I've had some daft interviews, (and done some daft ones too.)
I went for an interview on the night shift at Denny's in Seattle in 1983. The bloke who interviewed me was younger than me - I was 21. He said "If I employed you, out of 10 how much would you be giving me?" I thought about this seriously for a few moments, added a couple of marks to make myself look keen and said, seven?"
1984 saw me on an assessment centre for trainee managers with Berni Inns. Anne bought me a polyester three- piece suit down Lewisham market for £20, which was striking sparks off the hotel furnishings. It's a miracle we weren't all toasted. I nailed the group exercise, but the interview didn't go so well. The bloke said to me - "Thing I don't get, what with your degree and stuff, is why you want to be a fucking fish and chip salesman?" "Um, when you put it like that, neither do I." I said. "Thank you" he said, "Claim your expenses on the way out."
1985 saw me doubly-degreed and on an assessment course as a trainee Trading Standards Officer. We were shown around the weights and measures department. Engineering stuff everywhere. I can't even re-wire a plug. "These scales seem off" the bloke said. "Anyone fix them? You, you have a go." I should have left soon after.
The one interview I nailed was my one as a graduate trainee for Commercial Union, 1986. George, as I came to know him, welcomed me, sat me down and said "So why do you want to work for an insurance company?" Before I could deliver my carefully pre-prepared bullshit of an answer he continued: "Because it's bloody boring here. Man alive, let me tell you...." And he did, for half an hour. I nodded in all the right places and started Monday.