The one with a job interview

So I had yet another interview. It took place Friday morning. So you know I got all dressed up:


Don’t worry I didn’t bring the bindle in with me.

(Vague reference FTW!)

AnyJustAStickWithABandanTiedToIt I had a second interview. The first one took place on the phone the night before. They both went well. No I won’t tell you the place. No I have not been offered the job yet. Yes I will give you an imaginary taste of what happened.

The phone interview lasted about 2 minutes and sort of seemed pointless. It was deemed a “getting to know you a little better” conversation. So I was prepared to answer questions about my favorite sports, hobbies and what type of porn I like to watch.

Nope. It was the standard interview questions. The next day I showed up bright and early.

(12 minutes to be exact.)

So I sat on the cushy couch and waited. Slowly some lines for a poem started to slip n slide around in my head.


And they kept pushing their way in. Finally I pulled my phone out to jot some notes down and of course the interview comes out and greets me. Okay got to nail the hand shake. You know? Nice and firm but not too firm.

Side note: The night before the wifey made me put on the “outfit” she picked out for me. After I had it on she then introduced herself and offered her hand. I just stuck my hand out half heartedly (because I was not interested in playing the game) and she made fun of the hand shake.

AnyWifeGivingHerHusbandAComplex when the interviewer extended her hand I was thinking about the night before. I needed to do it just right. Strong and confident like:


(I may have taken it too far but to be fair look at her muscles. Plus you know I momentarily turned into Hulk Hogan!)

So we head to this room. I’m left in there by myself for a few minutes. Just enough time for the damn lines of poetry to start and she came back in.

(Why do these people hate poetry??)

She had a script sheet and a questionnaire.

Her: Typical interview question.
Me: Typical interview answer.
Her: Another typical interview question.
Me: Another typical interview answer.
Her: Third typical question.
Me: Third typical answer.
Her: Fourth typical question.
Me: Fourth typical answer.

(Shouldn’t she be writing these down? She won’t remember my answers! Oh no!)

Her: Why did you want to work in our poop scooping department?*

(*not the actual position)

Me: It pays? Shouldn’t you be writing this stuff down?
Her: Okay thank you wait here and in a minute the Department Manager will be here to ask you some questions.
Me: Do you want to leave the paper and I’ll write the answers?

A few minutes later he comes in with the same questionnaire. He opens it and looks at it for a few seconds.

Me: Look I answered them she just didn’t write them down.
Him: I’m going to ask you the same questions and not any of them down either now.


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