Damn, but it is a strange strange world out there, and kudos to you, intrepid explorer, for using your mental machete to hack through it all and report back to those of us still trapped in the amber of 20th Century practices. The strangest job interview I can come up with would probably be my application to drive part time for Town Taxi, one of the main cab companies in Boston when I was in college back in the days before Lyft, Uber, GPS on your phone, and driverless cars, although there were plenty of cars driving around Boston that seemed like no one had their hands on the wheel. For those who don’t know Boston, the streets of much of the central part of town basically follow old cow paths or the stumbling, staggering steps of pre-Revolutionary War drunkards who wandered out of taverns looking for pizza or pasta to sober up, not realizing it would be a good 125-50 years before one of those joints opened up. Which is why so many streets meander aimlessly only to end back where they started or dead ending (appropriately) at a cemetery loaded with headstones for people named Hezekiah, Ebenezer, Quill, Lavinia and Sophronia. Anyhoo, one Saturday I went in nervously expecting to be handed a map of the city and told to come back when I’d memorized major thoroughfares and landmarks, knew how to get to at least five major sections of town and four suburbs and which graveyard Paul Revere was buried in. You know, like one-eighth of what London cabbies are required to know. Instead, the guy interviewing me seemed more interested in the Dunkin Donut he was dipping in a lukewarm cup of Dunkin coffee. With a mouthful of dough he asked if I had a criminal record. I said no. He then asked to see my arms, and when he couldn’t detect any track marks he asked if I wanted to start that day. I did, and for the first two months the first thing I said to people was, “If you don’t know how to get to where you’re going, you should take another cab.” Only survived those early days because as a part-timer I got the crappiest cars in the garage. Dings, dents, doors that wouldn’t open or wouldn’t stay closed. Other drivers saw I had nothing to lose, which gave me a strategic advantage in the bumper car world of central Boston. Learned a lot, never got robbed, and only got lost once or twice each day I drove. Terrifying then, fun to look back on now.
One of my early jobs was as a “hot walker” at Hollywood Park Racetrack. This is the absolute lowest job a person can get at any track (or in the world?). The horses are “worked” very early in the morning before the heat of the day. Even so the thoroughbred still returns sweaty and he/she would be handed off to me or one of the others (all men) and we would work in circles for 20 minutes until the horse was cool and calm.
The real cherry on the top was to learn a special whistle that brought on urination when you put them in their stall. No colic allowed.
Honestly I loved it. People were lovely, horses everywhere, one of my favorite jobs. Horses…
Many moons ago I had my interviewer completely forget to show up for my interview. I was awkwardly standing outside of the building for 15 minutes because they weren't open yet.
They called me later and said they forgot to show up and, when I set up a new interview with them and came to that one, I didn't get the job anyway. Hooray!
I interviewed to be a cutco knife salesman when I was 18 in some warehouse style building where they basically just pitch you the knives and then ask if you’re down to sell them. Feels so vintage compared to your AI interview.
I cannot think of any strange job interviews. All were pretty much what I expected - no curveballs.
But an AI interviewer is terrifying. What has the world come to. All of this AI energy is really concerning especially the actual amount of electricity it takes to power the data centers that enable AI to work.
My strangest interview was when I applied for a job at a business my friend's family owned. I was grilled by the matriarch of the family who did her best to see if I was actually worthy of representing their interests. It turned out well, at least it did for me. It was a fun short term job with a long term perk. I've been an unofficial family member ever since.
I can’t top Steven’s story nor his writing….but yours was fascinating Will - I’m sorry that this is such a grind for you now, and we are all pulling for you. My strangest interview was actually a non-interview. Because I had a high GPA in college I was automatically selected to have a summer job at the US Postal Service. (I will leave the study of the relationship between GPA and a successful postal delivery person to some anthropology PhD student). Anyway, my salary for that summer jumped from $1.50/hr (flipping hamburgers) to $7.75/hr (being chased by dogs). And the test for operating a right-side drive postal vehicle? One lap around the parking lot and good to go! I continue to be amazed when something I put in the mail actually gets to its destination - most of the time.
When I was 17, the summer before I started college, for some reason I thought I should get a job. (School always came first, and I was never required by my parents to get a job.) I chose a day camp. The job interview was the camp owner looking at my parents' 1965 Ford Country Sedan and seeing that it could seat 11. I was hired. The job sucked, the guy ran a horribly dangerous camp (tip-off, the job interview), and he expected me to pick up 10 kids and get to each day's location in an impossibly short amount of time. And I supervised 10 kids whose parents couldn't stand to be with them (tip-off, they had them in this horrible camp). I had always heard you had to give two weeks notice, so at the end of the first week I did. I should have just quit immediately, but whatever. Three of the ugliest weeks of my life, with a perfectly appropriate last day -- a kid throwing up (I got him out of the car just in time) and another kid getting his finger shut in the car door.
