Your Worst Interview Ever

This goes back to the early days of the Peace Corps. To finally be accepted to an assignment, potential volunteers had to take two interviews at the end of training. One was with experts in the field you would be serving; teachers if you would be teaching, engineers if you would be ditch digging, etc. The other was with someone fluent in the language. This was to test if you were good enough in the language to do your job. I did fine with the skills interview, but I was worried about the language exam. My language instructor told me I was fine, especially when a bit relaxed. He said when we sat around over a couple of beers, I spoke very well. It was only when I tensed up that I did somewhat badly. He suggested that I take a glass or two of wine to relax me just before the language interview to help me through it.

So I did. I went in, official tape recorder going, important person from the island I would be serving sitting there, and everything went well, just as my language instructor suggested. And since everything went so well, and since I had a nice buzz on at 9:30 a.m. I asked myself, “Why stop drinking now?” So I got looped to celebrate. By 3 p.m. I was passed out back at the training center. At about 3:15 or so (this part is all a bit of a blur)I was awakened by my language instructor trying to communicate to me that the official tape recorder had not worked and I would have to do my language interview again. It should be noted that thirty minutes before I was having trouble with English much less Woleain. But I was ready to go. I walked none to steadily over to the interview and did…I have since heard the tape and it went something like this,

Interviewer: “How are you today?”

Me (Confidently): “Yes, this is my leg.”

Interviewer: “Is something wrong with your leg?”

Me: “Sunny all day today, if you ask me.”

Interviewer (Clearly confused): "Oh, you would like to discuss the weather?

Me: “Hamburgers when I can get them.”

The bad part is that it went down hill from there. But somehow they accepted me and I had a great time in the Peace Corps and I might have even done some good. I should mention that to this day if someone I knew then greets me, they will begin with “Yes, this is my leg.”

Just last week I had an interview, and about half-way through I realized I didn’t want the job. So I politely told the lady that I didn’t think I would be interested, *and she starts crying! * :eek: She said she was so impressed with my résumé and with my answers to her questions that she was looking forward to having me on her staff. I felt horrible for wasting her time, but she didn’t have to cry about it :eek:! Well I’m trying to get up to leave, and she starts telling me that a couple of people would be leaving soon and would I be interested in one of their jobs? When I politely told her “no,” she starts talking about speaking to The Big Cheese about making a position just for me. By this time all I can think about is getting the hell out of there, so I tell her to talk to The Big Cheese and give me a call.

I haven’t head from her since.

Being relatively young and mostly having worked in small businesses owned by family friends and such, I don’t have any wretched job interview stories to share. I can, however, tell you about my slip-up while interviewing with a Tufts alum. Everything was going fine at first – I was being my charming self ;), the interviewer seemed genuinely impressed with my (sort of unusual) course of studies during my senior year of high school, we were chatting amiably. Then he asked me, nonchalantly, what I thought of Tufts’s reputation.

“Even though it’s not Ivy League…” I began. Crap. The minute it was out of my mouth, I realized what an idiot I was. The interviewer’s previously cheerful countenance quickly shifted to a stony glare.

Needless to say, I didn’t get into Tufts. I didn’t want to live in Medford, anyway. :stuck_out_tongue:

Aw shucks, it was nothing. If my appalling proofreading skills can brighten one person’s day then I won’t consider my English degree wasted.:slight_smile:

I’m going to an interview with a large company that shall remain nameless. My interview is scheduled for 8:00 Wednesday morning. I arrive at 7:45, confident and ready, and give my name to the receptionist, who reaches for the phone to call the interviewer. The receptionist simultaneously tells me to take a seat.

Nobody comes down to get me at 8:00. Nobody is down at 8:10 either.

At 8:15, I ask the receptionist what might be happening. “Well, Mr. Spoons, I had to leave a message on her voice mail. I guess she’s not in yet. Have a seat and I’ll try again.”

