Hired!

Last month, I got an actual job offer email. Not a “we’ll circle back soon,” not a “we regret to inform you,” but a real offer. It had a start date, a time, an address, and even a parking map. One minor detail: I never applied for this job. Not even a late-night, half-asleep click. Zero recollection.

But there it was: “Congratulations! We’re thrilled to welcome you to our team. Orientation starts Monday at 8:30 a.m. at our Bay Area campus.”

Was I confused? Yes. Did I briefly consider that I might be sleep-applying to jobs in my dreams? Also yes. Did I go anyway? Absolutely.

Sunday night, I turned my living room into a bootcamp for corporate readiness. I Googled the company, rehearsed “fun facts” about myself, and laid out my best “I totally belong here” outfit. You know the one — professional enough to say “serious applicant,” but with just enough flair to scream “team player who brings donuts on Fridays.”

Monday morning, I strutted in like I’d been preparing for this my entire life. At the reception desk, I gave my name. The receptionist handed me a shiny new badge without blinking. I was in.

I joined a group of about a dozen bright-eyed new hires. People went around introducing themselves: “I’m in software engineering,” “I’m in product design,” “I’ll be working on data science.” When it got to me, I said confidently, “I’ll be in… strategy.” Because let’s face it — no one really knows what strategy people do anyway.

They played the orientation video, and I took notes as if I were about to be quizzed. Mission statements, core values, sustainability goals — I applauded at all the right moments, nodded thoughtfully, and even asked a question about “cross-functional synergy,” which got me a few impressed looks.

Then came the office tour: kombucha taps, ergonomic chairs that looked like they were designed by NASA, snack walls that could feed a small city, and meditation pods that probably cost more than my car. At lunch, I bonded with a new colleague over the tofu sliders. We discussed which Slack channels to avoid and made vague plans to “grab a coffee sometime.”

Just as I started imagining my new desk plant and brainstorming my future LinkedIn announcement, a frantic recruiter burst into the cafeteria. “Is there an Alex here from recruiting analytics?” she yelled. Plot twist: that was not me. Turns out they accidentally sent my email the offer intended for another Alex with my same last name.

Did I quietly bow out? Eventually. But not before snagging one more oat milk latte and declining a branded hoodie (I have some shame).

Was it awkward? On a scale of one to walking into the wrong wedding reception — absolutely. Do I regret it? Not even a little.

Sometimes life sends you a mistaken invitation to a party you didn’t plan on attending. And sometimes, you just have to show up, grab the free coffee, and collect the story.

Here’s to plot twists, accidental offers, and saying yes to the unexpected.