Horrible Job Interview Stories
Job interviews are a fact of life for those of us who have to work for a living (and that's pretty much all of us). While even the most productive and positive job interview can be stressful depending on the circumstances, some of us have some downright horrifying stories from various job interviews.
So if you've ever had a job interview that's gone sideways, don't despair: others have had similar experiences. In fact, there's a good chance that some of these stories are worse than any interview you've ever had to sit through.
There Were Others
I spent three hours in an interview with a team that was warm, engaged, and kept saying things like, "You'd be a great fit here," and “We could really use someone with your background.” Then, when the senior management showed up, everything shifted. They acted indifferent, whispered among themselves, and directed comments at me like, “Maybe we’ll pick you, maybe we’ll outsource—why don’t you sell yourself?” while the rest of the team visibly winced. It was painfully awkward.
I finally spoke up: “It looks like you have a strong team here, but I’m not interested in working under hostile leadership.” Immediately, their demeanor shifted, and they scrambled to recover. It was clear they were attempting some kind of reverse psychology on salary. They even called multiple times afterward, asking me to come back, but I wasn’t budging.
Not long after, the company was sold, and from what I’ve heard, they ended up replacing a lot of people.
Just Keep It Simple
I ran into one of those ridiculous interview setups. They seated me at a low table on a short chair, put a carafe of water with an empty glass just out of reach so I'd have to stand to pour it, and then had six employees interview me from a tall table with high chairs. Every question seemed designed to probe my personality rather than my actual skills.
It was painfully obvious they were trying to throw me off. An interview should be a conversation, not a test of endurance. When it feels like an interrogation, I walk away. In my experience, that’s a surefire warning that the company culture is terrible—so far, I haven’t seen an exception.
Since I Showed Up...
Three panelists rotated asking questions for almost ninety minutes. By the fifteen-minute mark, I had already decided I wouldn't accept an offer. They never actually gave me one—by the fiftieth minute, my responses had devolved into, "I don’t know, what would you do here?" I was too junior to just walk out, especially since they had covered my travel to Montreal.
On the plus side, it wasn’t a complete loss—I ended up enjoying a four-day trip and had a great time exploring Montreal!
Wish I Was An Extrovert
I interviewed for a position that was supposed to be a tech role—maintaining and updating the company website. About halfway through the hour-long interview, they asked if I was comfortable with sales, explaining that half the job involved cold-calling clients and hitting monthly sales targets. I'm extremely introverted, so the answer was a clear no.
Had the job posting been upfront about the significant sales and customer-contact responsibilities, I wouldn’t have even applied. They never called me back, and honestly, I was relieved.
Treated Like A Criminal
I expected a panel interview lasting maybe an hour, but it turned into an absolute nightmare. Instead of one session, I went through six separate one-on-one interviews that took up the entire afternoon. Since I was paid hourly, I could feel the money slipping away while they kept asking the same questions over and over, like I was on trial.
By the time the fourth interview ended, I asked—slightly irritated—how many more were left. They said two. At that point, I intentionally bombed the rest; a $30k tech job wasn't worth that kind of grilling. The worst part? Not a single person offered a restroom or water break. After three hours of talking, a glass of water isn’t too much to ask.
You're Paying How Much?!
The woman conducting the interview asked if I'd be willing to accept a three-month probationary period. If, after three months, they decided I wasn’t a fit, they’d let me go—and pay me just ten cents on the dollar for every hour I’d worked. If they kept me, I’d receive a full paycheck plus a $500 bonus for office supplies—but only from a catalog they approved.
I nearly laughed out loud.
I'm Outta Here
This was a grad school interview, but it completely convinced me to focus on other programs instead. I was asked to prepare a five-minute Zoom presentation to start the interview. About a minute in, I got a rude surprise: the interviewer stood up and walked away from her laptop, returning about a minute later.
She missed roughly 20% of my presentation. I continued anyway, since a student representative was also on the call, but the faculty member never apologized or even acknowledged stepping away. If I'm not worth five minutes of attention as a prospective student, then my tens of thousands of dollars aren’t worth your program.
