Maeve Higgins

I was in my room the other day, trying to get a fire going. I had a little hole dug and plenty of bits of paper peeled off the walls. I found some twigs on the windowsill and the pyre took shape. I searched and searched but could not find any petrol, or matches. Disappointed and cold, I rolled into a little ball and began to imagine the ideal job interview.

No matter what the job – miner, puppeteer, coroner, you will be judged on what you wear. Whitney was right when she spoke about that: it’s not right . . . but it’s okay. It’s okay because you can play them at their own game.

Before the interview, have a bubble bath and apply your eye shadow real smoky. Slip on your highest heels and float through a cloud of your most sensuous perfume. Wear something tight, preferably exposing your midriff ever so slightly and you will be an unforgettable candidate. And as for you ladies . . .*

A simple, navy pantsuit sends out all the right messages. Sure, they are instantly and boxily depressing, but they say you mean business. They say, ‘Don’t worry, I won’t let the slightest bit of creativity creep into my office management role.’ and ‘I definitely won’t get pregnant, no way, not me – I’ve got a right to choose and I choose accountancy every time.’

As I learned last night, trying to order a four seasons pizza with a stuffed crust over the phone, body language can only take you so far. So, unless you’re interviewing for a part in a dance crew, in which case you should shush your lips and shake your hips, it’s imperative to prepare exactly what you want to say. If the panel try to throw you off with questions you weren’t expecting, simply distract them by dropping a pencil or faking a stroke.

At all other times, you can absolutely dominate them by using your outdoor voice to blast through your script. That script should wow any future employer into thinking ‘We need this candidate and we are willing to offer her at least minimum wage’.

Here’s an example of a persuasive, charming response to a common interview question. Where do I see myself in five years’ time? I guess by then I expect to be over this crippling sex addiction. Surely it’s just a phase, I mean, how much more longer could it possibly last? Also by 2018, this ringworm will have subsided. Why, if you give me this job, I can afford to begin treatment for it right away! And hopefully, on a personal note, when social services see me back on my feet earning good money doing a job that is within the confines of what’s acceptable both socially and legally, I’ll get my kids back – or at least a couple of them!

My dream interview is one where the panel sings out, gospel style, 'we want you' and I smirk, because the choice is mine.
*boom boom