Nobody by 8:30. I start to wonder if I had the right day. Nope, my calendar assures me I have the correct day, and am in the correct place asking for the correct name.

8:40: I’m wondering what I should do. The lobby is large and busy, but I’m starting to attract a few questioning looks. Just what has this guy been doing here for the past hour or so?

8:45: I speak to the receptionist again. She calls again. Gets voice mail again. I sit down again.

8:50: I’m thinking of the hour-long drive to my current job and how I hoped I wouldn’t have to make excuses for my lateness.

8:55: I start thinking of excuses.

9:00: That’s enough. I tell the receptionist I cannot wait any longer, and to call the interviewer to let her know that I’ll telephone later in the day to reschedule. I go to the car and start practicing various emergency dental appointment stories as I drive.

When I call the interviewer later that day, it seems she has been sitting in her office waiting for me since 7:45! I explain what happened to me and she says she will look into it.

A few minutes later, she calls me back. It seems I was the victim of a number of little things all going wrong at once:

– New receptionist
– Phone extensions that had been changed the day before
– New phone lists not yet published
– Old phone extensions still connected to voice mail system

We have a laugh (though mine is a little forced) and reschedule for 8:00 the following Wednesday morning. She promises to be standing in the lobby at 8:00.

And she is as good as her word the following Wednesday. Unfortunately, she only has time for a quick handshake before running off to an emergency meeting, leaving me in the hands of her colleague who makes it plain in the interview that a new hire was her idea, and he doesn’t really think they need one. Needless to say, nobody this guy sees is going to get the job. Including me.

That was five or six years ago, but I still have no doubt that if I had been able to see the original interviewer on the originally-scheduled day, I would have got the job. But for the mixup that first morning, I didn’t. But my co-workers at my current job were convinced that I had serious problems with my teeth, an excuse that as it turned out, would prove useful in the future, so I guess the experience wasn’t a total loss.

I’d applied for a pretty standard data processing job - I’d been out of a job for a while, and had been doing voluntary work for my local church in order to stave off complete mental fossilization.

So, I was chatting away about programming languages and operating systems and how good I was with both, and I thought I was doing OK. Then the interviewer says,

“I see you’re pretty active in the church. Does this mean you’d have a problem working with me, given that I’m a Druid?”

Immediate brain crash. You don’t expect Druids working for the Co-Op, somehow… After collecting my thoughts, I was able to assure the guy that it wouldn’t make any difference. (Truthfully, I might add.) We chatted about our respective faiths quite pleasantly for a little while. But I didn’t get the job…

Is anyone besides me reading all of these??

Anyway, I think I might have you all beat, since you guys at least got to have an interview…

New Port Richey is a small little city about 40 mins north of me. Previously, I took a pre-employment test there. They said they would only call back the top 10 scores- there was about 40 people there. I must have done well because they called me back. My interview was scheduled the same day as a college field trip. The teacher was a bitch and all field trips were required. This trip was to a prison and we all had to stay together. So, when we started running late, there was nothing I could do but wait to get out of there. Finally I get out of there and hauled ass to New Port Richey for the interview. The city was only about 25 minutes away from the prison, but I only had 15 mins to get there. I get there about five minutes late, but luckily the interview board was still with another person, so I just sat down and waited. I tried to settle down and wipe the sweat off my forhead… I was really stressing on the drive over. It seems like when you are in a hurry, you hit every light and everyone drives 5mph. My heart was still racing when they called me in the room. There were about 5 high ranking officers there to interview me. They all introduced themselves and we sat down. They all started looking at each other with a “so who’s gonna tell him” look on their faces. Finally, the head guy says, “You know, we were just looking over your application, and it did not occurr to us until now, that you are only 19.”
“Yes?”
“Well, our Chief will not hire anyone under 21”
“Oh…” (Thinking: Why the hell did you make me drive all the way out here in a city I am unfamiliar with through shitty traffic on construction ridden streets…"
“But we would be glad to have you call us when you turn 21”
“Ok… sure, I will do that!!”