Fortuitously, I was accepted into my top-choice program later that same day.
I Guess I Can't Find An Excuse
I had an interview at a "no excuses" charter school. They presented a scenario: a student comes to class without his homework, explaining that he spent the night in the ER because his brother was seriously injured.
The school's policy required a detention for any missed homework. I simply could not, in good conscience, respond the way they expected.
Seriously, Pay Me
I went to interview for an entry-level marketing role in the film industry. About two hours in, the boss casually mentioned that I wouldn't be paid for the first few months while they trained me—even though it was a full-time position.
On top of that, he expected me to start that very day…using my own laptop. I quickly made an excuse and left soon after.
Brilliant Minds?
I once interviewed at a small law firm with the owner. About ten minutes into sitting in the meeting room alone, I got up and started walking toward the hallway to leave. The owner stopped me—not with an apology, just a comment about having a busy day. When we finally spoke, she explained she wanted to compete with LegalZoom.
Her plan was to create a similar service and expand it slightly, even though the firm had no tech staff and was a tiny boutique operation. I stood up, shook her hand, wished her luck, and left. Two days later, I got an email saying they were moving forward with other candidates. I couldn't help but laugh.
A Different Approach
I showed up for a hiring event for construction and trade work. I'm a plumber, and work was slow in my city at the time, so I figured I’d give it a shot. Everything seemed legitimate at first—until they sat us down to talk about the actual job. They claimed to be one of the companies building Rogers Place in Edmonton.
After a few sketchy details, they said, "But if you don’t want to do that, you can…"—and then spent the rest of the time pitching door-to-door sales, mostly chocolate, in high-end neighborhoods. They talked construction for maybe 15 minutes; the rest was chocolate, UNICEF fundraising, and promises of making $150k+ a year. I left about 20 minutes into it.
A friend of mine stuck it out and had some hilarious stories. Ironically, just 30 minutes after I left, I got a call from a real contractor on the Rogers Place project—and ended up working for them for over four years.
You Sure About That?
I know an engineer who went to a headhunter for help finding a job. The first thing they told him? He needed to shave his beard. The headhunter managed to set up a group interview with an engineering firm.
When he walked in, his freshly shaved face had obvious tan lines—and every single male engineer on the panel had a full beard!
Feeling Confident
I interviewed with Radio Shack around 1990. I was a home stereo enthusiast looking for my next college job. The interview went well, and he asked if I had any questions. I asked about pay. He explained there was a base rate, close to minimum wage, but salespeople were "expected" to make up the rest with commissions.
Then he added that the vacancy existed because the previous person couldn't meet those expectations consistently, and asked, “How do you feel about that?” I answered honestly: “Well, I can’t say I’m confident enough in your product line to feel great about that.” That pretty much ended the interview.
A Total Know-it-All
I'm a vet tech and once interviewed at a single-doctor, primary care practice. The manager was over 25 minutes late. While I waited, the front desk staff ignored me and gossiping about the techs, the manager, and even clients. When the manager finally arrived, she told me they didn’t believe in referring to specialists because "Dr. A is a specialist in everything from grizzly bears to canaries."
He wasn’t. He hadn’t done a rotating internship or any residency program. I’d already worked in a rough clinic, but at least the doctors there were competent. When she asked if I had any questions, I knew exactly what to say—I just asked for my resume back so I wouldn’t waste the paper.
What Have You Done?
The first half hour of the interview was the woman who would have been my boss going on and on about her own accomplishments. She was the director of a tiny museum in the small town we'd just moved to for my wife’s job. It was awkward, and the two board members sitting in looked even more uncomfortable than I did. I’m not sure if she was intimidated by me or just loved to talk about herself, but I immediately thought, "There’s no amount of money that would make me work for her."
After her 30 minutes of self-praise, there was about half a minute of silence. I glanced at the board members and asked, “So…any questions for me?” I got a call that night with a job offer—and I turned it down. One of the board members even called later, asking if there was any way they could convince me to accept. I was honest: I simply couldn’t work for that director. They understood completely.
