The Day I Went to the Wrong Job Interview

So I showed up to this building for a job interview. I dressed sharp—tie, blazer, even shaved my soul.

I get to the receptionist, say confidently, “I’m here for the 10 a.m. interview.”
She nods, checks a list, and says, “Of course. Room 404.”
Should’ve known. Nothing good happens in 404.

I walk in. There’s a long table, like a medieval banquet but with fewer turkey legs and more judgmental faces.
Twelve people. All staring. All wearing black suits. One had a parrot on his shoulder. I thought, “Wow. Diversity hire?”

They tell me, “Please begin your presentation.”
Presentation?! I came to be a cashier!
But I was too proud to admit I had no idea what was going on, so I just… started making stuff up.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” I said, sweating like a roasted pig in July, “I present to you… Quantum Sandwich Theory.”

Silence.

I double down. “It’s the science of placing ham and cheese in superposition: both eaten and uneaten. Until you open the fridge.”
The guy with the parrot claps slowly. I think I saw the bird nod.

Next thing I know, someone stands up and says, “You’re hired. You have vision. You have guts.”
I say, “Wait, what company is this?”
He replies:
“We’re the Ministry of Absurd Innovation. Funded by your tax money.”

Two hours later I’m in a lab, wearing goggles, supervising a team trying to breed a pineapple that screams when it’s ripe.
And guess what?

I just got promoted.