Last week I had a job interview. Wait, it gets better. It turned out to be for a company that investigates other companies. I can't give you any details about how they investigate other companies because I don't want to blow their cover or anything. But it sounded really cool.

When I got there I could see they had one of those setups where the door is always locked and you have to get buzzed in. But I didn't see the buzzer at first so I pulled on the door, and sure enough, it was locked. That's embarrassing, because everybody on the other side hears you try the door and thinks you're a dumbass but they're going to ignore you until you find the buzzer. I know, I've done that myself. So I found the buzzer and they said, "Yeah, who is it?" and I kind of panicked and blurted, "I'm here for the interview," and they said OK and buzzed me in.

The first thing I noticed was that they had a dog in the office. I think it's cool that some people bring their dogs to work, because I usually like dogs better than I like people. In fact, here is my order of preference:

  1. Dogs
  2. People who own dogs
  3. Chocolate
So this is definitely a good sign. Then the assistant to the Boss-man comes out and I see that her hair has been teased upwards to within an inch of its life. Uh-oh. This is a bad sign, because my hair is cropped short, so already I'm not fitting in. Plus I still felt stupid from the thing with the door.

I have to say, the freak show hairdo really bothered me. What was the point? How does she get it to stay in place? Maybe she has to hire one of those Indian swami type guys who does that magic rope trick. That would be a pain. Every morning she'd be like, "Sumeet? Could we please raise my hair now?" and Sumeet would grumble, "Lady with hair as tall as the Taj Mahal! I am a magician, not a beautician!" She was nice, though. Although she wasn't nice for arranging three other interviews while I was waiting to meet with her and her high hair, but just now I was feeling guilty for making fun of her.

So they finally remember I'm sitting there and they usher me into the conference room, call in the dog and close the door. The dog didn't say anything the whole time, he was just sitting in his chair at the table. He looked kind of bored. Plus he had left his chew toy outside in the reception area, so that was probably annoying for him, to be sitting in an interview with no chew toy.

I looked around the room, gauging my chances and sizing everyone up. Forget the high-haired lady. I knew she'd never go for me. And Boss-man wasn't paying me much attention either, another bad sign. So that left the dog. Briefly I debated the plusses and minuses of having an interviewer who didn't mind drooling in public. Then I debated the plusses and minuses of working for a guy who brings in an interviewer who drools in public. I was still coming up with an overall "plus." I mean, how hard could it be to look good next to a dog?

Since I've heard that dogs might be telepathic, I tried to mentally send him positive messages like "Wanna go for a walk?" and "Doggie treat!" and "Aren't you a cutie?" I couldn't tell if I was getting through. Maybe he'd put in a good word for me anyway, since I gave him some attention earlier. Actually, I just told him to get off my seat since I didn't think he was allowed on the furniture.

Still, the interview went all right. The assistant started with, "OK, first you have to guess what I have hiding in my hair." (All right, so she didn't really say that. P.S. I wasn't lying about the dog being there.) Anyway, everything seemed to be moving along nicely, as far as I can tell, but after awhile everyone stopped talking and since nobody was making me an offer or anything I figured they wanted me to leave. So I thanked them and beat it out of there.

Given that I received my rejection letter around the same time that they received my thank you letters, if not before, I imagine the post-interview discussion went as follows:

Assistant with the towering hair:
Well, what do you think?

I'm thinking, 'No.' What about you, Muffy?

Lookit, is someone going to take me for a $%#@&! walk today?

Her hair is too short. The follicles can't breathe properly when they're lacquered against your skull like that. And then your brain, like, suffocates.

Did anyone see my squeaky?