The Big Boss
I had an interview decades ago, in my early 20s. The meeting with the hiring manager went well, I met the team, and we chatted for a while. Then the manager said, "Hey, you should meet our director!" We walked to his office, and he introduced me. When the director turned around, I got a reaction I could never have anticipated.
He literally pulled his legs up into his chair and hugged them, like a child trying to protect himself. I have no idea who I reminded him of—or what trauma I triggered—but I knew immediately I wasn't getting that job.
That Seems Unprofessional
I was interviewing for an admin position, and things were going okay. The interviewer was a bit of a jerk, but I thought, "I've worked with worse." His assistant knocked on the door a few times, saying she had something urgent. He shouted for her to go away—he was in an interview.
On the fifth knock, he flung the door open and went off on her, calling her every foul name imaginable, and some he invented. She calmly told him his car was being towed for non-payment. I didn’t stick around for the aftermath—I got up and left as fast as I could.
Is That How You Dog?
Back in the day, I was looking for a part-time dog-walking job—I like walking, I like dogs, and I like getting paid. At the interview, I asked if I could hear more about the company. Instead, the owner launched into a 25-minute rant about being a "reactionary holistic rebellion against big dog food and the predatory animal medical industry."
They went on about advising clients to feed their dogs only house-made raw meals and to rely entirely on holistic remedies and herbal treatments. My partner is a veterinarian. I thanked them for their time, said it didn't seem like a good fit, and walked out.
Who Truly Wants It?
It was a low-paying retail position, but the interview was set up as a joint session with another candidate. That immediately felt wrong—it pits people against each other and makes everything awkward. I was paired with a woman who had recently lost her job and was supporting her kids. I found myself awkwardly trying to make a stronger case, talking about how I needed the job to afford college.
If an interviewer can't take the time for separate interviews, it’s a red flag—things only get more uncomfortable from there.
Not Very Specific
When I was job hunting last, I went to an interview where the recruiter had straight-up misrepresented the position. The job posting had been vague enough that I was suspicious, but I didn't catch it until I got there. It turned out I wasn’t qualified anyway, so no offer came—and, naturally, it was a little embarrassing.
They were looking for a database admin, while my experience was mostly desktop-level work: Qt apps, embedded systems, and occasional kernel hacking. Even if I had been a fit, the recruiter lying was a major red flag. The office didn’t help either—it was super gloomy.
Going For Ages
This was during a phone screen, not an in-person interview—back in 1997, right in the middle of the .com boom. I'm a programmer, and the screener kept describing the company as "fast-paced." I asked what that really meant, and after some vague answers, I pressed further about the hours. That’s when I learned many people were working 60+ hours a week.
I politely declined. Sure, the company went public in early 1999, which might have been lucrative—but I had an 18-month-old daughter and another on the way. I was changing jobs to spend more time with them, not less. Looking back, I feel great about that choice.
Full-On Disaster
I once went to a job interview at a large welding shop during a heavy rainstorm. After about 30 minutes of talking, the interviewer led me out onto the shop floor to do a welding test. What happened next still surprises me. The machine he brought me to was in decent shape—but it was sitting directly in a puddle of water.
As you can imagine, that alone was dangerous. Then I noticed the welding table: rusty legs, poorly grounded, and also standing in the same puddle. More than half the shop was flooded. I turned around and said, "No thank you," and walked straight out. My life is worth more than $20 an hour.
I Told You Once, I Told You Twice
I applied for a register position at Pizza Hut and made it clear in both interviews that I couldn't do delivery because my car was unreliable. They acknowledged it and said it was fine. I got the job and showed up for training—only to be immediately seated and shown a delivery-driving training video.
I asked if I could skip it since I’d only be working the register and kitchen. The manager told me every employee was technically a delivery driver. I walked out right then and there—and at least got paid for an hour of training.
Why Even Interview?
The interviewer, who was the CEO, was 25 minutes late. When I dropped out of the Webex, he immediately called my cell and said, "Oh, you ran off so fast—you need to be more patient." I got back on, and he didn't apologize. Instead, he mocked me for leaving “so quickly.”
