A Sweet Process
What does it take to be a sweetie? Believe me, I wouldn't know. (Just ask my husband.) But I wanted to find out - which is why, when I learned that SugarHouse Casino was looking for Sweeties (yes, that's an actual job title), I had to apply.
What does it take to be a sweetie?
Believe me, I wouldn't know. (Just ask my husband.) But I wanted to find out - which is why, when I learned that SugarHouse Casino was looking for Sweeties (yes, that's an actual job title), I had to apply.
To staff its forthcoming expansion, SugarHouse is hiring 500 people - chefs, security officers, dealers, valets, and Sweeties. (That's SugarHouse speak for cocktail waitress.)
At SugarHouse, you first submit your resume. If you pass muster, you join a group interview.
It involves silly questions, singing, and pretending to be a superhero, hamming it up in front of a four-judge panel.
"It shows us the personality you can't learn from a resume," said RoMaine Jones, one of the judges.
She said SugarHouse can train almost anyone in almost any task, but personality can't be trained. "We're looking for people pleasers who are really pleasant, who can work together as a team."
At first, my tongue was firmly in my cheek, although, as a workplace reporter, I wanted to check out SugarHouse's unusual group interview process.
Mine was set for Tuesday - along with 18 other potential security guards, chefs, bartenders, housekeepers, and others.
By then, my reporter detachment disappeared and my ambition kicked in. I didn't plan to quit my day job at the Inquirer, but a full-time Sweetie can earn $60,000 to $70,000, including tips, plus gain health insurance, a 401(k), tuition reimbursement, and a chance to advance.
If I passed, I'd have a valuable "Sweetie" credential. And if I didn't, it would just confirm what many already suspect.
Having been a diner waitress, I figured I could deliver drinks. Ditto for the job description: "Smile and make eye contact. Energetic and enthusiastic service. Entertain with hospitality."
Smiling? I'd be the queen of smiles. Now for the disclaimer:
When I went to SugarHouse, I was only semi-incognito. Wendy Hamilton, the general manager, knew I was coming, as did two of the four panelists.
"I've got no problems with you coming," Hamilton said. "I'm proud of our process."
Monday night, I couldn't sleep at all. So nervous.
What should I wear? A miniskirt? I settled on a black dress but with a red jacket to pop it.
To prepare, I examined SugarHouse's website; watched YouTube videos on how to serve drinks (from the right); and read 101 Job Interview Questions You'll Never Fear Again, by James Reed, which includes an entire chapter titled "Curveball and Creativity Questions."
On Tuesday, all 19 of us crowded into an elevator (that alone built team spirit) heading to a training room decorated with balloons. Party music blared. Show time, I thought.
I found myself wanting to succeed, partly because this interview was testing something more personal than carrying drinks.
"There is such pride when people get the job," panelist Kelly Williams, director of team development, said later. "They'll say, 'They liked me. They liked my heart. They liked my personality.' "
That's what I wanted, too.
But, then, don't we all?
We began by introducing ourselves and explaining our superhero nicknames. I chose Wonder Woman. I wondered what I was doing there, but said that I'm a person who wonders about people's motivations and that I think life is pretty wonderful.
As the others spoke, I clapped my hands for everybody, at first deliberately. (What a Sweetie!)
But my applause soon became genuine as my fellow applicants moved me with their dreams.
One man called himself "Super Dad," because his kids expect him to get everything right.
Ms. Vibrant, aka Aja Johnson, 22, of Northeast Philadelphia, greeted the judges warmly, explaining - unnecessarily, given her verve - that she's a vibrant person. "This was really fun," she said.
I stood next to Darryl Washington, a chef from Germantown who is ready to get back into the kitchen after recovering from knee surgery. He and I and four others were in a team; Washington was a natural leader, corralling us as we tried to think how many songs we knew with the word sunshine in them.
"What was unique about this experience was that they depressurized you before the interview," Washington told me later.
At 51, he's had a lifetime of jobs and interviews - but this was a first. "It makes people more dedicated to the work if you can yourself, be funny," he said. "It allows you to work as a human, not a robot."
Washington pushed our group to put our arms around each other, and the panelists liked that.
"He was warm with you, and you received it well. You guys were already building camaraderie," Williams told me later.
We all had a trick question to answer. Mine was: "If you could be on any television show, which would you choose?"
Bad question, because I rarely watch television.
Flustered, I couldn't even think of one TV show. So I blurted out, "Any food show," because I love to cook and would like tips, especially on how to chop an onion fast.
"I got you there," Washington said, volunteering to teach me. He had that camaraderie nailed.
As it turned out, so did I.
By Friday, the results were in: Six of 19 would advance to personal interviews, drug tests, and background checks.
Jones said judges sometimes pick everyone from a panel; other times no one makes the cut. "We're watching body language," Jones said. People who weren't enthusiastic couldn't engage guests.
Four people would be called immediately - they were the judges' top picks.
Jones showed me a text. I had made the four-person cut. It was ridiculous how gratified I felt.
"You were very sincere in your response to other people," Williams told me, describing me as professional and energetic.
"You were exactly what we were looking for," Jones said. "I think you are a Sweetie."
215-854-2769
@JaneVonBergen