In which the tables are turned

PEOPLE OF EARTH:

In celebration of the fact that I have managed to snag myself an occasional freelance gig, and it's too early to start the celebratory drinking, I've decided instead to write up a terrible interview story that has a delightful twist to it.

A few months ago, I was at a birthday party for one of my friends, and was talking to his roommate, whom I'd never met before. He was talking about how he wanted to prank this guy that he worked with - there was an open accounting position at their company, and this guy had interviewed a bunch of people for the job but hadn't actually hired anyone yet, and it was getting kind of annoying for everyone else. Also, the guy was kind of a tool.

So, in other words, a perfect prank target.

"Yeah, I really want to have someone come in to interview with him, and just be, like, the worst person ever," said my friend's roommate. "Just give the most absolute worst interview and freak him out."

"Heee!" I said. "That would actually be really funny to watch."

"Oh, so you're going to do it?" said my friend, appearing from out of nowhere.

"I - what?" I said.

"I suggested you, as the person to do it," said my friend. "To be the fake interviewee. I mean, you're not doing anything during the day."

Ahem.

"Oh stop," said my friend, who, I should say, was also unemployed at the time. "I can't do it myself, and you'd have fun with it, right?"

"Hmmm," I said.

"We'll tell you everything you'll need to know," said my friend's roommate. "All you have to do is act like it's a real interview."

"Well," I said, "I mean...oh...alright, WHY NOT," and took another swig of beer.

I mean, I wasn't really doing anything during the day.

So.

A week later, I am on my way to this company to "interview" for an accounting job. My friend's roommate and his coworkers had made up a fake resume for me, and had written down a bunch of suggestions of things to say, and also gave me an "interview survey" that I needed to have this guy fill out at the end of the interview - a written assessment of my interviewing skillz.

"How am I supposed to get him to do that?" I asked.

"Just, you know, hand it to him at the end," said my friend's roommate - whom I'm going to call "Paul" from now on to avoid confusion - while we conferred in the car on the way over to his office building. "OK, so, you kind of have free reign - put your feet up, say inappropriate things, just basically try and be the worst possible job candidate in the entire world. Oh - did you bring any gum? You should probably chew gum during the interview."

"Oh," I said, "no, but I brought a bag of carrots."

Pause.

Paul: "Yessssssssssssssssssss."

So, Paul drops me off at the office building and goes to park his car and sneak back inside so he wouldn't be seen with me, and I mosey up to the office and announce that I'm here for an interview for the accounting job.

Also, side note, I've mentioned this before but it should be said again that I have ABSOLUTELY NO MATH SKILLS WHATSOEVER. And I am supposed to be legitimately passing as an accountant during this interview. Hmmm.

Anyway, so I'm sitting in the lobby, dressed in my interview best, when the prank target comes out. We'll call him... "Ron."

Ron: "[K]? Thanks for coming in, let's get started."

Me: "Ok, great."

We sit in the conference room. I slouch in my chair.

Ron: "Now, why don't you tell me a little bit about your background."

Me: "Sure."

I put my feet up on the chair next to me.

Ron: Appears unfazed.

Hmmm.

Me: "Well, I graduated from...from..."

Oh my gosh, I can't remember what my fake resume says.

Me: "Um...well, I graduated from...college...and started working in the accounting field. I worked for a nonprofit and then I moved to the American Diabetes Association, which is where I am currently."

Ron: "Cool."

Me: "Yep. I work in the fundraising department. But, you know, I'm looking to make a change. I have an ethical conflict."

Ron: "Oh. Really?"

Me: "Yeah. I mean, all day long, people are calling me, wanting to make donations. But GOD I just want to be all, YOU'RE WASTING YOUR MONEY, PEOPLE."

Ron: "Uh...why?"

Me: "I just think of diabetes as, like, a weak disease, you know? I mean, worst case scenario, what - you lose a foot?"

Ron: Perplexed silence.

Me: "Oh nooooo, my FOOT is gone! OH HORRORS! God. I just want to say to these people - why don't you give your money to a place that prevents, like, a real disease? Like AIDS."

Ron: Continued perplexed silence.

I stretch my legs out in my chair.

Ron: "Um...ok."

Me, pulling out my bag of carrots: "Do you mind if I eat? I have low blood sugar."

