Gimme a job, dickface! Sorry, I meant MISTER Dickface.


Frankly none of your interview bloopers have quite matched up to Neal from Crawley‘s stump-shaking cringerama, as featured in Episode 105, but we realise that’s a tough act to follow, and we’re still very pleased you’ve shared with us your solecisms. Check them out HERE. Below are a few more that came into our inbox. Tanya from Twickenham recounts an awkward university interview:

I had to sit on what looked like a kitchen chair in the middle of a massive room. There were two interviewers, a man and a woman – the man was sitting on the far right side of the room on a very high chair like a barstool and the woman was sitting on a very low sofa on the far left side of the room.

I felt totally ridiculous looking from one to the other from my isolated position in the middle of the room, and I could hardly hear what the woman was asking me as she was so far away. The man picked his nose throughout the whole thing.

When I left, I tripped over the rug and crashed into the door. They didn’t offer me a place.

Another university interview Fail comes from Alex from Nottingham:

I had an interview to study medicine at UEA. I took the train down and there was a death on the track ahead; I never got the details but we got an announcement that the police had made it into a crime scene as we rushed to the coach.

Later on in my interview the interviewer asked if I had any trouble getting there and I replied, “Oh not much, I came down on the train but there was a death on the track ahead.” There was an awkward pause and so I carried on, “…Which almost made me late.” I then realised this was the kind of callous thing never to say to an interviewer whose primary purpose was to analyse how caring and compassionate I was. Unsurprisingly, I did not get in.

This one from Alasdair from Austria reads more like an early-90s sitcom plot:

In 1991 as students, a friend and I went to an interview for a placement year in Wiltshire from Leicester, and it was the worst time ever. I did the normal thing and was up early and dressed smart etc., then dropped around to my friend’s house to find he had pulled the night before and was asleep with her and hungover. After an impolite and confusing rush to get him awake and help him get his clothes and car keys etc. and somehow explain to the lady that we had to go, we piled into his car and drove off.

About an hour later, after occasionally helping him stay on the road by “assisting” him with the steering wheel, we ran out of petrol. I had to walk sweating up a hill with a petrol can and luckily found a farmer’s house and persuaded the farmer’s wife to drive me to a petrol station and get petrol. At least it was a respite from the stale alcohol fumes from my friend’s mouth. He was of course asleep when I got back to the car.

We finally arrived in the small town almost late, and my friend was not yet in his suit. We ended up stopping at a pub to change, but since it was before opening hours it was closed and he had to get changed in a little plastic kiddy tree-house. As you can imagine we arrived thoroughly rattled, I was physically shaking from fried nerves and we hadn’t eaten.

In the end I got offered a job. My friend was still hungover of course and didn’t.

Any more for any more? No need to be shy, you’re among friends here. Share with us by commenting here, that we might all learn from your mistakes laugh at your misfortune.

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One Response to “Gimme a job, dickface! Sorry, I meant MISTER Dickface.”

  1. Annie Says:

    Once my crazy Belgian relative of some kind was drunk in England and lost his passport. He walked into the Embassy or whatever, still drunk, sans shower and fresh clothes, and walked out with a decent, high-paying job!

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