Job Interview Questions

1. Could you tell me more about yourself?

2. What are the reasons that I should I hire you?

3. Why did you leave your former job?

4. What are your career objectives?

5. What do you consider your greatest strengths and weaknesses?

Important Job Interview Vocabulary

การพรรณาเกี่ยวกับตัวคุณเองในการสัมภาษณ์งานเป็นสิ่งที่สำาคัญมาก
คุณจำาเป็นจะต้องทราบคำาคุณศัพท์ระดับสูงเพื่อที่จะทำาผู้สัมภาษณ์คิด
ว่าคุณเป็นผู้ที่ได้รับการศึกษามาดีและยังเป็นผู้มีความรู้ดีลองศึกษาคำา
ศัพท์ขา้ งล่างก่อนที่คุณจะไปสัมภาษณ์งาน

active honest
กระตือรือร้น ซื่อสัตย์

adaptable loyal
ปรับตัวได้ จงรักภักดี

adept mature
ชำานาญ เชี่ยวชาญ เป็นผู้ใหญ่

broad-minded motivated
ใจกว้าง ไม่มีอคติ กระตุ้น ดลใจ

competent outgoing
มีความสามารถ เปิดเผย
มีความชำานาญ
positive
conscientious เชื่อถือได้ มั่นใจ
รอบคอบ ระมัดระวัง
practical
creative เหมาะสม มีประโยชน์
มีความคิดสร้างสรรค์
reliable
dependable เชื่อถือได้
เชื่อถือได้ ไว้วางใจได้
resourceful
efficient มีสติปัญญาดี หัวดี
ซึ่งมีประสิทธิภาพ
energetic sincere
มีพลัง ชอบทำางาน จริงใจ

enterprising successful
คล่องแคล่ว กล้าได้กล้าเสีย ประสบความสำาเร็จ

enthusiastic trustworthy
กระตือลือร้น มีศรัทธาแรงกล้า น่าไว้วางใจ เชื่อถือได้

experienced
มีประสบการณ์

Back to Top Copyright (C) 2001 Yindii Dot Com Co., Ltd. All rights reserved.
Do not duplicate original material without prior consent of Yindii.com
Crush
by asrespond ฉ
At first, she was just a customer in the store, albeit a pretty one. Blonde, blue eyed, with a curvy
body, she projected an attractive aura, and her youthful flirtiness just added to her charm. He was
only a couple years out of college, an assistant manager, someone who handled both the difficult
and special customers. He earned a good reputation with customers, his combination of boyish
enthusiasm, surprising knowledge, and attention to their needs contributing to building a loyal
customer base. He was usually swarmed with customers, asking his advice, listening to one of
dozens of stories he'd accumulated in his short adult life, or watching him help someone else.

She was not an exception and soon she started asking for him by name. He found himself
looking forward to her visits, almost always preceded by a cell phone call to make sure he was
there. As a customer, she did buy things, she was reasonable, and brought her friends to shop as
well. Then, one day, in the middle of the summer, she sort of disappeared.

An odd call came in that fall, someone calling on her behalf, telling him that she'd been seriously
injured and that she was in a hospital. Then nothing. He tried to call her, but there was no
answer. Worried, he tried the cell phone. Nothing, just her pleasant voicemail. Well, he thought,
I wonder if something really bad happened. He didn't know if he should call the hospital. Don't
be ridiculous, he thought, you barely know her. Finally, he did, nervously, but he couldn't even
learn if she'd even been there.
The winter went by, and although he occasionally thought of her, the intervals grew longer and
longer. Other customers occupied him, other problems. Spring rolled around, the leaves started
to blossom, and people started to do summer-like things like wear shorts, ride their bikes, and
lawnwork. The phone rang one beautiful day - another routine call on a busy day. But then when
he picked it up, it was her.

"Hi." she said.

"Oh my God!" he cried out, "I thought you died."

She laughed. "What are you talking about?"

"I got a call from someone saying that you were hurt and in the hospital and I called and no one
answered so I tried your cell and it was just voicemail and I thought you died!" he blurted out.

"Oh." She seemed a little taken aback. "Well, it's true that I was hurt, a climbing accident, and I
was bed ridden for a couple months. But now I'm okay, ready to get on with things."

He could hear her smile, and they talked a bit more until she said she was waiting at the light for
the store parking lot.

