And here's the kicker: they heavily insinuated that our commitment to singing the song would be kindly regarded, and straight up told us that if we were to randomly start singing the song while we were playing, it would be "a good thing." So, naturally, everyone who was a born ass kisser started singing this annoyingly idiotic song while we played. For a while, I sang along too, albeit without any enthusiasm, because it was embarrassing as hell, and then I simply stopped. This was precisely the sort of behavior that turned me off from being inside a Games Workshop, and here we were, twenty-some-odd mostly men in shirts, slacks, and ties singing about ork fighta bommas as if we were drunk off our asses while curious potential customers were trickling through the door. The regulars were there already, paying us no attention, as if this was the most natural thing in the world.
Finally, it was my turn to be interviewed. I was handed a cheap plastic skull and told to come up with a pitch to sell it for $49.99 along with my two other fellow interviewees (one of which, unfortunately, happened to be the asian kid who wasn't entirely on the same page as the English language). It was hard not to laugh, because I wasn't sure if the irony was intentional (for those of you who don't know, much of GW's merchandise consists of incredibly overpriced pieces of unpainted and unassembled plastic), but I did the best I could to come up with something sensible. I don't remember exactly what it was, but something having to do with the many uses of a skull as a decoration or a prop, and the inimitable quality of the Games Workshop craftsmanship.
Still a little shaken from the being forced to sing at a job interview for a retail position selling plastic miniatures part of my experience, I was feeling only somewhat better about this part of the process, though the inclusion of the asian kid on my team was a little like what choosing basketball teams among the twelve disciples must have been like ("Alright, fine, we'll take Judas"). However, any hopes for a return to sanity were quickly dashed when the managers told us, "We do our interviews a little differently here." They then took out a deck of cards and told us that on these cards were questions we'd have to answer, and one of us would ask another candidate the question, each of us taking turns. The catch was that we'd have to ask and answer in the manner of their (the managers) choosing.
I was the first up to bat. The pitcher had to ask as Captain Hook, and I had to answer as Peter Pan. The question was something like, "Tell us about a time when you had to confront a friend, colleague, or superior."
...
For those of you unfamiliar with Peter Pan, allow me to provide some pertinent information. Peter Pan is the poster child for perpetual immaturity, not the kind of character you'd want to emulate in answering a question about integrity of character and personal responsibility. Moreover, Peter Pan has no distinguishing characteristics aside from being small and androgynous; the little fuck doesn't even have an established voice, accent, or syntax. Captain Hook is a pirate, and pirates are their own ethnic group. This is simply not fair. To complicate matters further, I've confronted a ton of people, but they've all been friends and the issues were always complex, and to talk about what the issue was and how it was resolved is simply inappropriate to bring up in a job interview.
So, to my utter shock, I found myself literally speechless for what must have been nearly a minute as my brain furiously tried to think of any situation that resembled a confrontation that did not involve intimate relationships, at the same that it was trying to figure out how the hell to portray Peter Pan - let alone combine the two. Eventually, my brain decided to hell with this and started talking about times when I've had to deal with belligerent and senile faculty when I worked tech support at my alma mater. At first, I tried to talk about as childishly as I could, but I quickly realized that it was impossible to adequately answer the question and still sound like I was eight. So my brain dropped all pretenses at being Peter Pan and just decided to answer as honestly and coherently as I could. I figured the important thing was the answer, not my portrayal of Peter Pan.
Boy, was I wrong.
I finished with my answer and one of the managers (the one who had been muttering "Nice, nice" to himself earlier) simply said, "Well. That was certainly interesting." Another manager, who looked deeply disappointed, shook his head and said, "You know, I hate to say this, but that wasn't really Peter Pan at all."
I simply sat there and didn't say anything. I felt humiliated, because their reaction was basically, "That was a pile of shit we just saw there." But more than humiliated, I was dumbfounded and angry. I couldn't see how this had anything at all to do with my knowledge and enthusiasm for Games Workshop games, or my ability to sell the hobby. And I couldn't understand how I could be judged on my ability to do so based on how well I could impersonate Peter Pan.
And on it went, and it got worse. Ask as a cat. Answer as a dog. Ask as if you have Tourette's, but without profanity. Ask as a ninja. Answer as if you're totally insane. Then we were asked to give our pitch, but halfway through our presentation, they stopped us and forced us to do it over as Elmer Fudd, Bugs Bunny, and Donald Duck (yes, Donald, not Daffy). It became clear to me then, as I crawled under the table with a pen (a.k.a. carrot) in my mouth, that the purpose of this interview had absolutely nothing to do with our abilities as salesmen, hobbyists, gamers, or even thespians. Their critique of my Peter Pan performance notwithstanding, they actually weren't interested in the quality of our renditions at all.
And then I had my answer. I realized why all Games Workshop employees are creepers. It's not because they are the most sociable geeks they can find and have to settle for them. It's because these are precisely the kind of people they want. They don't care how intelligent, passionate, personable, responsible, hardworking, attentive, or knowledgeable you are. All those concerns are secondary.
The thing they care about the most is how willing you are to humiliate yourself on command.
What they want are people with no sense of personal dignity, people who wouldn't stop to think for a microsecond about why they should be making a fool of themselves in public at the behest of a total stranger who does not even provide a reason other than "do it." Why? Frankly I have no idea. I would say it's because they have a paranoid obsession with blind obedience, but the willingness to make an ass of oneself is clearly important, as it is a heavily encouraged method of running introductory games at the store. So what is it? I wish I knew.
I do know some things a lot more clearly now, however. For example, I now know why their staff members behave like parasites, glomming onto you in a furious and awkweird attempt to get you to buy something, anything. It's not because they lack social skills, it's because they lack a respect for you. Because they do not respect themselves, they cannot respect your desire to be left alone or your need for personal space. Because they do not respect themselves, they cannot respect the games they are selling or the mentality of the mainstream population; it would never occur to them that by behaving like overgrown screaming toddlers while running a game that resembles 40k in the same way that a horse-drawn carriage resembles a Thunderbird would have more negative consequences than positive.
Which leads me to my point. Games Workshop is a niche store, true. But then again, so is the Apple Store. Technology is just as much the realm of geeks as tabletop games. Non-geeks think of computers as little terminals that have Microsoft Office and the internet, so what does it matter what kind of computer you've got? Geeks know that it matters one whole hell of a lot, which is why we are picky. And Apple computers, not being the business standard, are always chosen because of personal preference. So why is it that Apple is expanding and profiting so remarkably now, and enjoys not only household familiarity, but also a cultural reverence as being emblematic of cool, young, and hip? Why is it that in any given Apple store, the geeks are heavily outnumbered by people old and young who simply want to check out the cool gadgets? Because Apple knows that what it has to offer is cool, and can be appreciated by a wide market. But Games Workshop thinks that what it has to offer can only really be enjoyed by a narrow market, despite the fact that their games and the universes they take place in are infinitely fascinating and alluring in the same way that books and movies are. In other words, Apple respects and believes in the quality of its product, while Games Workshop does not. One mindset leads a company to hire capable, knowledgeable, and extremely socially adept employees to man the floors of their stores, drawing countless n00bs into the world of technology. The other leads a company to choose employees that have no idea how to talk to people comfortably, and to utterly misrepresent and demean their product as something that can be played as quickly and as thoughtlessly as a game of Candyland.
Games Workshop is closing its store in the Glendale Galleria because the rent is too expensive. Apple just opened a new store in Manhattan's Upper West Side and there were crowds lined up on opening day.
P.S. No, I didn't get called back for the second round of "real" interviews. And if I had, I would have turned it down.
