I got a Call From Steve Apple

So I’m mid-scroll, halfway through reheating my coffee for the third time (it now tastes like burnt ambition and mild despair), when my phone lights up. Unknown number. Bold move.

I answer, cautiously optimistic, because hey—it could be a job, a recruiter, or my mom calling to remind me that I should’ve gone to law school.

“Hello?” I say, using my professional voice—the one I reserve for Zoom interviews and returning salad dressing at restaurants.

“Alex,” the voice booms, confident, slightly metallic.

“This is Steve. Steve Apple.”

Pause.

Not Tim Cook. Not Jeff Bezos. No, no. Steve Apple.

Naturally, I say, “I’m sorry, who?”

“Steve Apple,” he repeats, clearly offended I don’t recognize the name. “CEO. Founder of Microsoft… and Whole Foods… and also the inventor of Bluetooth, the chair, and brunch.”

Ah. Okay. So we’re dealing with that kind of CEO.

He continues: “I saw your résumé. Outstanding. Your forklift energy synergy metrics gave me goosebumps. I don’t say that lightly. I once ran a TED Talk on goosebumps.”

Me: “I… didn’t list forklift synergy anywhere, but—thank you?”

Steve Apple, unbothered: “We have a very exciting opportunity for you. Fully remote-hybrid-flex-permanent-contract role. With rotational leadership. And hoverboard options.”

Me: “I’m sorry, what exactly does the role entail?”

Steve: “Oh, everything. Everything. You’ll be the Head of Culture and also Director of Vibes. You’ll oversee logistics, morale, innovation, hydration, snacks, and talent retention through interpretive dance.”

He then tells me the salary.

“One hundred thousand dollars,” he says.

I raise an eyebrow.

“Per week.”

I inhale sharply.

“…In Monopoly money.”

Of course.

But wait—there’s more.

“In order to proceed,” he says, “we need to verify your compatibility.”

“With what?” I ask.

“Our team’s aura.”

I blink.

Then he says, “You’ll be required to submit a vision board, a short film about your biggest failure, and a hand-painted portrait of your inner child—on canvas, not paper. We’re not animals.”

Then, as if that wasn’t enough, he tells me:

“You’ll also need to complete an obstacle course inspired by the hiring process itself. First stage: the Application Maze. Then, the ATS Gauntlet. Final boss? Kayla the Recruiter, who ghosted you twice and still thinks ‘synergy’ is a personality trait.”

I try to interject.

Steve: “Oh, and one more thing. You’ll be reporting directly to my nephew, Chad. He’s 23, has a minor in Marketing Psychology from an online university, and once managed an escape room for four months. He’s a visionary.”

Naturally, I ask if there’s a company website.

“Absolutely,” he says. “But it’s currently under cyber-espionage lockdown. NDA required. But we have a Pinterest board.”

At this point, I’m torn. I mean, how do you walk away from a chance to work with the guy who allegedly invented brunch?

Then he says it:

“Oh, and onboarding is just $99. Payable via Venmo. Or vibes.”

I hang up. Slowly.

And update my résumé to say:

“Survived a direct call from Steve Apple. Maintained composure. Rejected politely. Regretted nothing.”

LinkedIn in 2025, baby. Where the job market is one part sci-fi, two parts reality show, and somehow still less chaotic than HR’s Slack channel.