tasks he
performed for unrelated work early in his career) was clearly looking for
someone more technical than I, so I knew that would be the end of it.
His shop, his
call; fair enough.
However, I had
found a typo in the data sheet the recruiter had sent me as prep for the VP
call (she said it was a white paper, but I do know the difference between the
two), so when I sent her my thank-you (since they’d masked the VP’s email
address), I said—very nicely—that I’d found a typo and someone in their
marketing department would probably want to correct that.
(The company has
fewer than 150 employees; I reckoned that the marketing “department” might be
the CMO plus one general dogsbody. Interestingly, when I looked up the CMO on
LinkedIn, I discovered she has a BA; in “English—Technical Writing”. Well, we
all make mistakes.)
I didn’t point
out that this particular typo should have been caught by spellcheck in the
first draft. I seriously do not know how it made it past what should have been
multiple sets of eyeballs on the screen.
Two days later I
received the thanks-but-no-thanks email from the recruiter’s email address. It
was possibly a systems-generated (or maybe they’re using AI) effort; no mention
of my editorial assist and the signature was just the company name.
Bless their hearts.
No comments:
Post a Comment