This interview lasted all of two minutes. I left there so pissed off. And to make it worse, I had the 40min drive back home in the same crappy traffic in the same summer heat!! Grrrr…

… Two years later, I’m still trying to get hired.

When I was looking for a programmer/DBA job a couple years ago, a headhunter set me up with a decent sounding interview. The Hiring Manager(let’s call him Bob) told me about the job, but it seemed a little less senior and more boring that what I was looking for. Since I wasn’t completely interested, I gave him a salary number about 15% more than I was really asking for, thinking I didn;t really want the job anyway, but would be willing to deal with it for more cash. He said they couldn’t pay that much for the position, So I left and didn’t really think about it. Two weeks later, the Headhunter called me up and said that Bob called called him and told him that He had a new position open up, that was perfect for me, and based on the previous interview he was willing to make a offer at my salary demand. I told the Headhunter that sounded great, and to make an apointment on Monday, which he did, and called back to confirm.

So come Monday I show up at the office, and the receptionist leaves a message for Bob that I’m there, so I sit and wait. About 15 minutes later I tell the receptionist That he hasn’t come, so she leaves another message. 15 minutes later, still no Bob, so she goes back to look for him. She comes back with some other guy who introduces himself as Tony, and says Bob isn’t there, but he is handling Bob’s apointments for the morning.

Tony takes me to a room and says, “So what is this about?”

Me: “Ummmm, Bob wanted me to come in to discus a job offer”
Tony: “Oh, I never heard about that, What job was it?”
Me: “I don’t know, nobody told me”
Tony: “I didn’t know that we we hiring right now…”
Me: “Ohhhhh. Ummm. I’m not sure, I didn’t get the details.”

So I call the Headhunter who doesn’t know anything else, while Tony walks around asking if anybody knows what Bob was doing. Nobody has any clue what is going on, everybody thought they were done hiring weeks ago. At this point I’m feeling like George Costanza, and wondering if I’ve lost my mind, but there is my name in Bob’s apointment schedule. I go over my basic qualification, With Tony, then talk fly fishing and skiing with him while nervously waiting for some revelation from somebody.
Finally It is decided Bob isn’t going to make it in that day, and I should just go home and call back tommorrow.

I call tuesday, and am told Bob won’t be in tuesday either.
On Wednesday I’m told that Bob is going to be gone all week.
So on Monday I call, and Bob isn’t going to be back this week either. I talk to Tony, and he still has no idea what Bob was talking about, and nobody seems to be able to get a hold of Bob.
I call again the next Monday. The receptionist tells me that Bob is no longer with the company, and has no to-be-reached-at number. Tony still has no idea, and there is just no job opening that anybody is aware of. I gave up on it at that point.

Are you kidding? I’m riveted to every word. I’m feeling a whole lot better about myself.

Jack, this one ought to make you feel better. I was reminded of it only after reading Bear_Nenno’s experience.

I drove 12 hours over a span of two days from Lexington, KY to Crystal River, FL once upon a time for a copy editing job.

I interview, it seems to go well enough, and when I inquire about how I did, they drop the bomb: There is no job. A major advertiser pulled its contract, and without that money, the paper has gone into a hiring freeze. The follow-up bomb: They called my apartment in Lexington to inform me of this unfortunate development and advise me to not make the trip about an HOUR after I had left to drive out.

Needless to say … AARGH.

I’ve been on lots of interviews, but no truly bad ones. The closest was when I was going for a tech writing job at a computer company. In my resume, I mentioned my writing experience, which included a published novel.

They spent the entire interview asking about the book – how I got it published, how I wrote it, etc. About halfway through, I realized they had never had any intention of hiring me.

I was once going for a retail job and bang my car broke down on the freeway. Luckily, I thought I knew the problem beforehand (faulty wire) and had bought one on the way to the job. So I get out, replace said wire, start her up, and get back on the road in 10 minutes.
I reach the place and ask for the interviewer. A girl shows up and says.

