The thing with job interviews is that you never know exactly what you're going to get. Kind of like a blind date. Despite what you've heard, there is always a very real possibility that your prince charming is going to wind up being some middle aged balding guy with his chest hair poking out of the top of his shirt and a habit of calling women "Toots".

When your date turns out to be, say, a tall dark and handsome lawyer who wears Armani, it's a pleasant surprise.

I went on a job interview yesterday, that I honestly didn't have high hopes for. The job ad gives you the same bullshit: flex time, loft space, creative environment, etc.

So I assumed that I was walking into what would more likely than not be my own personal hell.

Turns out, the hiring manager is a great guy. The team I'd be working with consists of this awesome chick, a guy who reminds me of Jack from Will and Grace, and a really good looking Tool fan. I mean really good looking.

I sat down for the second phase of my interview, and the first thing one of the team members did was make a dick joke. I was floored. Someone just made a big penis joke during my interview.

I belong here.

That facet of the interview went well, and then it was time to meet the CEO. Everyone I had met up until then had been pretty awesome, and by all accounts he's a pretty decent guy too. He sits down, wearing jeans and a blue T-shirt and leans back in the chair.

He kind of locked his fingers behind his head and said "I have one question for you".

Ok, hit me.

Folks, I am not making this up.

"If you had a gigabyte of data, and every character was one byte, how many stories tall would it be if you printed it out?"

To which my response was "...What?"

So, I did what I could. I told him theoretically the math you'd use to figure it out. He then stretched his arms out over his head a little bit and said "Ok, do it."

"....do what?"
"Figure it out."
"...here?"
"Yes."
"But I kind of lack the resources I'd need to ans..."
"Use what you know from your everyday life. Ball park it."
"...can I phone a friend?"

Apparently, no, I could not phone a friend.

After about 20 minutes of making my hiring manager do the basic math for me while I tried explaining the numbers I had and how I came up with them (I finally wore him down into settling on a font size and other such things), I finally came to the answer of about 18 stories high.

No one said a word.

Of course, this is my hell. I've had nightmares about this. Of course they aren't saying anything. They're wondering how I've made it this long in my life without being able to do basic math. (Random aside: I'm sorry to Dr. Fenwick. I was wrong when I told you I'd never have to use this shit.)

The CEO finally looks at me and laughs, and said "No one ever gets that right. Good job." He then shook my hand and walked out.

I looked at the hiring manager, trying to figure out what the fuck just happened.

I finally said, 'So what's the answer to that question?"

"Between 18-20 stories. Good job."

I was actually fucking right. What is up NOW, bitches?!

I couldn't do it again if you paid me.