oh, fucdge
eec:
dude i have to interview a prospective intern tomorrow. dude i don’t even have any questions. i’m in oh-shit mode all of a sudden.
Interviewing prospective interns is one of my favorite sadistic pleasures. Question number one is always, “Poquito Mas or Baja Fresh?” The correct answer, of course, is Poquito Mas, though points are awarded for noting that Baja Fresh has better salsa. Failure to provide a satisfactory answer is met with a long, drawn-out silence.
Next comes, “how well do you handle working for a … difficult … personality?” The response is usually the same; they can handle it, a wry smile, a knowing chuckle, they think I mean somebody else, etc., and then I hammer the point home with, “how good are your reflexes? No, I mean your physical reflexes.”
Finally, I ask where they went to college. If the answer is a school ranked higher than or equal to Cal State Chico, I glare at them for a moment while grinding my teeth, then erupt with an “oh, you think you’re smart. I guess you’re smarter than me. Maybe you should do my job and I should grovel at your feet for some shit slave job that’s not going to get me a letter of recommendation anyway. Well, Mr. Ivy League jackass, why don’t you sit here for a few moments and do my fucking job if you think you’re so goddamn smart? Get the fuck out of my office!”
The next day I call them at 6 a.m. and just start rattling off things for them to do.