He asked me what I thought the position was, so I read back the job description and mentioned I actually had some questions. His response was unforgettable: “Everything you need to know is in the posting—if you had paid attention, you wouldn’t have questions.” He kept asking what the role was for, refusing my answers. After a few tries, I finally said, “I don’t think this is a right fit. Thank you for your time.”
He was a complete jerk, and honestly, I’m glad the interview went poorly.
Not Worth It!
It was my third and final interview at a tech company. The first two had gone well, and I was told this last one was mostly a formality—they wanted me on board. The meeting with the head of the office started fine. We walked to the cafeteria for coffee, made some small talk, and realized we knew a few of the same people.
Back in his office, he looked at my file and said, "It says here you're asking for a certain salary." I confirmed and explained it was in line with the market for someone with my experience. He looked at me and said, “I don’t think you’re worth it.” I replied, “Excuse me?” He repeated it. I laughed, grabbed my bag, thanked him for his time, and left.
The company went out of business about a year later—dodged a bullet.
Sounds Absolutely Miserable
I showed up, and the manager practically bragged about how the job offered no real breaks during an 8–10 hour shift. If there was a food break, it would be five minutes at a hip-height table with no chairs. She said you'd be fired for sitting down even for 30 seconds. I’m more than capable of that—I did it every day at my last job.
But when a manager brags about overworking employees and denying them even a moment to rest, it says everything about how little they value their staff. To top it off, the pay wasn’t great—just above minimum wage, not enough to really live on.
Like It Was Never There
I interviewed for a call center that raised donations for various non-profits. The interview was on a Thursday, and I was told to start the following Monday. When I showed up Monday morning, I got the shock of a lifetime—the entire business unit was completely empty. Wires were hanging from the ceiling, and the space was stripped to the floor.
Just a week earlier, I had seen 20–25 people working in cubicles, a manager's desk at the back, and a waiting area with chairs and a table. Somehow, the whole operation had vanished in three days. To this day, I have no idea what happened.
Is That Really A Warehouse?
I once showed up in a suit and tie for a job I'd applied for as a "warehouse worker" from a newspaper ad. Instead of an interview at the warehouse, they had me get into a truck with one of their employees. He drove me several hours away, pulled over in a random neighborhood, and explained that the job was actually going door-to-door selling meat—unsolicited.
I told him this wasn’t the warehouse job advertised, and that if he didn’t bring me back immediately, I would call the police to report a kidnapping. They returned me to my car, but I wasn’t compensated for the several hours of wasted time.
Getting In The Way
I went to a job interview and felt confident I had nailed it. A few days later, the recruitment agency that posted the job called me to come in and sign a contract. I showed up and was handed a 10-page document stating that they would hold my pay, taking a cut each month before paying me—and that they might withhold it further at their discretion, for example, if I took sick leave during probation. The company I worked for would give my paycheck to the agency, and they would then pay me.
I read through it, said I needed to step downstairs for a drink, and never went back. They called for months—I just ignored them. I still can't believe there were people who actually signed these ridiculous contracts.
That's Not How Language Works
I made a joke about being multilingual, but mentioned that Japanese wouldn't be useful for this job since there were almost no Japanese speakers in the area. The interviewer insisted I speak Japanese to a woman in the building—who, as it happened, was Chinese—to "prove" I could.
When I refused, pointing out she wasn’t Japanese, he laughed and said he knew I was lying. I walked out immediately.
High-Stakes Lunch
After two panel interviews, I was invited to lunch with the team—I pretty much knew the job was mine, and the lunch felt like a formality. We went to a random buffet at a forgettable hotel, miles from the office. Carpooling with the team, the vibe was immediately strange.
Everyone seemed to walk on eggshells around the manager, laughing way too loudly at her jokes. Once we sat down, the manager went to get her food, and when her phone rang, the rest of the team panicked, trying to answer before the second ring. Their deference was almost comical, and you could tell they were terrified of upsetting her.
