I am sitting in an Apple Store with three hipsters, one high school student, a surprisingly (and, considering the entry-level position, depressingly) elderly man, and three sales robots desperately trying to act human. It is month three of unemployment; I am branching out into other zones of retail. As a member of the cult of mac, I figure this should be right up my alley.
But this is not your standard retail hiring meet-and-greet. This group interview has its own intro movie, played in glorious 1080p on a Cinema Display. It's an inspiring montage of different Apple Stores, set to triumphant pop rock, littered with gushing testimonials by earnest employees. Towards the end, a 30-something Apple Genius confesses to the camera, "Sometimes I get home from work, and think to myself: 'wow. I work at Apple.'" There is a pause, pregnant with emotion, and he repeats--near tears(!!!)--"I work at Apple."
The nice woman running the show hits 'space' and ends the Working For Apple trailer. She looks at us, potential preachers for the church of gleaming white and chrome; she asks if we have any questions. I raise my hand.
"So, uh, do you usually think 'Wow, I work at Apple' during the day, or...?"
She pauses, thinks for a moment, and says without a trace of irony "No, I usually think it on my way to work and then again after work." No smirk on her face, no roll of the eyes, but I'm sure she's trolling me. She has to be.
But the people around me are nodding, nodding in understanding, and I feel a mild sense of panic.
Surprisingly, I didn't get the job. Made it to second round of interviews, though.
foie gras thing?