By Ken S. McAllister and Judd Ethan Ruggill

It's common knowledge that college campuses can be wild and woolly places, with all manner of strange creatures roaming the hallways, quads, and classrooms. Less well known is the fact that this menagerie is seldom experienced in toto; the campus ecosystem is such that most of its creatures never cross paths, let alone act in singular purpose.

The one exception is the campus visit, when predator, prey, and pedant alike come together for three days of nonstop job interviews, presentations, tours, bruised egos, sore feet, and some generally decent eats. Woe to the unsuspecting job seeker who is ill prepared to come face to face with this awkward and contradictory conglomeration, a mass that defies the laws of god, nature, common sense, and certainly good taste. Indeed, by the time many candidates realize their predicament, they're already sitting on the tarmac heading home, praying for miracles but suspecting that none will come.

In the interest of fortifying this year's job seekers, we've compiled a catalog of the most common creatures of the campus visit. Some will be all too familiar even to the unjaundiced eye of the newly minted Ph.D.—they are the native fauna that nurtured the candidate through course work, comprehensives, and the trials of the dissertation. Other beasts may seem so strange as to sound mythical, or at least foreign. Rest assured: In creating this compendium we've drawn on a multitude of sources, including our own extensive experiences on both sides of the interview table, as well those of our colleagues and cadres. The creatures described here are all uncompromisingly real, whether they be purebred or pound mutt.

BFF: It's love at first site with the BFF you meet during your campus visit. It's as if you two were peas in a pod, and the magic continues well after the interview is over. It's BFF who writes you a sweet, off-the-record letter explaining why the committee ultimately went in a different direction. But you can still be friends, right?

Bjorn Turawk: BT was indeed "born to rock," and is all about ambition and self-aggrandizement. Regardless of gender, BT comes complete with a stuffed codpiece and adoring fans. Worship appropriately or unceremoniously be shown the door.

Crewman No. 2: This is the totally random person who somehow gets put on the interview schedule. Crewman No. 2 has nothing to do with the search (or even the department, really), yet gets an hour's worth of uncomfortable face time with you in the midst of the campus visit. Unlike a Star Trek episode, however, this creature is not killed off by aliens.

Dobb L. Ganger: Dobb feels your pain on this interview because Dobb went through the same process 12 years ago. Like an air bag that deploys too quickly and kills the passenger, Dobb moves in on you so fast that you don't even see the shambling mound of post-traumatic stress engulfing you. Thanks to Dobb, you may well spend the entire visit acting defensive and paranoid even though your interviewers are behaving like perfectly reasonable human beings.

Free(loader) Willy: The only reason that FW comes to your job talk is for the canapés that follow. Don't get too close, or FW might mistake one of your fingers for an amuse-bouche.

Gary Busey: This local eccentric is super fun to talk with, full of wacky ideas, incredibly well read, and is actually familiar with your work (unlike most of the folks on the hiring committee). But beware: While no one will admit it, GB is universally envied and feared, and if you're seen consorting with this loose cannon, you'll soon find yourself in receipt of a "Thanks, but no thanks" letter.

General Sir: GS operates with an enviable but ruthless efficiency. Like Mussolini, GS makes the trains run on time, and the runaway freight train that is your campus visit is no exception. Just salute and follow orders like everyone else, and you should be fine.

Heaven Scent: Like the smell of warm chocolate-chip cookies, this administrative assistant will make even the worst visit seem bearable. Always ready with a smile, a hot cup of coffee, or a word of encouragement, HS comes off as a beacon of hope and sanity. Of course, HS has seen your kind come and go countless times, including the two candidates who preceded you in the search.

Honest Abe: Good ol' Abe will tell you whatever you want to know. And we mean everything, from who's a royal pain to who's into royal pain. The thing is, Abe won't volunteer anything juicy—you have to figure out precisely what to ask, which tends to be easier said than done. Also (and this is a big one), what will Abe say about you when you're gone, and to whom?