“you are 5 minutes late”
then turns a starts to walk off.

I stop her and explain.

“Look I had my car breakdown and had to fix it on the way up here. I am sorry.”

“You are 5 minutes late.”

“Yes you said that. But look, I have a little dirt on my hands. I told you what happened.”

She stands there.

“You are 5 minutes late.”

“But ma’am”

“I will not hire those that are-” I raised my hand and, in a true pissed off tude, mimiced her perfectly.

“5 minutes late…yea I heard you you fucking automaton.”

She huffed and walked off and I stormed off. Still seriously pisses me off the nerve of that bitch.

Just to add my own tale of woe…

I had my first interview after graduation for a teaching position. I really needed the job, because I was soon to be married, with a kid on the way.

I sit down, and the interview begins. After an hour of intensive questioning on every subject from teaching philosophy to volunteer work to grades, he sits back and asks me… “What attracted you to our posting?”

I’m so fatigued and stressed, that I draw a complete blank. I cannot (literally) even remember the name of the school division, any of the towns in it, or even the name of the school the vacancy is at. I decide to be clever… I reply “I need a steady paycheck, and real-life experience, Mr. Johnstone”. He, in turn, looks at me like I’m a bag of excrement, and replies “My name is Jayman, not Johnstone.” End of interview, end of opportunity. Never even got a form letter reply.

OK - when I came back from travelling, I was pretty desperate to pick up a job ASAP as I had about$100 left to my name. I applied for a position through an employment company and was subsequently called into an interview. I prepared for the job I had applied for and when I got in there they told me they actually wanted to interview me for a completely different position. So I bluffed my entire way through an interview in a completely different field and came out feeling like Shite. Anyway I was called back a week later for a second interview and then a week later for a third interview (by now I was pretty desperate for work). The day of the third interview I woke up with the most awful head cold, so before heading into the city I went and bought some cold and flu tablets (not ones I had taken previously) and downed a couple of them in the vain hope I would stop sniffling and my Rudolph red nose would go back to some semblance of normalacy. However the ingredients in these tablets absolutely tripped me out. I have little recollection of driving to the interview. And can vaguely remember babbling really quickly, repeating myself constantly and giggling to really bad jokes I had made. … My heart was racing at 150mph and I am sure I was sweating…

Needless to say the other girl got the job.

I was in my last year of an engineering physics degree and scored half a dozen medical school interviews. One of them was in a smaller town. My interview was at the end of the day with a neurologist, a lickspittle second year medical student and a “member of the community” – an elderly lady who lookked to be about 90.

The elderly lady promptly fell asleep at the beginning of my interview.

The medical student was a celibate geek poster boy (CGPB) who spent all his time talking about kidneys.

CGPB: Now I read here you are an engineer. What do you know about glomerulonephroses?

Dr_P: Not much. My exposure to biology has been limited to a few basic biology courses. My background in kidney physiology and diseases is not strong. I look forward to learning more about such things in medical school.

CGPB: Okay, so you don’t know much about kidneys. Why don’t you tell me about renal colic.

Dr_P: As I said, I lack your expertise about kidneys. It is not a big part of the engineering curriculum.

CGPB: Well, can you name all the drugs which cause long term kidney disease?

Dr_P: No, I can’t.

At which point the neurologist pipes in:

Neuro: Okay. If you could invite three people in history to dinner; who would you invite, what would you serve them, and why?

Year: 1988
Setting: College Interview for Harvard

I went to my Harvard interview, not really looking forward to it. My family’s house had burned to the ground a mere 2 weeks before and we were living in a borrowed house that belonged to the parish, with borrowed furniture, donated clothes, and no money yet to get started on a new house and new clothes.

I was quite depressed and out of sorts, and wearing the only new pair of pants I had, and the nicest blouse I could find in the donated clothes.

