Happy Drinking Game Friday kidos. I started to write a “It’s a Recession Bitchez!” drinking game but got unbelievably depressed about five minutes in and decided to take it in a different direction. I had a job interview every day this week, so I felt inspired to write:
Meg’s Week of Painful Job Interviews Drinking Game!
- You are inevitably late because you have the sense of direction of a drunk chick 30 seconds away from blacking out.
- You forget your resume.
- You realize the cashier at Loehmann’s left a security tag in your skirt and you look like a total clepto.
- You can’t stop thinking how the woman interviewing you looks like Kimora Lee Simmons with a lazy eye.
- You get asked a bunch of stereotypical interview questions you know the interviewer googled five minutes before the interview.
- You answer a question fully knowing that the person who asked it isn’t really listening and you could say “I fucked dinosaurs in a kiddie pool full of lima beans and kool aid at my lost job” and they wouldn’t bat an eyelash.
- You can’t stop stifling your giggles and urges to squish the interviewer’s cheeks because he has an adorable lisp.
- The interviewer asks you what your parents do for a living, how much your father makes, what your sister does, if you were in a sorority and if you have a boyfriend and you can’t help but feel like you need to take a shower immediately.
- You concentrate so hard on making professional eye contact that you realize you have no idea what this guy has been yammering on about for the last three minutes but you’re pretty sure he just asked you a question and he’s waiting for your answer.
- You’re asked what you do for fun and you answer with “uhhhh…God…good question…” while shifting your eyes around the room because you don’t feel comfortable answering with “sleeping, drinking, shopping and making fun of people like you on my blog.”
- You realize you’re going to get this job not based on your portfolio but because you have a convincing courtesy laugh and DD circus boobs.
- You get asked, “Why did you leave New York?” for the billionth time and have no idea what to say.
- You answer the question “What do you want to do with your life?” by sighing deeply and mumbling something about new media because “farm during the day at a hippie commune and do lots and lots of drugs at night” isn’t a good answer.
- Blatantly make up an answer to some inane question because they’ll never know the truth, you need a job in a serious way and it’s a recession bitchez!
Have a great and relaxing weekend and we’ll see you Monday morning!