I couldn't see myself working there. I turned down the offer the next day, and saw the job advertised again a few months later. Always trust your gut.
Not What I Expected
After finishing university, I didn't have a proper job lined up. I went to a temp agency and said I was looking for a short-term position to get experience in my field—I didn’t care exactly what it was or how much it paid. We talked about my qualifications, and at the end, they assured me they had the perfect job.
They told me someone would pick me up the next morning. I offered to drive myself, but they insisted on sending a minibus. Fine—I wasn’t picky, as long as it met my requests. The next day, the minibus arrived. Where did they take me? A salad-packing factory, where I spent the day literally packing salad.
I was getting paid, so no harm done, right? The kicker came at lunch: if I had just shown up at the factory myself, I probably would have been given work—and paid more than I was. Most of the staff, seasonal workers from Eastern Europe, did exactly that. Clearly, they sent us by minibus to keep us from walking out once we realized we’d been tricked. So I packed salad, finished lunch, and then walked home.
When You're Too Expensive
I moved to a new city and was looking for a job in my preferred field. I went to an interview with two well-polished women who owned the company. One of them said, "Glad you could make it! Before we really begin, I see what you were paid at your last job. Sorry, we can't afford to pay that much."
I knew exactly what to do. I smiled, stood up, and said, “Thank you for not wasting any more of my time.” The look on their faces was priceless. They were probably expecting negotiations, but honestly, anyone who starts an interview like that deserves a walkout.
Totally Zombified
I once had an interview where I spent nearly the entire day at the company. They gave me a tour, introduced me to everyone, and even had a group lunch. Everyone was very friendly, and the work sounded interesting, but I couldn't help noticing how tired everyone looked.
During a chat with one manager, the topic of travel came up. He mentioned it had been years since his last vacation, and after asking a few more questions, I realized that skipping vacations was pretty common there. A year later, I ran into the same manager—he was thrilled to report that he finally had a vacation booked. He still looked completely exhausted.
Yeah, That's Not Legal
Back in 2008, I spotted a Craigslist ad for a writing job. During the interview, it quickly became clear that the actual work involved creating hundreds of fake email accounts and posting reviews for products I'd never used. I hadn’t heard of this kind of thing before, so at one point I just laughed and said, "Isn’t that illegal?"
Thankfully, I never heard from them again.
Writing Your Own Ticket
I interviewed at a nationally known survey company back in the early '90s. I was a database administrator, and they were planning to migrate their data from flat files to an actual database. The last person I met with would have been my direct supervisor—and one of the first things he said was that he didn’t really think a database was necessary.
Back then, database administrators were in short supply—you could pretty much write your own ticket. There was no way I was going to waste time trying to work with someone who would fight the very idea of my job.
She Was Mean
I got through the interview and a day of training for a sales associate position in the handbag department of a big department store. I was shadowing an employee before getting my schedule. Everything was going well—the person I was shadowing was sweet and helpful—until I met the only other employee in the department.
Before I could even introduce myself, she immediately criticized my outfit, my posture, my smile…apparently my eyes were "blank," my smile “dull,” and I looked “simple.” Then she just walked away. I was too stunned to respond, standing there in shock.
The kind co-worker apologized profusely, but the damage was done. I had a moment of clarity: if I stayed, I'd be stuck with that awful woman in a miserable job for years. I called HR the next day to explain, and they threatened that quitting over the phone would get me blacklisted from all their stores. I told them I was fine with that and hung up.
It turned out to be a blessing. About two months later, I landed a nice, well-paying office job—and heard that the store ended up laying off half its workforce.
Don't Get Personal
This was for a management position running a mailroom—something I'd done twice before. The standard questions were asked, and I felt the interview was going well. Then suddenly he says, "I’m hearing a lot of 'I’ from you. I’m concerned because we’re about the team, not the individual, here."
Wait…what? It’s a job interview, and I’m answering questions you specifically asked me about myself. His comment made no sense. I don’t even remember exactly how I responded, but I knew I didn’t want to play his semantic mind games, which I suspected were only the tip of the iceberg. I steered the conversation toward ending the interview and left, making a subtle show of taking back the copies of my resume.