Ivanna Seddup: The consummate administrator, IS doesn't particularly care about your ideas, influences, or contributions to the field. Nevertheless, IS puts you in innumerable situations in which you are "given the opportunity" to trumpet said information to nearby people who might themselves care (but usually don't).

Kindly Old Coot: KOC is well-meaning but powerless, perfect for fun hallway conversations, bad puns, and making you feel at ease (even a bit arrogant). KOC seems genuinely interested in you and your work but isn't in a position to do anything about it.

Liberal Lou: Even though nothing like you, LL reads your skin tone, gender, sexual orientation, fashion sense, or funny accent and thinks he knows what a hard time you've had getting to this point in your career. Moreover, he truly admires you for your accomplishment and tells you so. Repeatedly. Never mind the fact that the only reason you weren't born with a silver spoon in your mouthis that your gob was stopped with aplatinum spork. LL senses the hardships of "people like you" and is ready to sell any nonbelieving colleague down the river in order to bring one of your kind aboard.

Malibu Stacy: "Hip, hip, hooray! Hiring U is an unbelievable place to work," or so MS will tell you incessantly, until you look for a bus to throw yourself under. Part cheerleader, part Cyberdyne Systems Model 101, MS will ply you with tales of fabulous collegiality, institutional largess, and free cotton candy at faculty meetings.

Mata Hari: MH sweetly seduces you with all manner of "inside information," only to screw you royally after the visit. In many ways MH is the most sinister of all the creatues. Or is she? Maybe her seeming and multiple betrayals, not to mention her well-documented reputation, are insidious inventions of the enemy. Sadly for your career and personal happiness, there's only one way to find out.

Missing Link: ML is the committee member who's way too busy to meet with you during your three-day visit (or even attend your job talk), yet somehow manages to wield considerable power in the search. Should you get the job, you'll discover that ML is actually one of the most responsible members of the faculty.

Mr. Bitterman: Life at Hiring U is one long, excruciating dental visit for MB, and he's not at all shy about telling you how much pain he and the department/university are in. Unfortunately, MB doesn't come with a supply of laughing gas or good magazines.

Silent But Deadly: SBD is the only one in the room more uncomfortable than you. This creature is often silent (even off-puttingly so), nearly impossible to engage in conversation, and yet has managed to get a job (usually a pretty good one, with a fair bit of power and a decent salary) at the very institution you're visiting. As the "deadly" implies, SBD may well be the one to kill your chances.

Susie Scowling: From the airport to the cocktail party to the job talk to the teaching demonstration, SS never seems anything but skeptical (and even slightly annoyed) about everything you say. When you get the job anyway, you realize that's just the way SS's face is built—you think.

Terry Tugud: At first, Professor Tugud seems a bit remote, but after hearing you weather a vicious interrogation by several Marxist graduate students born in—and destined to return to—the suburbs, Tugud opens up and actually provides you with some useful information. When you leave, you know that even if you don't get the job, you've got a hotel-lobby drinking buddy for life.

Toxic Avenger: TA is hellbent on breaking you and will even self-immolate to do so. Why? Who knows? Just take it, sissy, and squirm like the groveling lowlife job seeker you are.

This bestiary is intended as a talisman as well as guide. Forewarned is forearmed, and we compel job seekers of all types to call upon the protective power of this list if things start to go sideways. A short incantation or invocation may well be all that's needed to right a sinking ship.

Nota bene: It's not unusual for campus creatures to be hybrids, or to move fluidly among types, consciously or over time. There's something about university life that encourages reincarnation, and, to be honest, we freely (though somewhat ashamedly) admit to having cycled through several of these characters ourselves at one time or another. We imagine most readers have as well.

Ken S. McAllister is an associate professor of rhetoric at the University of Arizona, and Judd Ethan Ruggill is an assistant professor of communication studies at Arizona State University.