He watched her walk into the store - she hadn't changed a bit. She stood a hair under 5'7", just
about his height, but she had long blond hair as opposed to his short, dark hair. She was
pleasantly tan, with long legs and a very proportionate and shapely body. He guessed she
weighed something like 120 lbs, 30 lbs less than him. She loved to wear skirts, and he drew in
the sight of her thighs moving under the mid-thigh skirt, hips moving seductively. They said hi,
him shyly, a slight blush on his face. She looked at him knowingly, smiling with the contrasts of
his obvious pleasure in seeing her while at the same time seeing his uncertainty and shyness.
Her "official" reason for being there was to be re-fitted for some equipment. Although she had
the equipment before, the accident (a neck injury affecting her spine) made fitment a little
different. And so she they discussed what would take place. Now normally, this involves things
like measuring limb lengths, a procedure that would need some relatively close quartered
touching, something that invades a person's personal space. So when she showed up in a
miniskirt, his face fell.

"Um, you need to wear shorts or jeans, a skirt won't really be appropriate." he told her.

Typically focused on the task at hand, he couldn't even think of the possibilities of a fitting
session with a skirt.

"I should have realized," she replied, "I'll come back another time."

They walked outside, him to help her with a few bags, and they caught up with each other's last
few months.

She'd had a tumultuous time in the last half year - along with the injury, her husband filed for
divorce while she was still bed-ridden. In her late 30's, she struggled to straighten out her life, to
return to normalcy, and this fitting was a part of it.

He'd ended (a few months ago) a painful, up and down, 5 year relationship, one that started when
he was barely 19. Too weak to end it, too drawn to its rare highlights, he'd carry the effects of it
for literally a decade more. He too was struggling to maintain some semblance of a normal life.
Although very cheery at work, privately, he longed for companionship. He focused on his work
and his hobbies (one of which, fortunately, had to do with his job). Personally though, he felt a
lost, lacking direction, longing for that special someone.
And so they parted that day, both glowing, both smiling, him looking forward to her next visit.
As promised, she returned a few days later, but as she walked in, she laughed.

"I forgot my gym bag," she smiled, "and it has my shorts in it - I'll have to come back." She
paused. "You know," she continued, "we could just do it now."

"No, no, no," he said, blushing, "um, it'll be better if you have something other than a skirt on."

They chatted a bit and she left. For the rest of the day, he couldn't wipe the smile off his face.

He thought about her a lot, her smile, her voice, her scent. He wished that she'd talk to him as
more than just a sales person, maybe even have dinner or something with her. But no, that
wouldn't be possible he thought. No way.

A couple weeks went by, with visits every few days, and each time, either time or clothing
seemed to intrude with the planned fitting. It didn't stop them from chatting though, and they
found themselves drawn into each other's words, talking until it was time to go.

Finally, she walked in and proclaimed that she forgot her bag and she didn't care. Scowling, she
said that she really needed the fitment, and this delay was getting ridiculous. A little intimidated,
he agreed to do the fitment. She had to sit, stand, and generally do a lot of "unladylike" things,
and her peach colored skirt was definitely inadequate for coverage. Other patrons smiled at his
discomfort, watching the proceedings, but continued on out of respect for the two of them.

Inevitably, he found his eyes drawn towards her crotch, where her very visible white (with little
pink and purple roses, he noted) panties flashed. Then he'd look up, finding her watching him,
smiling. He'd blush and continue on, asking her to lift her elbow or stretch out or move her leg.
At some point, she had to lift her leg up, and for the first time she seemed embarrassed, clutching
her skirt and pulling it down. But as she lifted her leg, she couldn't help but reveal everything,
and once again, he couldn't keep his eyes off of her. Surprisingly red in face, she apologized for
her unladylikeness, and he assured her it was okay. She looked around, catching more than a few
eyes looking her way, and turned to him.

"Oh my God, everyone is watching," she whispered, leaning over to his ear. He smiled, feeling
her brush against him.

"It's okay," he said, "you're done."

They paused as he made recommendations for equipment, then he walked her out to the car.

She settled into her car, and he leaned in her open windows sill. She looked at him questioningly,
but he didn't say anything. His eyes darted around, he blushed, and, knowingly, she patiently
waited for him. He took a deep breath.

"Would you like to have dinner with me one night?" he exhaled. She looked at him.

"I had a feeling this was going to happen," she said, "I can't, my schedule doesn't give me a lot of
time in the evening. But if you want, we can have breakfast together."

"Uh, sure," he replied, taken off guard, "let me know when is good for you. I just have to get to
work by 9."

"Okay," she said, "I'll call you."

She drove off, and he thought about it. There's no reason for her to call me, he thought. But I
hope she does.

A week went by with no word from her. But then the phone rang, and her voice was at the other
end of the line.

"How does Thursday morning sound?", she asked.

"Great!", he replied. Then a pause. She stayed silent.

"Are you okay?", he asked.

