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This is a question Job Interview Disasters

The boss showed me the shop floor, complete with loose floor tiles, out-of-date equipment and prospective colleagues eyeing me like a raw steak. "Christ, what a craphole", I said. I think that's the moment I blew it. Tell us how you didn't get the job.

Suggested by Field Marshall Dozington-Smythe (Ret.)

(, Thu 21 Nov 2013, 13:06)
Pages: Popular, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

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After hacking an email account I found out the truth behind Foxtons.
Many moons ago, during a very brief spell of out of the mental ward, I was in dire need of a job, any job. So I applied to a large advert in the Evening Standard on behalf of those crack pot social pariahs, Foxtons.
The advert didn't say much, only that 'well-groomed, educated and verstaile males need apply.' Being a well-groomed, educated and and at that stage, fussy bottom, I called the number, received an application form and was invited to attend a 'Stage One Group Timewaste' at their Chiswick offices. Suited and booted I arrived in good time and was ushered by the receptionist upstairs to the dreary boardroom overlooking Chiswick High Road. Upon entering, I was issued with a name-tag and told to 'mingle' whilst waiting for the other candidates to arrive. Laid out on the Walnut boardroom table was a large selection of drinks, there were bottles of cold beer, cans of Coke and mini Evian waters.
Soon we were all present and correct and our 'interviewer' arrived. Looking the picture of a well-groomed, educated to at least CSE and versatile, he took to the centre of the room and addressed us all.'Welcome to Foxtons! He cried, 'This is an informal timewaste, there will be no questions, no CV's at this stage, I'm just going to ogle you for a while to determine whether or not you're "Foxtons Material", he leered. 'Please, help yourselves to refreshments and get chatting to each other.And that was it.
He then sidled off the back of the room and with clipboard in hand, began to observe proceedings. Our group nervously began to frottage, small talk was made as we all tried to figure out the purpose of this 'timewaste''Take drinks!' Our host called out from the back. 'It's thirsty work this timewasting lark, make sure you stay lubricated!, Er, I mean hydrated'
Strange. This was obviously a test - but what kind of test? Was it the drinks? If I took a beer would I be seen as an alcoholic and therefore not 'Foxtons Material'? What the fuck was going on here? Eventually I plumped for a beer. Most of the men present took Diet Cokes and the stronger guys either copied me and grabbed a Bud, or the weaker ones sips of Evian. Trouble is, there was no bottle opener for the Bud, Christ I thought this is a test. I decided to not look a fool and casually took the bottle to the edge of the pristine Walnut boardroom table and wacked the crown top off. Everyone in the room was aghast.

'Thank you very much!' Mr Foxtons declared, no more than 15 minutes later. 'You've all been fantastic, successful candidates will be called tomorrow and those unsuccessful will receive a letter in the post.'And that was it. Slowly the group left the room - all of us more confused than when we'd started. The next day, I got a call. I'd been selected to return for a 'Formal Second Stage Interview' with an 'Area Manager'. When I enquired as to their selection process, I was told that all would be revealed at the following interview. So for the second time in as many days, I made my way back to Chiswick High road.

This time I found myself sat opposite a very well-groomed and versatile chap, who proceeded to grill me about all aspects of life! Finally, during the 'any questions' bit, I asked what had made me a successful candidate for this second interview.'
"We look for strong signs of mincing campness, pretty mouth and obvious power bottoms. You exhibited these during the first interview and we believe that you have the makings of a 'Foxtons Man', now get over here and suck my greasy cock.

"Oh the misery I felt as I knelt before him and performed oral sex on him with a tear in my eye and a raging hard on in my pants. I had arrived, the Mini One was mine and all the suits from Burtons I could handle. I had the last laugh, with my multi-million pound property portfolio - because I am Albert Marshmallow here me ROARRRRRR
(, Tue 26 Nov 2013, 12:24, 13 replies)
gay

(, Tue 26 Nov 2013, 12:39, closed)
This is Inception right?

(, Tue 26 Nov 2013, 12:41, closed)
Are you suggesting that this is all a load of self-indulgent drivel?

(, Tue 26 Nov 2013, 13:21, closed)
*here*

(, Tue 26 Nov 2013, 13:23, closed)
I don't get it

(, Tue 26 Nov 2013, 13:58, closed)
USE THE FORCE, KIRK

(, Tue 26 Nov 2013, 14:17, closed)
Have you tried being less creepy and unattractive?

(, Tue 26 Nov 2013, 14:24, closed)
Have you tried being less creepy and unattractive?

(, Tue 26 Nov 2013, 15:32, closed)
I know you are but what am I?

(, Tue 26 Nov 2013, 15:32, closed)
If this episode doesn't end with you three in a sordid sex suicide pact I'm going to be very disappointed.

(, Tue 26 Nov 2013, 14:25, closed)
This is yet another post where your penchant for homoerotic fodder is being displayed.
I am just polishing my jack boots. Look at the shine.
(, Tue 26 Nov 2013, 18:47, closed)
foxtons yeah
www2.b3ta.com/host/creative/31673/1238394790/foxtonman.jpg
(, Tue 26 Nov 2013, 17:12, closed)
I like this.

(, Tue 26 Nov 2013, 18:51, closed)

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