The worst job interview ever? I don't think so

A job interview is a horrible experience, ranking somewhere between a car accident and a root canal. Actually, I prefer the root canal--they give you painkillers.

Overshop2 describes her experience:

If there were an award for Worst Interview Ever, I think I'd get it. Back in the spring of 2000, I was trying to find a different job. I was working at a place that I totally hated. []

I got a call from a Fortune 500 company to come in for an interview. The pay was enormously better than what I was making at the time, and the work sounded interesting. I put on my nice interview outfit, which wasn't really that nice, but it was the best I had. Black polyester skirt suit with big shiny gold decorative buttons down the front, black purse, black shoes from Payless, and an organizer to hold my resume and other important papers.

I drove over in my 15 year old Crown Victoria, paint completely rusted off, smoke pouring out, car totally covered in bird shit. We called it the Poopmobile. I didn't want anyone to see my car, ..., so I parked way in the back.

As soon as I put the car in park, I heard a ping, and realized one of those big gold decorative buttons - the one right over my belly button - had popped off my jacket and rolled under the car seat. I didn't have enough time to go home and change, so I decided to open up the jacket, and hold my organizer in a way that would cover the missing button.

Got out of the car to walk all the way around the building. A stiff breeze came up. My hair is whipping around me in every direction. This is not good. I go into the lobby, trying to rake my hair down with my hands. I ask the receptionist if I can take a moment in the bathroom to fix my hair. She says NO. Bitch.

While I wait, I notice all the other people walking around who work there. They're all extremely tall and thin and attractive. Like clones. I, on the other hand, am short and dumpy and incredibly plain. Not a good sign. People generally hire those who fit in well with the rest of the company.

The woman interviewing me shows up in the lobby. Just as I stand to greet her and shake her hand, the sole of one of my crappy Payless shoes lets go and flops loose. Now I've got a missing button that I'm covering with my organizer, wild hair, and this shoe thing. The only way to keep it from flapping about is to sort of slide that foot. Step, slide, step, slide. I look seriously deformed. Even I know it.

We walk down the hall to the woman's office. The blinds are open. There - not three feet from her desk - is the Poopmobile in all its glory. I know I don't have a chance in hell, but I'm determined to do this professionally and try to leave with a shred of dignity.

She gestures to a chair and asks me to take a seat. My feet are dangling. I feel like a little kid. She asks a couple of questions. I know she's made up her mind but is going through the formality. At that moment, my organizer slides off my lap, hits the floor, and pops open, shooting papers everywhere.

As I scramble on the floor trying to retrieve all my paperwork, I ask her,

"I'm not getting this job, am I?"

"No."

I went home totally dejected, but less that 2 weeks later I found the job I have now, which pays better and I fit in here better also. So I have no complaints.

I believe I've had a few worse ones. There was one where the search committee sat in a circle around me, shooting questions at me from every direction, like cops questioning a suspect in an old gangster movie. My neck hurt when I left.

Another one I thought had gone pretty well ended when the zipper of my dress broke, exposing my bra and panties for all the world to see.

Another interview, on a dark and rainy night when I had taken off from New Jersey to travel to Westchester, really ended for me when the interviewer told me that job had already been filled, but would I like to work part-time?