"I'm fine."

They met at a nearby diner. He walked in, nervous - he'd never really asked a woman for
anything like a date, and now he was going to a breakfast date. He met his ex-girlfriend in his
dorm through a friend, and they just "hung out" till things started to happen. So this was a novel
and frightening experience. When he arrived, she was already there, sipping a cup of coffee. He
sat down, and they ordered their breakfasts. They talked and she revealed to him that the
separation was getting ugly, and that she'd actually called the police one night. He listened,
empathizing, concerned. In return, she asked him about his ended relationship and listened as he
poured his heart out. They both shared little stories, experiences, and such.

He glanced at his watch. It was time to leave. He walked her out to her car. She got in and started
it, then looked at him.

"You want a ride?"

"It's only a hundred yards!", he said.

"Yes, but I can still give you a ride!", she laughed. They got in her car and he thought about the
impossibility of this - to be in her car with her! She drove slowly to the next lot and pulled up in
front of the store. He turned to her, painfully aware of her closeness, of the private little world
the car formed around them. He paused.

"Um," he stammered, "would you like to have breakfast again?"

"Of couse," she said. "Next week, same time?"

He grinned a Cheshire Cat grin, "Definitely!"

He stepped out of the car, smiling broadly. His co-workers (all friends) teased him as he walked
in, asking him if he just got laid. He smiled inwardly. They don't realize, he thought, that it isn't
just about sex.

***

He looked up from the coffee he was stirring.

"So where exactly do you live?", he asked. He knew the address by heart, but he didn't have a
map of the town (it was in the next state over). She described where it was.

"You should drop by if you are ever in the area", she smiled, "you can check it out if you like."

"Oh, no," he said, "I wouldn't want to bother you."

"Really, it's not a problem," she answered, "it's just me and my daughter. If you're scared of a 4
year old..." He laughed.

"Well, are you sure it's okay?"

"I'm sure."
"Maybe he would drop by," he murmured, already thinking about the possiblity.

***

He came by a few days later, heart pounding, and seeing someone in a window, quickly turned
away and kept going...

***

She laughed when he told her.

"Why didn't you just come in and say hi?", she asked, "really, it's not a problem!"

She laughed again, shaking her head, looking down for a second, then peering up.

"I can't believe you, going all the way up there and not saying hi." She paused.

"Next time, come into the house," she said.

He couldn't help but stare into her eyes.

"I will," he promised.

***

He walked up to the door, nervous, worried. He reached for the bell, but jumped when the door
opened before he touched it.
"I watched you come up," she said. "Come on in, we can have some lunch."

He walked in, giddy, nervous. Her house was large, with cathederal ceilings, large open areas,
and a deck running around the perimeter. Private, secluded, he understood why she took refuge
here. And with the well stocked kitchen, she whipped up some great food. He explored her
kitchen, finding things like pictures of her and her daughter (she gave him one) and her
magazines (he loved reading Glamour and those types of publications). Sometimes, he'd just
stare at her as she did kitchen things, slicing, mixing, stirring, checking. Together they sat and
ate, chatting, happy. Afterwards, he prepared to leave. She walked him to the door, and they said
their awkward good byes, standing a couple feet apart. She watched as he went down the
driveway.

***

He wasn't sure when he admitted the fact that he had a crush on her. It was probably at the third
or fourth breakfast. She only smiled in response, their eyes locked, their heads close. His visits to
her house became his "off-day" routine, more and more frequent. His heart soared when he
thought of her. The scent of the house, the particular flower she kept in abundance, both mixed
well with her natural scent. When there, he'd breath in deeply whenever he could, amazed at
where he was, soaked in the aroma, the emotion, the woman.

***

Early on, she admitted that she had a deep distrust in men, from her childhood on. He respected
that and kept his distance. His puppy love didn't seem to bother her - in fact, she thrived on the
relatively innocent longing he felt for her. She forbade him from coming upstairs to the
bedrooms. She felt that it was her private space, and she wanted it kept that way. Although a
little pained by the seeming rejection, he understood and accepted her request.
***

One night they sat to watch a movie. A little chilly, she went and got a blanket and some pillows.
She offered half of both, which he accepted gratefully. She gave him a pillow, taking one for
herself, and she lay down. He sat, leaning on his arm, painfully aware that she was laying just
next to him. She moved her legs over just a bit, straightening them out, touched his thigh. Her
touch electrified him. This is the first time they'd touched without purpose, not a bump or a door
holding or a passing of the salt. His breathing almost stopped, and he froze. He turned and
looked over at her.

"You okay?", she asked.