Parking Drama
A self-important security guard made me turn around before I even got inside for an interview. I had followed the instructions from the hiring manager to park in the designated guest spots. That's when the nightmare started. The guard stormed out of the building, yelling at me for parking there—barely out of the car.
When I raised my voice to get him to listen, he started yelling at me for yelling at him. Eventually, I explained that the hiring manager had told me to park there, and he called them, yelling about how I had "yelled" at him. Partway through the call, I thought, “Nah,” got back in my car, and drove off.
The hiring manager called to apologize and invited me back. I politely declined—I had no desire to deal with that guard again.
Stereotypes, Man
I was 19 and into arts and crafts, so I thought working at Jo-Ann Fabric would be perfect. I showed up dressed nicely for the interview, but the manager immediately gave me the stink eye. I was led to the office while she kept dropping hints, trying to get me to say something.
It didn't click until later in the interview. Things seemed fine—she seemed to like me and my experience—until she stopped hinting and just asked outright if I was gay, and whether my partner knew I was there. I’m straight. I was stunned, and then realized she wouldn’t move forward unless I lied.
Flabbergasted, I stood up, told her her assumptions were going to hurt her, and left. After talking to others who had worked there, I learned some straight guys had actually lied to get hired—she only hired gay men because she assumed straight guys wouldn’t know anything about crafts and were only there to hit on female customers.
Am I Free Labor?
I was interviewing for a dental assistant position. The doctor ran the entire interview like a monologue—she talked nonstop, giving me no chance to speak, and every sentence made the job sound worse. She admitted some shocking things: she partnered with dental assistant schools to get unpaid interns for free labor, and when some interns found better jobs, she tried to coerce them into staying longer.
Although she advertised a full-time role, she said it would be three days a week with irregular hours. Some weeks it was two days; some days they opened at 10 AM, and sometimes she'd leave early and expect me to go home too.
When it became clear she wasn’t letting me speak, I interrupted, thanked her for her time, said I needed a full-time position, and walked out. She followed me through the office, practically begging me to reconsider, claiming it would "become full-time." I nope’d out immediately.
When The Wires Are Crossed
I interviewed for a standard IT admin job. The posting said "bachelor's degree or equivalent experience," and I applied because I had 12 years of hands-on experience with their infrastructure. During the interview, the person who would have been my manager asked where I got my degree. I explained I’d gone to school for a few years but never finished, due to work and life circumstances, though I intended to complete it eventually.
He said, “I always insist that anyone I hire has a degree.” I replied, “Well, then I know all I need to know about your management style. I’d like to remove myself from consideration. Thank you for your time.” No need to be rude—and you never know how a reputation can be affected.
Afterwards, I asked the staffing agency why they submitted me for a job when the boss required a degree. It was a complete waste of everyone’s time.
Sounds Like The Right Call
After earning my bachelor's degree in engineering, I interviewed for a role in a reliability lab. During the process, I met a woman with a master’s degree in the same field who I would have been working alongside. From watching her work and hearing her describe it, it was obvious the tasks she was doing were far below her capabilities.
For context, I’d worked as a technician while in college, and that role had been more challenging and given me far more responsibility than what she was handling. I certainly hadn’t gone to school to take a step down in responsibility.
The field I’m in is pretty small, and later I ran into others who had worked at that company. They all confirmed I’d made the right choice to pass on the role.
When You're The Test Subject
Back in the early '90s, I was hanging out with friends in a Los Angeles diner when a producer from MTV’s The Real World approached me. They were casting for the second season and invited me to audition. It sounded fun, so I said why not—and ended up making it through four rounds of interviews, even meeting some executives.
At first, the questions were about my interests, background, and aspirations. But as the process went on, all they cared about was who I disliked, who I might clash with, and what personality traits set me off. That’s when I had a chilling realization: this didn’t sound like fun anymore; it felt like a psychology experiment, and not the enjoyable kind.
