Job Hunting Idiocy, part two

If you read yesterday's entry, you learned what it's like dealing with telephone calls from technical staffing firms.  In today's installment of Job Hunting Idiocy, you'll learn what it's like to meet these people in person.

At the conclusion of the phone call described yesterday, I'm assigned an interview slot at 10:00am.  Not bad.  Early enough to leave most of the day free, but late enough for morning rush to be concluded. 

Here's the timeline of events:

8:45:  Into the bathroom for bathing & grooming.  Another upside of unemployment is how much money I'm saving on razor blades and hair gel.
9:15:  Don the job-interview uniform and hope the dry cleaner's professional shirt-starch is still good for one more wear.  It is.
9:25:  Depart home, drive halfway across Denver.
9:55:  Sign in at agency's front desk.  Am handed an application to complete.  See yesterday's entry on redundant information collection.
10:10:  Recruiter arrives, ushers me into tiny conference room.  Another re-hash of my resume and experience ensues.
10:20:  Time on dashboard clock as I start my car and begin the half-hour drive home.
10:45:  Carefully hang dress shirt in closet and wonder what just happened.

I've gone through this sequence of events numerous times.  It's nearly impossible to understand where those two hours went, and what benefit I gained by expending them.  Since I don't believe I was abducted by time-manipulating alien beings at any point, I have but one conclusion: that interview lasted no more than seven minutes. 

I dimly recall sitting there, thinking, "We're done already?"  As quickly as I arrived, I was ushered away with a promise of future phone calls, wishes of good luck, et cetera.

What could be the possible purpose of such a meeting?  To ensure I don't have Mike Tyson tattoos on my face?  Not so much as an earring.  As a test of punctuality?  If that's the case, I passed; the recruiter failed.  Could I have done or said something horribly inappropriate?  I don't think I was there long enough to embarrass myself sufficiently. 

In the end, I'm left feeling like another chunk of sub-standard meat dumped into the sausage grinder.  The recruiter did the bare minimum to keep her job, I did my part and updated my search log.  The tedious cycle continues. 

In the next installment of Job Hunting Idiocy, I'll offer strategies on dealing with those left behind: former colleagues who insist on calling or emailing on a daily basis.