The excitement one feels over managing to land a job interview is somewhat akin to the feeling she gets when another asks her to the prom: you expected it to happen at some point, but you also can’t really believe it did. Thus, when you foolishly let yourself believe that the interview in question could actually be, oh I don’t know, in a proper office building, your hopes tend to get wonderfully dashed when the interviewer tells you to meet them at the Starbucks on Broadway and 42nd (if you’re lucky, you’ll get a more customized location, like the Culture on 36th Street).
And here you thought your qualifications made you special enough to warrant a more intimate setting than that. Still, the worst part isn’t just that you’ve been deprived of the necessary ambience to make a decent impression, so much as the fact that you’re not only delivering your stock answers to the interviewer, but to every other passerby in the Starbucks. On the plus side, most people that go to the Times Square location don’t really speak English, thus they can’t fully comprehend just how intensely you’re prostrating yourself.