I met the Harvard alum who was going to be interviewing me. She seemed nice enough, but for some reason I didn’t like her. The interview started all right, but then she asked me an inocuous question about my study habits. I sat in horror, listening as the biggest load of bullshit started pouring out of my mouth. Really weird stuff, too, completely invented. I could sense that she knew I was making stuff up, but I couldn’t stop myself.

I did NOT get into Harvard.

My worst interview experience, and I even got offered the position:

I was engaged and so was really out hitting the pavement looking for a way to support me and my soon-to-be (ultimately never-to-be, but that’s another story) wife. I get an interview with an investment firm doing research and working in their library. Sounds like a great job. All the cache of working in investments without all the crap of sales. Interview is scheduled.

Two days before the interview I develop an abcess in my tooth and have emergency dental surgery. The dentist gives me great pain drugs and some antibiotics - both of which carry the note about making you sensitive to the sun. Not bothering to read the label I go home from the surgery loaded on pain pills and antibiotics. I also decide that I’ll sit outside and recover a bit. Guess who falls fast asleep and ends up with a horrendous sunburn? I mean blister here folks. Combine that with swollen jaws from the surgery. I looked like a chipmunk that had been slow roasted over a spit.

I call to reschedule the interview but the personnel manager is about to go out of the country for several weeks. In my desperation I keep the interview. I looked so nice in my new suit, starched white shirt, high glass shiine on my shoes, and a face like an over-ripe tomato. I had to mumble my answer the interview questions, I think I drooled a little, the pain killers never did completely wear off and I felt like I had drunk a bottle of cheap scotch. Evidently she was impressed with my determination because I got the job offer. After all of that I turned them down.

Last night I told Mr. Scarlett about this thread, and he told me the best bad-interview story he’d ever heard, from a waitress he knew at a local Mexican restaurant.

She had applied for some office job at a bank, and was sitting in the interviewer’s office when the head boss-man came storming in. “Who the @#$%! tracked all this tar all over our new carpet??” There was a clear trail of black, gooey footprints from the front door to the interviewer’s office. Apparently the parking lot had been freshly tarred that morning, and she didn’t notice. Didn’t get the job, either.

Many years ago, I was a trader on the LCE (London commodity exchange), trading mainly soft futures and some metals. The company I was working for was going nowhere and I was paid well below the industry standard.

So I decided to look for similar work elsewhere. I contacted an agency, told them what I was after, and that I wanted to concentrate in metals. They had the perfect job and sent me to an interview somewhere in the city.

After waiting in the lobby sometime, I was shown through to a manager, who sat me down and asked:

“And exactly why would you like to work in a copper mine in Uganda?” (Or some other African country, I can’t remember now). To save face I continued with the interview, lying through my teeth, about how Africa had always attracted me and that my father had worked in copper etc etc.

When the interview finished, I phoned the agency and blasted and dumped them. That was my first ever interview, and fortunately I haven’t had one since (all my jobs have come through contacts or word of mouth)

Not as interesting as a lot of the previous posters, but when I was applying to graduate schools a few years ago, I had a phone interview with a panel from one of the schools I had applied to. The panel consisted of the professor I wanted to work with, another professor from the school, and the dean of the school. About midway through the interview, we were discussing my plans for projects in graduate school, and I mention that I am interested in studies that have implications in conservation and restoration. The dean asks me whether I plan to concentrate on applied science or pure science, and I respond that I’m interested in dividing my time and effort between the two, perhaps focusing a but more on scientific studies with immediate applications. The dean then starts to berate me on how I dare to apply to his school with an interest in applied science and how the division between the applied and pure science is insurmountable. He predicted that I would be a dismal failure in graduate school if I tried to maintain an interest in both, and made me feel about two inches high for the remainder of the interview. Needless to say, I didn’t get in.

Best of luck and blessings to everybody facing an interview soon! I know how you feel. =oP