This was the weirdest interview in my life, and I have been on many—I mean, I live in Austin, after all. So I was turned onto this company by a guy I met downtown who seemed quite intelligent and gave it rave reviews. I gave him my resume, he passed it along, and about a week later, I got a phone interview, which went well. No bells went off there. But then, oh then, I was asked to partake in a group interview downtown at a hotel. Four representatives from Meltwater showed up. Only one of them looked old enough to buy cigs. But what really stuck out was how attractive they were, even by Austin standards. I was a little surprised and sort of taken aback. I guess I’m used to living in America where there’s gonna be at least one kid in the crowd who likes his Oreos (it wasn’t until later, after I read the anti-meltwater blog, that I realized my discomfort was somewhat valid—the company was notorious for handpicking hot people to maintain its reputation for pumping up the jam after work). So the Homecoming court waved us into the conference room. There were about ten of us. At thirty, I was by far and away the oldest. All the kids were dressed nicely, looking like they were going to prom. We each had a chance to introduce ourselves and describe our passion. Since everyone else was being super pretentious, I picked my passion as being malt liquor. Everyone laughed except for the Meltwater people. So, no sense of humor, I knew I wasn’t going to pass the interview. I just decided then and there to remain true to myself and watch in shock horror as the Meltwater supermodels continued on with a two and a half sermon on why their company is Jesus and Lil’ John all rolled into one shiny wagon with a corporate logo stapled on top. This orgy of hubris included a slide show of their charity work, pictures of the three kids and a couple of llamas they saved in South America (the kids for whom IMHO looked happier in the before-Meltwater-intervened photos), followed by pictures of company trips in exotic cities to unwind i.e. pump up the jam, which I guess was much-needed given their other reputation for week-long nonstop cold calling. After the Meltwater team was done running laps around their egos, we had a competition to see which was mightier—the pen or the sword. Pretty sure I participated in something like that in Odyssey of the Mind, back in fifth grade. It became a brown-nosing contest. Oh, and when it became Q & A time, the Meltwater people avoided answering any probing question I asked….and trust me, my questions aren’t that probing. Yet, the best what-the-fudge moment was when they gave us time at the end of the interview to allow us to thank them for inviting us to the interview. Yes. We were asked to sit there and appeal to them that each one of us was the best candidate for their company in the most humiliating, most brown nosery display of uber ridiculousnessI had ever witnessed. Saddest part is, everyone (but I) took part. Goes to show how bad the job market is. I emailed the Meltwater guy when I got home and demanded that he take me off his list of candidates.