Damn, but it is a strange strange world out there, and kudos to you, intrepid explorer, for using your mental machete to hack through it all and report back to those of us still trapped in the amber of 20th Century practices. The strangest job interview I can come up with would probably be my application to drive part time for Town Taxi, one of the main cab companies in Boston when I was in college back in the days before Lyft, Uber, GPS on your phone, and driverless cars, although there were plenty of cars driving around Boston that seemed like no one had their hands on the wheel. For those who don’t know Boston, the streets of much of the central part of town basically follow old cow paths or the stumbling, staggering steps of pre-Revolutionary War drunkards who wandered out of taverns looking for pizza or pasta to sober up, not realizing it would be a good 125-50 years before one of those joints opened up. Which is why so many streets meander aimlessly only to end back where they started or dead ending (appropriately) at a cemetery loaded with headstones for people named Hezekiah, Ebenezer, Quill, Lavinia and Sophronia. Anyhoo, one Saturday I went in nervously expecting to be handed a map of the city and told to come back when I’d memorized major thoroughfares and landmarks, knew how to get to at least five major sections of town and four suburbs and which graveyard Paul Revere was buried in. You know, like one-eighth of what London cabbies are required to know. Instead, the guy interviewing me seemed more interested in the Dunkin Donut he was dipping in a lukewarm cup of Dunkin coffee. With a mouthful of dough he asked if I had a criminal record. I said no. He then asked to see my arms, and when he couldn’t detect any track marks he asked if I wanted to start that day. I did, and for the first two months the first thing I said to people was, “If you don’t know how to get to where you’re going, you should take another cab.” Only survived those early days because as a part-timer I got the crappiest cars in the garage. Dings, dents, doors that wouldn’t open or wouldn’t stay closed. Other drivers saw I had nothing to lose, which gave me a strategic advantage in the bumper car world of central Boston. Learned a lot, never got robbed, and only got lost once or twice each day I drove. Terrifying then, fun to look back on now.
And to think, I had to do like 10 online courses to drive for Lyft and that was 8 years ago and they didn't even give me a car!
I completely agree. You guys have gotten royally screwed!
How did I never know this story?! Amazing.
These comments are amazing!
One of my early jobs was as a “hot walker” at Hollywood Park Racetrack. This is the absolute lowest job a person can get at any track (or in the world?). The horses are “worked” very early in the morning before the heat of the day. Even so the thoroughbred still returns sweaty and he/she would be handed off to me or one of the others (all men) and we would work in circles for 20 minutes until the horse was cool and calm.
The real cherry on the top was to learn a special whistle that brought on urination when you put them in their stall. No colic allowed.
Honestly I loved it. People were lovely, horses everywhere, one of my favorite jobs. Horses…
Wow that sounds like the perfect job for someone who loves being around horses...although I bet the pay was terrible
Sounds like an amazing job !
Many moons ago I had my interviewer completely forget to show up for my interview. I was awkwardly standing outside of the building for 15 minutes because they weren't open yet.
They called me later and said they forgot to show up and, when I set up a new interview with them and came to that one, I didn't get the job anyway. Hooray!
We show up late, we don't get the job. They show up late, we still don't get the job. Gotta love capitalism!
I interviewed to be a cutco knife salesman when I was 18 in some warehouse style building where they basically just pitch you the knives and then ask if you’re down to sell them. Feels so vintage compared to your AI interview.
Ahahah I'm trying to imagine little 18 year old Cece going door to door selling knives
I cannot think of any strange job interviews. All were pretty much what I expected - no curveballs.
But an AI interviewer is terrifying. What has the world come to. All of this AI energy is really concerning especially the actual amount of electricity it takes to power the data centers that enable AI to work.
Yup, the whole situation isn't great
Wow, what an experience!! Keep us posted Will!
I promise I will!
My strangest interview was when I applied for a job at a business my friend's family owned. I was grilled by the matriarch of the family who did her best to see if I was actually worthy of representing their interests. It turned out well, at least it did for me. It was a fun short term job with a long term perk. I've been an unofficial family member ever since.
Wow, she sounds like a real tough cookie! what kind of family business was it? Or were they in the...sanitation business ;)
Will, it was your family's business! "She" was your grandma.
I saw that coming!
Are you related to Steven Peterman?
Yup!
If your father is still around, let him know I was thinking about him!
I can’t top Steven’s story nor his writing….but yours was fascinating Will - I’m sorry that this is such a grind for you now, and we are all pulling for you. My strangest interview was actually a non-interview. Because I had a high GPA in college I was automatically selected to have a summer job at the US Postal Service. (I will leave the study of the relationship between GPA and a successful postal delivery person to some anthropology PhD student). Anyway, my salary for that summer jumped from $1.50/hr (flipping hamburgers) to $7.75/hr (being chased by dogs). And the test for operating a right-side drive postal vehicle? One lap around the parking lot and good to go! I continue to be amazed when something I put in the mail actually gets to its destination - most of the time.
Dang, I wish I'd studied harder. I would have made a great postman!
When I was 17, the summer before I started college, for some reason I thought I should get a job. (School always came first, and I was never required by my parents to get a job.) I chose a day camp. The job interview was the camp owner looking at my parents' 1965 Ford Country Sedan and seeing that it could seat 11. I was hired. The job sucked, the guy ran a horribly dangerous camp (tip-off, the job interview), and he expected me to pick up 10 kids and get to each day's location in an impossibly short amount of time. And I supervised 10 kids whose parents couldn't stand to be with them (tip-off, they had them in this horrible camp). I had always heard you had to give two weeks notice, so at the end of the first week I did. I should have just quit immediately, but whatever. Three of the ugliest weeks of my life, with a perfectly appropriate last day -- a kid throwing up (I got him out of the car just in time) and another kid getting his finger shut in the car door.
Oh man, I don't think you could pay me enough to work at a kids camp. Having been one of those kids, they're real assholes.
lol