Ron: "Uh - no, go ahead."

Me: "Thanks."

Ron: "So - well, let me tell you a little bit about the job. It's in the accounting department - "

Me: CRUNCH CRUNCH BITE CARROT CRUNCH CRUNCH CRUNCH.

Ron: "And...er...well, we're looking to move pretty quickly on this, and..."

CRUNCH CRUNCH CRUNCH. Swallow.

Me: "Yeah, it sounds great. I hope it's not too math-heavy, though."

Ron, laughing uncomfortably: "Really? Why?"

Me: "I mean, I technically work in fundraising now, but I'm not exactly 'good with numbers' [complete with air quotes] so, yeah."

Ron: "Well - ha - that's - haha, that's alright."

Me: "Great!" Crunch crunch.

My cell phone, which I have conveniently set to a super annoying, high-pitched ring tone, rings.

REEEEEEEEEEEEEEE TEE TEE TEE REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE TEE TEE TEE REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE TEE TEE TEE REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Me: "Oh! I'm sorry - I just need to get this. Won't take a minute. Hello?"

Paul, who is on the other end of the line: "How's it going?"

Me: "OH HEY BOO!" Pause. "Yeah, I can talk." Pause. "Oh, no, nothing important. What's up?"

Paul then feeds me a bunch of hilarious lines that sadly I CAN'T REMEMBER. Real "Paul," do you remember? I feel like we staged a fight, but I don't know. Whatever it was, it went on for, like, ten minutes, while "Ron" started to look increasingly awkward and annoyed at the same time. Anyway.

Me, hanging up the phone: "Sorry about that."

Ron: "No problem."

Me: "Great. Superrrrr."

Ron: "So. Where do you see yourself in five years?"

Me: "Oh. Actually, I kind of just want to get married, and just...not do anything."

Ron: "I see."

Me: "Incidentally, what is your policy on inter-office dating?"

Ron, laughing uncomfortably: "Oh haa har, uh, I don't think there is one. I guess you just shouldn't, like, date the boss, maybe."

Me: "Oh, I KNOW. Believe me. Learned that one the hard way."

Ron actually looks somewhat impressed/extremely interested by this. Ha. Boys.

Me: CRUNCH CRUNCH MORE CARROTS CRUNCH.

Ron: "If you could do one thing in the last five years differently, what would it be?"

Me, putting my feet up in the desk: "Um, I guess back when I was a freshman at U -" I stop myself just in time from saying my actual alma mater, before remember that I have a fake resume that I'm supposed to be sticking to.

Me: "At - um, at - at [college on fake resume] - well, I had a minor accident with a car."

Ron: "Really."

Me: "Yeah. But that guy didn't have to lose his leg after all, so actually, maybe I wouldn't do it differently."

Ron: Staring pensively off into space.

Me: "Um...what would you do differently?"

Ron then launches into a really heartfelt story about how he wouldn't have stopped playing AA baseball during college. It's actually really kind of emotional. I start to feel like an ass.

Me: "Wow. Well...you can...always play baseball, now, for...like...a league here, maybe?"

Ron: "Well, anyway, as I said, we're going to make a decision pretty quickly, so - oh, I forgot to ask, how did you find out about this position?"

Me, remembering on that on my fake resume, it says I know a real person at the company: "Oh, I know [actual employee], she told me about it."

Ron: "Oh, you know [actual employee]! That's great."

Me: "Yeah. She's kind of a bitch, though."

Ron: Stunned silence.

Me: "Oh! I forgot - before I leave, could you just, um, fill out this survey for me?"

Ron, taking the paper and looking puzzled: "Survey?"

Me: "Yeah, it's - ah - my, ah, therapist, she thinks it would be a good idea for me to get feedback on my interviewing skills."

Ron: "Oh. Sure."

We walk out of the conference room, around the corner, and into the lobby where the ENTIRE COMPANY IS APPLAUDING.

Ron: "I KNEW IT! I KNEW THIS COULD NOT HAVE BEEN A REAL INTERVIEW, I KNEW IT!"



Ahhhhh. Prank: successful. And I must say, getting to say crazy things and watching the INTERVIEWER squirm for once, instead of the other way around, was the BEST FEELING EVER.

Poor guy, though. I hope he's forgiven me by now.