Recently, on a Tuesday evening, I sat in a small café in Stuttgart, the lights as dim as I like them for conversations like these. Three ladies at my table and three cups slowly going cold, because none of them was really thinking about drinking.
I prefer to hold first interviews in a small group. I see more that way than an application could ever tell me: who truly listens to the others, and who laughs when things get awkward for a moment. In the end, these women may become colleagues. So I allow myself to look closely from the very first evening.
A first interview in Stuttgart and an empty fourth chair
One of the three was wonderful. Clever, with a calm manner you simply can't learn. And yet something bothered me that I couldn't put my finger on at first.
Her phone lay face up next to her cup. Every time it lit up, her eyes were somewhere else for a moment. When I asked which evenings she could imagine for dates, she looked at the screen first. Then she answered.
Across the street stood a dark car. The engine was running, the entire hour. I said nothing. It wasn't the moment, and I could have been wrong.
The night to think it over belongs to the lady
At the end I tell every applicant the same thing: Sleep on it. Write to me tomorrow and tell me whether you truly want this. That night is sacred to me. A woman should be alone with herself when she makes this decision. Without me, who has been smiling at her all evening, and without the others at the table.
The next morning, three messages arrived. Two began with I. The third began with "We have decided …"
I didn't need to read any further. A single word, and the fourth chair that had stayed empty all evening was suddenly taken.
Why at PURE every lady decides for herself
A few weeks ago, in Warum ich manchmal bewusst Nein sage, I wrote about why I won't hold an interview when a woman wants to bring her partner along. Back then it was about the man at the table. Today it's about the one waiting outside. He is harder to spot, but he is just as present in the room.
I don't judge this woman, and I don't know the story behind that we. Perhaps it's harmless, perhaps even a form of care. But I carry responsibility, for her and for every gentleman who relies on the lady at his door being there because she wants to be. That trust is the foundation of PURE. I don't negotiate it, not even for a woman I would have loved to welcome.
I declined kindly. She thanked me, politely and without asking why. Perhaps that was the most honest answer of the whole evening.
Dear ladies, if you're toying with the idea: come alone. Bring your questions, and your nerves too, if you like. But the night afterwards belongs to you. You can read how to find your way to us in Der einzige Weg zu PURE – Bewerbung.
Discreetly yours,
Lena