I Waited 20 Minutes for This? How Not to Conduct an Interview

Every Wednesday, I block out 30 minutes on my calendar to apply for new opportunities. Not because I'm desperate for a new job. Not because I'm unhappy. Because careers deserve maintenance just like businesses do. I genuinely enjoy interviewing. It keeps my resume fresh, my skills sharp, and reminds me that opportunities are always out there. And as someone who also interviews for businesses often I like to get new inspiration on questions and structure. Sometimes I never hear back. Sometimes it's nothing more than a practice interview. Sometimes I meet incredible people. And every once in a while, I learn something that has absolutely nothing to do with the job itself. This was one of those times.

It reminded me of something I think we all need to hear a little more often: The interview isn't just about whether you're the right fit for the company. It's about whether the company is the right fit for you. We spend so much time trying to impress them. We rehearse answers. Research the company. Practice our introductions. Wonder if we wore the right outfit. Stress over whether we said the right thing. Meanwhile, we forget that interviews are supposed to go both ways. Every interaction tells you something about how a company operates. The question is whether you're paying attention..

My first interview with this company started about five minutes late. No big deal. Life happens. Meetings run over. Technology fails. As a business owner, I probably give people more grace than most because I've been there. A couple of weeks later I was invited back for a second interview. This time I waited. Five minutes. Ten. Fifteen. Twenty. Eventually the CEO joined the call after 24 minutes of me in an empty zoom meeting. Again, I wasn't angry. I was curious. Because interviews are when companies are usually putting their best foot forward. If this is the impression, what does an ordinary Tuesday look like?

Then they offered me the job. Almost immediately when the second interview started. The CEO told me she wanted me to start the very next day. On paper, it sounded exciting. As we continued talking, we also discussed some of the things we were both hesitant about. The role was brand new. There weren't established systems. There weren't technical guidelines. Honestly? None of that scared me. Building systems from scratch is literally what I do. Then another detail came up. The company is fully remote, but employees spend their day working independently inside a Zoom-style room together. Not collaborating. Not meeting. Simply...being visible. Maybe that works well for some teams. For me, it made me stop and ask a question. If I'm producing quality work, meeting deadlines, communicating well, and delivering results...Why does someone also need to watch me do it?

Remote work has always represented trust to me. Not freedom from work. Freedom to work like an adult. Still, I didn't write the opportunity off. In fact, I did the opposite. I wanted to give it a fair chance. During our conversation, the CEO and I agreed that because I'd be joining as a 1099 contractor, we could treat it as a trial run. We'd work together. See if our styles aligned. Figure out whether it made sense for both of us. I appreciated that. A trial period should protect both sides. I verbally agreed to start the very next day.

The next day rolls around, and once again similar to the interview red flags, I heard nothing. No onboarding email. No instructions. No paperwork. No communication. The next day came and went. Nothing. Then the weekend. Still nothing. At some point, I stopped wondering whether I'd missed an email and started accepting what the silence was communicating. So I moved on.

Then, a week since the job offer later...a contract appeared in my inbox. No introduction. No explanation. No email saying, "We're excited to have you." Just a document asking for my signature.

I ignored it for a day because, frankly, a random contract without any communication wasn't enough to restart a conversation that had completely gone silent. The following day, one of the CEO's assistants sent me a message on WhatsApp (don’t even get me started on that choice of communication platform) asking me to sign it. By then, my decision had already been made.

I replied: "Hi there. I've decided not to move forward with working with this team. After being told I was expected to start last Thursday and then not hearing anything for about a week, I felt the opportunity was no longer moving forward. Because of that, I've made other plans and don't feel this is the right fit anymore. I sincerely appreciate your time and consideration, and I wish you and your team the best of luck in finding the right candidate."

I wasn't trying to make a point. I wasn't trying to teach anyone a lesson. I was simply being honest.

Later that evening, mere hours after sending that text, I received a personal email from the CEO. She apologized. She acknowledged that she should have followed up with me immediately. She told me she still wanted me on the team. Her direct quote was "This situation is exactly why I need someone like you working with me. I could use help making sure I stay on top of tasks and follow through." I actually appreciated her honesty. Owning a mistake isn't easy.

Unfortunately for her, the apology didn't make me want the job back. Because by then, this wasn't about one forgotten email. It was about compatibility.

One of the biggest things I've learned while helping businesses build operations is this: systems don't fail overnight. Communication habits, leadership styles, expectations, follow-through; those things show up in the little moments long before they become the big problems. Could this have been a one-time mistake? Absolutely. But I wasn't making a decision based on one communication. I was making a decision based on everything I'd experienced from the first interview until that moment.

Here's what I'm trying to rewire. For years, I would've convinced myself I was overreacting. I would've thought, "Don't be difficult." "You already got the job." “This is why they need you”. And then found myself weeks later involved in a mess of a company that my workstyle did not align with.

Instead, I trusted myself. I realized this wasn't the right working environment for me. I realized I wasn't ready to walk away from the professional commitments I already had. I realized that accepting every opportunity isn't the same thing as making the right decision. And for the first time, I didn't feel guilty about it. I'm trying to stop criticizing myself for having limits. Instead, I'm learning to congratulate myself for knowing them. For recognizing how I work best. For protecting my peace. For noticing a partnership that wasn't right before either of us invested months trying to make it work.

The interview did exactly what it was supposed to do. The next time you're interviewing, don't just pay attention to the questions they ask you. Pay attention to how they communicate. How they respect your time. How they handle follow-through. How you feel after every interaction. Because interviews aren't just about proving you're capable. They're about discovering compatibility. Sometimes you'll get rejected. Sometimes you'll get hired. And sometimes...You'll get the job, and realize the best decision you can make is saying, "Thank you, but this isn't the right fit."