"Um, can I lay down too?", he replied, his mouth dry, nervous, excited. She scooted over just a
bit.

"Sure", she replied, "but there isn't a lot of room." He lay down on his side, his arm and leg held
in, his body barely touching hers. He reached out to her blanket-covered stomach and gently laid
his hand there. He looked up at her face, but she seemed intent on the movie. He visibly relaxed,
his body sagging, contact attained. His leg came down over just a bit of hers. She moved a bit,
and he thought it was in rejecting him, but it was only to get a little more comfortable. He smiled
and closed his eyes, his face nestled in her neck, his arm wrapped around her torso, his leg over
hers. He could feel her breathing, the slight rise and fall soothing him. He grew hard, pressing
against her thigh. But she didn't move, and he let himself just bathe in the sensation of being
close to her.

***

Weeks went by. She invited him over for a workout (lifting weights and such) and dinner. He
accepted, and arrived, comfortable enough to walk in without knocking. With fall arriving, the
air a little crisp, indoor workouts seemed to be a little more comfortable, a little more easy. They
had a good session, both of them working hard. They showered separately (even on separate
floors), settling in to watch a video. Snuggling, they watched, warm, cozy. Afterwards, he got
up, his hair a mess, his eyes sleepy. He glanced at his watch.

"Holy... it's midnight. I have to go." he exclaimed.

"Are you tired?", she asked.

"Well, yeah, but it's okay, I'll make it home.", he replied.

"You know, you can just stay here tonight. Then you can just go in from here."

He looked up at her.

"Really," she said, "it's okay."

His eyes questioned her.

"You can sleep in the guest room."

"Well, okay," he agreed, "I'll stay."

She had him come upstairs to get a t-shirt and a blanket. He stopped outside her bedroom.

"Come on in, it's okay," she said, looking out at him.

"I thought you said this is your private sanctuary," he said, "I don't want to intrude."
She smiled appreciatively.

"You're not intruding, trust me," she replied, "if you were, you wouldn't be here."

He walked in gingerly, as if tip-toeing in would make it ok. She was standing in her closet, a
large walk in, and handed him a t-shirt. He held it, her scent on it, fresh, female, beautiful. She
pulled out a drawer. "Lingerie," she smiled, closing it quickly.

"Uh, but," he pointed, "um, can you open that again?"

She slid it out, smiling, and stood back, inviting. He stepped forward and touched the soft, satiny,
silky, little things, all sorts of colors, all types of frilly things. She cleared her throat.

"Okay," she said, "you need to go to sleep."

He withdrew, and after grabbing a blanket, she led him back downstairs.

He went to sleep, laying on his stomach, wanting to be with her upstairs, holding her, breathing
her in, listening to her heartbeat. Her t-shirt lay in his protective, curled arms, and he fell asleep
with her scent in his face.

The next morning, he offered the shirt back, but she told him to wear it. It ended up on his bed, a
reminder of him when he slept at home. He asked her for another t-shirt after a few days, and she
obliged, trading. She smiled when she handed it over, watching him accept it, guarding it,
protecting it.

***

She came into his work one day and pulled him aside.
"I wanted to show you something!" she said.

"Show me what?" he asked.

"This!" she said, pulling her halter top open just a bit. "What do you think, you like the color? I
just got it!"

He stared, speechless, at her bra, some unusual beige color, lacy, frilly.

"Um..." he flushed, "I like it."

She didn't move, so he reached out caressed the bra, afraid to press down. He looked up at her.
She flashed a smile and pulled her pants down just a bit over her hip.

"Matching thong!" she whispered proudly. He ran his hand over her hip, following the edge of
the thong. He pulled him towards her, pulling him into her, her breasts pressed against his chest,
his hardness pressing against her. He put his face against her neck, breathing her in. She allowed
this for just a bit, her arms wrapped around him, and after too brief an interval, she pulled away.

"You know that man-barrier I have?" she asked, her eyes locked on his. "You're breaking them
down."

***

One morning, alone in the house (no daughter, now 5, to watch over them), he woke up early. He
normally did, unable to sleep past 5:30 or so, excited to be in her house even after months of
sleep-overs. He trotted into the kitchen, but she wasn't there. He looked up the stairs. He so
desperately wanted to go up, but he was scared. What if she got mad and banished him? He'd
never forgive himself. But recently, they'd been closer and closer. When alone in the house, she'd
let him hold her close to him. She welcomed his hugs, and he'd put his hand on her thigh when
she drove. Her visits to his work would consist of them walking into a private corner, her
showing him her outfit underneath, and they'd hold each other, quiet, pressing, enjoying the
closeness. He looked up again and made up his mind.