Panel Interviews That Felt Like Game of Thrones: A Survival Story

You ever walk into a panel interview and feel like you’re entering a medieval tribunal where the only thing missing is a dragon and a chalice of poisoned LaCroix?

Because I have.

They told me it would be “a brief conversation with a few team members.”

What they failed to mention was that “a few” meant seven, and “conversation” meant trial by fire.

I walked into the conference room like I was about to discuss my experience.

Instead, I found myself surrounded.

Seven people.

Three laptops open.

Two pens furiously scribbling.

One guy who looked like he had a spreadsheet open just for vibes.

At the center?

Karen.

The Queen of HR. Her bun was tight. Her aura was tighter.

She spoke first:

“So… tell us about yourself.”

Easy question, right?

Except by the time I got to “I’m passionate about leadership,” she was already typing something. Probably: “Applicant used the word ‘passionate.’ Immediate red flag.”

The next question came from Chad, Director of Something Important.

He said:

“If you had to choose between meeting a deadline or preserving team morale, which would you prioritize?”

It was a trap.

I knew it.

No answer was safe.

Before I could speak, Lindsey from Marketing whispered,

“Interesting.”

I hadn’t even said anything yet.

Then Tony from Finance, who had said nothing the whole time, leaned forward and asked,

“What’s your biggest weakness?”

I smiled. Tried to stay confident.

Said,

“Well, sometimes I—”

Karen interrupted.

“Let’s circle back to that. Tell us about a time you failed publicly.”

Publicly.

As if failure in private wasn’t humiliating enough.

So I told the story about a presentation that glitched mid-pitch and how I turned it into a spontaneous Q&A.

They all nodded.

No one blinked.

Then Greg—who I’m convinced was just there for the free coffee—asked:

“If you were a kitchen appliance, which one would you be and why?”

Sir.

We are not bonding.

We are not at summer camp.

This is not a Buzzfeed quiz.

But I said,

“A blender. Because I make things work even when they’re messy.”

Lindsey wrote something down and smiled like I’d just said “toaster.”

Then came the final blow.

Karen looked up and asked:

“Where do you see yourself in five years?”

Mentally? Screaming.

Emotionally? Still recovering from this exact question.

Physically? Hopefully not here.

But I gave my best answer.

“Leading a team, continuing to grow, and building something meaningful.”

They all nodded again.

Silent.

Judgmental.

Like I’d just answered the riddle of the sphinx but got the tone wrong.

When it ended, they said,

“We’ll be in touch.”

Which we all know is medieval panel speak for

“Winter is coming, and it’s not you.”

I walked out drenched in sweat, dignity slightly cracked, blazer crooked.

I half expected to be handed a scroll that said:

“You have been found worthy. But not… worthy enough.”

Two weeks later, I got the email:

“We’ve decided to move forward with other candidates who better align with the role.”

Translation:

Someone else brought a sword to the panel.

I brought polite enthusiasm.

So if you’ve survived a panel interview like this, just know—

You are brave.

You are battle-tested.

And somewhere out there is a role that doesn’t require a full season arc and three rounds of passive-aggressive nodding.

Until then?

Keep your résumé sharp.

Your posture strong.

And your answers slightly vague but passionate.

Because interviews may be war,

but at least you showed up in armor.