I was in my late twenties when the recruiter called me. I ignored his call with the expectation that, like any other job recruiter I’d encountered in the past, he would move on to other potential candidates. I was fine with that. Actually, I preferred it. By my late twenties I had settled in to a good job with an employer that was secure and had seemingly endless opportunities. This was so important to me because at the time I was hired, my previous employer was closing its doors and I would be out of employment within a couple of months. I was so thankful to have this job. Not only did this job provide a way to keep me employed, it provided a little more income. It helped me to develop my career and I learned a lot from it. It was located in the city where I had easy access to anything I could have wanted. My commute was maybe 5 minutes from my apartment in a nearby town that I had immediately fallen in love with when I was passing through. In other words, I was happy. I thought I had found my new home.
But, the calls continued. Unlike other recruiters, this one called again and again and didn’t stop until he reached me at work. I must admit, his persistence was intriguing. I took the call with the intention of declining anything he had to offer and I did just that. He wanted to talk about a job opportunity a couple of hours away in the southern part of the state. A position that was available in a small town a fraction of the size where I was currently living. A place that was located away from everything that I loved and resembled the place I was raised which was exactly everything I was trying to get away from. It didn’t matter, this recruiter was relentless. Relentless in a way that left me wondering if there was something more to this, that for whatever reason maybe I was supposed to consider this job. When he called again I reluctantly agreed to an interview though I felt confident that it would need to be something incredible to ever get me to leave.
When I arrived for the interview the town wasn’t what I expected. It was a little bit worse. I arrived to a formal interview unlike any other interviews I had been a part of before. There was no small talk, no getting to know you friendly conversation. I was ushered into a room where I sat at a long conference table facing four or five expressionless people who fired one question after another at me. They told me about the company and the struggles they had been encountering. Job security was not something they could provide, in fact, it looked very likely they would be closing down within a couple of years. Everything about this position told me to run back home and never look back. Instead, on the drive home I was met with an eerie feeling that I’m supposed to be there and for the life of me I didn’t know why.
It wasn’t long after the interview that I received a call and they offered me the job. I thought about it for a bit and I discussed the offer with my friends. I basically received the same reaction from each, that I was crazy to leave the job I had and the place I loved to move to a place I was guaranteed to be miserable and left unemployed. One dear friend was different though. I confessed that I knew everything about this job was a red flag but I couldn’t shake an overwhelming feeling that I was supposed to go there. I couldn’t explain it, I didn’t know why but something was telling me that I was meant to be there. His reply was matter-of-fact, “Then you gotta go.” And so I went…and that is where I met your father.