I was at a job interview where my current boss was leading the search committee. She had provided us beforehand with a clue to a 7-digit number which would allow us to pass the first stage. The clue was that the last three digits contained a 1, 3, and 5 in some order, and the numbers had to add up in some particular way. I had solved the puzzle after some scratchings on a notepad so I felt prepared. My parents had come with me, and we all filed into an enormously tall building: my parents went into a narrow room with curved, stepped conference tables and my dad set up his laptop, while I and the other candidates went on to where the hallway opened up into a larger set of steps. I sat on the bottom row.

Lynda addressed us from a booming PA system on the ceiling, while graphics played on a Times Square-like screen on high. It was awe-inspiring. But I was quickly embarrassed as Lynda singled me out by name and asked me to solve the math problem after an initial welcome. I could see on the screen that the last three numbers had changed now to "437" and I stalled. Based on my earlier solution, I replied that the real answer is there are only three possible numbers that could fit the pattern, but my answer died slowly as it trailed off amidst silence in the room. Lynda said she was disappointed by me and asked what had happened. I lamely said that I had been doing too much math lately for another operation. I wanted to crawl out of there. I got mad at myself as I slowly remembered that they were going to add one to the number for each day since the email first went out.

Next, I was in the parking lot out front, still in my black interview suit and tie. I was apparently in some sort of triad/mafia and a drug deal was going down. But the buyers figured out that one of my guys had switched in counterfeit money, and suddenly guns were pulled everywhere. Not having one myself, I quickly walked off to the side, and none too soon. They shot one of my leading guys point-blank in the stomach! I felt true terror and panic in real time as I scrambled for cover, first behind a wide pillar and then successively diving behind cars. All the while, I could see the action and saw a couple more people go down. At the same time, I was trying to act cool and collected on the outside, to keep the respect of my triad brothers.

Finally, I was in a small Japanese bathhouse locker room, trapped with an older fat Japanese guy in clown makeup and a diaper. Needless to say, he was terrifying, and I was pretty sure he wanted to rape me. The place was lined with small green tiles on all surfaces, which was very disorienting as I madly dashed about looking for an exit. The guy cackled and slowly gave chase, his arms crooked and out in an "I'm gonna get you" way. But inevitably, when I found a door or stairs, it led me to an all-new room with the guy in the middle, each room more complex than the last. After a few of these, a triad brother showed up and told me that it was a video game designed to test the members. I panicked on level seven, not  being able to find any exit as the room whirled about in my mad scrabbling, the cackling growing closer. I was so relieved when I woke up, I had been so sure I was a goner.

posted by Larry at 5:22 AM