I politely declined and left. Hindsight makes it seem naive—reality TV, what did I expect?—but this was the early days of the genre.
Stop With The Delays
On the day of my interview, I didn't get a call at the expected time. No big deal, maybe they were running late. After about 10 minutes, I called, and the office manager said she had no idea why he hadn’t called and asked if I could hang around while she figured it out.
Thirty minutes later, the interviewer called, apologizing for an emergency and asked if we could reschedule for 5 PM. I agreed, but 5 PM came and went with no call. The next morning around 9, he called back, apologized again, and asked if we could do it then. I said fine.
During the interview, he was eating breakfast, which I had to listen to, and because I was on speakerphone, I could also hear his phone buzzing constantly with alerts. The whole experience was so awkward and unprofessional that even if they’d offered me the job, I wouldn’t have wanted it.
Feeling Infantilized
When I was interviewing for engineering internships in college, I had a meeting with a city department that oversaw road repair projects. One of the interviewers asked if I spoke Spanish, which I knew a little, and then followed up with a question I've never forgotten. He asked, "Would you feel comfortable giving instructions and keeping the field crews in line? They’re like managing children."
I’m not sure if he meant to compare Hispanic construction workers to children, but either way, the question rubbed me the wrong way. When they offered me the position a week later, I politely declined.
Did You Get It?
Years ago, I was flown out to Minnesota twice for interviews. After the first one, I was asked to complete a case study and project plan. I treated it like a real-world problem and laid out how I would actually solve it. They called within a day and said they wanted me back to meet the EVP who would be running the department I was supposedly going to lead.
It felt like a formality and that the job was mine—how wrong I was. The VP of HR picked me up personally at the airport, and during the 30-minute drive and the 30 minutes waiting at the building, all we talked about was real estate, schools for our kids, the people my family would meet, and how amazing everything was. It was basically an unspoken "welcome aboard."
I then met with the EVP. He was friendly, open, and we went around the building. We even showed me my office. I spent two hours with him discussing the role and his expectations. He said I'd get more information in a few days. I left, thinking it was a done deal.
Nothing. A week went by—nothing. Two weeks—still nothing. Three weeks later, I finally got an email from the VP of HR saying they were going in a different direction. When I pressed for details, I was told my case study was “too extreme.” One recommendation was a full audit of the portfolio to fix the error I’d identified—too costly and time-consuming, they said.
Fast forward a few years: the exact issue I highlighted ended up costing the company millions in fines. I laughed harder than I probably should have.
A Little Sob Story
I once tried applying for a telemarketing job. During the interview, the manager had me go into another room and call her as if she were a potential donor. I started working through the script, and she interrupted with, "Oh, but I'm just a poor college student with no money!"
Even knowing she was just pretending, I felt awful. It quickly became clear that I could never do this type of work for real. I told her coming in was a mistake and left.
Why Did You Set This Up?
Years ago, I went to an interview and sat down with the hiring manager. He spent a few minutes reading something on his computer, then glanced over my resume. Finally, he looked up and said, "I'm not sure why you applied for this job; you don’t have any of the skills or experience I’m looking for."
The arrogance was almost palpable, and it felt like a power play—maybe to lowball me. I hadn’t applied for anything I wasn’t qualified for, so I was instantly annoyed by the game-playing. I calmly said, “Then I’m not sure why you’re wasting my time,” and stood up to leave. He protested, “Oh, no, let’s talk,” but I told him I wasn’t interested and walked out.
That's Called Nepotism
I applied for a job in my office that I was extremely qualified for, but immediately got a letter saying I hadn't been selected. I was confused, but the truth eventually came out.
About six months later, I had a meeting with the department head about something unrelated and casually asked her about that position. She looked surprised and said she had no idea I’d applied. Apparently, six months earlier, they’d filled the role by hiring her friend because she needed a job. She added that if she’d known I applied, she would have hired me.
I laughed, she looked a little nervous, and I handed in my two weeks’ notice soon after. Good riddance.
Dan Gray
