Awkward Zoom Interview
- Alex Pyatkovsky

- Jun 23
- 3 min read

Ever had a Zoom interview where you weren’t sure if you were being interviewed… or slowly recruited into a multi-level marketing scheme run by a woman named Karen who definitely sells essential oils on the side?
Because I have.
It started like every other “exciting opportunity” that came with a suspiciously vague job description and a calendar invite sent by someone named “K. TalentAcquisition.” No last name. No photo. Just a cryptic invitation to “connect.”
The moment I logged on, there she was — Karen. Sitting in front of a very sterile white background, framed by a motivational quote that said, “WORK HARD, STAY HUMBLE,” which immediately felt like code for “we underpay and expect gratitude.” She had the kind of smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes — the kind of smile you give someone at the family BBQ when they ask if you’re still single.
I said hello.
Karen tilted her head slightly and responded, “So tell me… who is Alex?”
Which, if you’ve ever watched true crime, is usually the question right before the interrogation gets aggressive.
I gave her the usual: background, accomplishments, a joke or two to keep things human. She just kept smiling. But not in the encouraging way — more like she was trying to see if I’d sweat under the lights.
Then came the behavioral questions. You know the ones.
“Tell me about a time you failed.”
“Tell me about a time you had conflict.”
“Tell me about a time you questioned your worth as a human being and briefly considered starting a candle business on Etsy.”
Every time I answered, she nodded politely, like an elementary school teacher letting a kid finish his made-up book report. And then she’d go, “Interesting.”
Not great, not thanks for sharing, just… “Interesting.”
Like she was cataloging my responses for some HR ritual she and the other Karens perform under a full moon.
Then — and I swear I’m not making this up — her smile grew wider when I mentioned I had management experience.
“Oh wow,” she said, “We love natural leaders.”
Natural leaders? I felt like I was being recruited into a cult.
At some point, Karen asked if I was comfortable with “ambiguity.”
Which turned out to mean: no defined job duties, no team, no onboarding, and a starting salary that could best be described as humble to the point of hunger.
Then came the final curveball:
“Now, before we wrap up, I’d love for you to complete a small project — just a little 10-slide deck, three mock proposals, and a recorded video walking us through your vision for our go-to-market strategy… due by tomorrow morning.”
I blinked.
She kept smiling.
I stared back.
She zoomed in.
I started sweating like I was being interrogated by a polite villain in a Pixar movie.
I said yes, because I’m polite and desperate and conditioned by capitalism to prove my worth through unpaid labor. But the second I left that Zoom call, I blacked out like a character in The Bourne Identity.
All I know is this: Karen is still out there, smiling. Waiting. Hosting 73 Zoom interviews a week. Asking people to prove their loyalty through decks and deliverables. She’s got the serenity of a yoga instructor and the moral compass of a Bond villain.
So if you ever find yourself staring into a Zoom call, and the recruiter’s smile seems a little too practiced, and you suddenly feel like you’re about to be sold a leadership role in an unpaid pyramid of confusion…
Run.
Or at least fake a Wi-Fi outage.






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