Since I am back on the job market, I have been fielding many interviews. As of this writing, I have had 15 interviews with schools of various sizes. By and large, I am encountering similar questions at every institution. Most of them revolve around student interactions and engagement, a topic of increasing importance given that many students don’t feel it is very important to participate in class or attend extracurricular activities.

I can understand the student perspective. If I had to sit in classes with some of the most boring people to walk the earth, I might not have the energy to do much of anything after confronting a bunch of energy vampires on a daily basis. It’s no wonder that so many students want to treat class like health insurance. Sure, they are paying for it, but they don’t want to utilize it.

Most of my interviews are brief, half-hour sessions where we get to know a little about each other. Usually, they go pretty smoothly, and I answer questions with some light comedy mixed into my serious responses. On rare occasions, I have had interviews go for an hour. I can’t remember if they were scheduled to go that long or if we had a good conversation, but they were pleasant nonetheless.

However, I recently had an interview that scared me away from an institution. I wish I had paid attention to the warning signs. The most prominent indication was that the interview was slated to go 90 minutes. I thought it was a scheduling mistake, but I was dead wrong. Furthermore, this wasn’t an interview so much as an interrogation.

The questions were asked by three people in a round robin style. They asked some sensible questions at first regarding my interactions with students. Then, it took a turn. They started asking questions about dealing with a toxic coworker and creating scenarios. That was my first signal to run. If someone is asking questions like that, and multiple ones on top of that, the decision to never accept the offer should be obvious. However, I tried to keep my poker face and keep answering more bizarre questions.

I remember the interviews I had to go through to earn my top secret clearance in the military. They asked me a lot of insane questions that my 18-year-old brain could barely process. Those interviews lasted hours, but there was a purpose. The United States government had to know without a shadow of a doubt that I would not supply secrets to nefarious people.

This line of questioning was for a tenure-track job at a satellite school. What made it worse was that all three of the people asking the questions had robotic responses to everything I said. It got to the point where a gentleman that I dubbed “Captain Charisma” had me internally screaming at him to shut up as he asked me questions. One of the other committee members was apparently new to video interviews because she was lost in her space background, and I could only see the upper half of her face, as if she were making a tribute to Kilroy. I was pining for the sweet release of death rather than any more questions.

Near the end, the search committee chair’s mask was starting to crack. Her mannerisms were changing, and I could see her frustrations with the institution coming out. She began shaking violently after discussing funding for student organizations. I am not sure if I hit a sore spot during our conversation, but she was noticeably crankier at the end.

If the people on the committee look like their souls left their bodies a long time ago, and they ask questions about hostile work environments, get out. I don’t care if this place calls back or even offers me an obscene amount of money. I don’t want to be a part of their organization. I already worked at Remus College. I don’t want to work on a sequel.