When I was twenty-five years old, I landed an interview with Tiffany and Company for a job in corporate sales. It was a dream job”¦I would go to large corporations in San Francisco and sell established accounts corporate gifts. I had been working as a sales representative for Union Carbide, and drove around the bay area in my silver Impala company car, with batteries and flashlights in the trunk. I was responsible for displaying them at hardware and chain drug stores, and did so in a business suit, complete with high heels, and a bow tie. Not that I had been ashamed of selling batteries, but the image part of selling Tiffany appealed to me. “Corporate sales for Tiffany” sounded a little more glamorous than “battery and flashlight sales for Union Carbide.”

I sailed through three interviews at Tiffany and was offered the job. I called everyone I knew and shared the news. I was so excited that I even scheduled an appointment for a manicure. My hands were beat up from mishaps with box cutter while unleashing energizer batteries and needed to be restored for my glamorous new post. I was on my way out the when the phone rang.

It was my prospective boss.

He told me that the only thing I needed to do before starting my new job was take a polygraph test. My heart skipped a beat. A lie detector test? Should be no problem, I had nothing to hide. He assured me the test was standard for all Tiffany employees and not to worry. I told him I understood, that after all, they didn’t want a bunch of kleptomaniacs running around, immediately regretted my crass response. I had been hanging around hardware stores too long!

I stopped by the office the next day and filled out some forms. One of them had sample questions for the lie detector test.

“Is your name Laura Bowhay? Were you born in Vallejo California?”

This was going to be easy.
“Have you ever pilfered pencils, pens or paper from a place of employment?”
Uh oh.
“Have you padded expense reports?”

That depends on what you consider padding.
I began to worry about how I should answer these questions. Should I say yes to pilfering pencils and risk being rejected on the spot? Should I say no to pilfering pencils while thinking pleasant thoughts, perhaps tricking the test? Deep down, I already knew the job was gone.

I decided to talk to my parents, who were already bragging to their friends that Laura had a job in corporate sales at Tiffany! Back then, we didn’t have the internet to research how to outsmart polygraph tests. I explained the sample questions and shared my pilfered pencils dilemma.

My Dad said to go ahead and admit to the pilfering part – that was a smoke screen, everyone had done that.

My mom wasn’t so sure, but had an idea. Why don’t I go to Union Carbide and any other places where I may have lifted pens or pencils, and return them? I would then have a clear conscience and pass the test.

The next day, I stopped by Eddie Bauer, where I had worked in college, and the Rusty Scupper, where I had worked as a hostess, feeling like a little girl whose mother had asked her to return a stolen candy bar from the grocery store. At each place, I went to the manager with a box of pens and pencils and explained my situation. I could tell they both thought I was a nut”¦I certainly felt like one.
The worst thing about a polygraph test is the sound. During control questions, (is your name Laura Bowhay?) the sounds of needle-like pens scribbling on a chart are like a whisper. With every other question, the needles scrape the paper frantically, picking up in intensity with subsequent probing.

I sat there with my Brooks Brothers bow tie and polished Ferragammos feeling like a convict, a sham. Maybe Union Carbide would take me back.

The following day my prospective boss called me and told me there had been a little problem with the polygraph results. No kidding, I thought. I told him I had been pretty nervous. He said he understood, but told me the test accommodates for nerves. Would I please take the test again”¦tomorrow?

I took the test with the same results, and thanked the sales manager of Tiffany for giving me the opportunity. My parents took me out to dinner at my favorite restaurant and we laughed about my experience. You’ll tell your kids about his someday, they said, and I have. There will come a day when they grab a pencil or pen before leaving their office”¦and then they will put it back.

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