Job interviews are so boring. You spend the entire time answering questions about what animal you would be (and why), while sweating your ass off in a wool suit and trying to make sure your poorly chosen tattoos don't peek out of your sleeves. It's thisclose to water torture, and the only upside is that at the end of it, you may be offered a job processing TPS reports while answering to The Man. Nothing good can come of them.
Unless your job interview also consists of a Daft Punk dance-off. Then your humiliation goes viral, and the whole world gets to read about how you did some robotic dance moves in front of some stuffy Human Resources reps, and your street cred skyrockets.
That's exactly what happened to Alan Bacon recently when he went into a job interview for Currys Cardiff, an appliance store in Wales. Among the other awkward questions, the interviewers asked Bacon and his fellow applicants to show them a few of their best moves. As cool as that might seem from the outside, the little social experiment didn't go over quite as well. We'll let Bacon explain:
So yeah. Apparently stuff like that is only humorous when you're laughing at the situation, either courtesy of The Office or this guy. We wanted so badly to be a fly on the wall, though, that we went ahead and hypothesized just what, exactly, that interview looked like. This is our scientifically accurate depiction of the Daft Punk job-interview dance-off, courtesy of our no facts other than the ones from our imagination.
1:18 p.m. Arrived at Currys headquarters just in time. Who the hell schedules an interview at 1:20 p.m. anyway, and why was I told to wear running shoes? These folks are strange. Whatever. I just wish I'd had something other than white Nike trainers in my closet. They are beacons of light from beneath my grey wool pants.
1:28 p.m. Wow. I didn't realize this was a group interview. Man, I hate these things. At least I'm not the only one sporting basketball kicks. We've all got them on. What the hell is this job, anyway? Aren't we supposed to be selling appliances? Maybe HR has a thing for dumb looking shoes.
2:02 p.m. We've all answered the dreaded animal question. I'm impressed with the guy who stole the lion answer right out from under me, but I'm thoroughly confused with the guy who pictured himself as a sloth.
2:18 p.m. Okay, things are getting strange. The HR reps have moved from their perch in the front of the room to a row of desks against the wall, and it looks like they're some sort of bad question firing squad.
2:22 p.m. Wait. What the hell is that boom box for? Those still exist?
2:24 p.m. Maybe running shoes were suggested so that I could get the fuck out of Dodge. I'm not sure how to sneak out without my white-lightning tennis shoes giving me away.
2:36 p.m. Did this guy really just make me fill out a form on what song I'd like to hear? This is the strangest place I've ever been. It's like Wonka Land, but with crappy stoves. The schnozberries taste like schnozberries!
2:42 p.m. What in the actual fuck. Did I hear that right? We're supposed to dance for our lives? Is this some crappy ripoff of Punk'd? Okay, Kutcher, show your smarmy face.
"Interview" continues on the next page.
3:02 p.m. Nope, they're serious. The sloth is dancing, and I must say, he's certainly more wound up than he suggested with his choice of animal.
3:08 p.m. Man, I'm sweating bullets. These guys are good. I really wish I'd chosen something other than "Around the World." I thought the Daft Punk choice would give me a bit of an edge. I can't dance to that! Is it too late to change?
3:10 p.m. Fuck. I knew I should have flasked it.
3:12 p.m. Well, here goes. I hope these robot moves mask my two left feet and the buckets of sweat.
3:14 p.m. I can't believe no one clapped. Those moves were sweet, dude! I have this on lock.
3:18 p.m. Oh, they'll call. Seriously? After those moves? Man, the sloth better not win, or I'm calling shenanigans on this entire interview.
TWO DAYS LATER Well, HR called, and the sloth won. The SLOTH WON!! I can't believe I busted out my best robot moves for nothing. Damn you, Currys! Damn you and your sweet dance-off and your Daft Punk and your stoves! Internet revenge will be mine!
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