how is a monkey like a fork?

My sister-in-law/best friend is not lucky enough to be a parasite. Instead, she earns the lion's share of the income for her family (which, come to think of it, is actually an appropriate cliche since female lions also do the majority of the hunting). Her current job sucks in all the classic ways - underpaid, understaffed, unclear or unreasonable goals, uninspiring product - as it has for many years. The last time she tried to escape its grasp, she was stricken by breast cancer and had to stay for the health benefits. She's healthy now and has more than an inch of real live normal looking hair (none of the patchy wiry grey that chemo leaves you with) and so she is once again putting herself out there and interviewing for jobs.

The other day she called to describe a particularly strange interview for a dot com company. The interviewer asked her only three questions:

1. You have no resources (phone, internet, books, paper), how do you calculate the number of seats on a 747?

2. How is a monkey like a fork?

3. You work for a cereal company and designed a cereal - Special K - and included in it three non-essential ingredients, one of which turns out to be super profitable and boosts sales 30% over 3 months. Your boss wants you to design a cereal - Special J - and boost its sales 60% in one month. What do you do?

I'm not sure how my sister-in-law answered (by her swift dismissal she figures she answered incorrectly), but she's certain she did okay on the monkey and fork question. I've had the unfair advantage of being able to contemplate these questions all night. And, of course, I am not wearing a fancy suit, I have not just driven somewhere strange, my palms are not sweating from nervousness, and I do not have to remember to maintain eye contact. Even so, I think you will find my answers similarly lacking:

1. You have no resources (phone, internet, books, paper), how do you calculate the number of seats on a 747?

First of all, I think this question might be a test to see if the interviewee has seen Snakes on a Plane (which I have not). Instead, I would have to rely on memory from plane trips past. It seems to me that planes have about 30 rows which usually seat either 6 or 7 across. Conservatively, I might go with 6 x 30 = 180 + 5 for the crew (two pilots, 3 sky waitresses) = 185 but that is lower than the death rates I recall from gruesome previous crashes. So I would try 7 X 30 = 210 + 5 for the crew = 215 which sounds about right. (Incidentally, the internet tells me I am so woefully wrong - the 747 is a double decker plane and can seat 416 - 524 passengers... and I am right, the snakes that were on a plane were on a 747.) Also, I am disappointed I did not think to figure in first class which is generally about 10 rows of 4 seats across so I'd want to reduce both guesses. So 185 - 20 = 165 and 215 - 30 = 185. Now they both sound wrong and I am sure I would be stammering and anxious to get on to the next question.

2. How is a monkey like a fork?

My first instinct is that they are both cleverly adapted to their purposes and they can both fling pooh. My husband adds that they can both pick things up, but that is implied in my answer so I might just leave it at that. It just dawned on me, though, that both are nouns that can be used as verbs - you can monkey around and fork things over. And both are used in children's stories - monkeys jumping on beds, forks running away with spoons. Both can be violent - monkeys kill and forks are used to poke elbows that are on the table. In fact, I assume they can both take your eye out. And you can, under the right circumstances, purchase both a monkey and a fork. Both are found at the zoo (assuming the zoo has a snack bar and doesn't use sporks) and in the road. Both have been around for a very long time. Still, I can't help but think I am missing some hipster connection between monkeys and forks. Again, blabbering, creativity dwindling, now dreading the next question.

3. You work for a cereal company and designed a cereal - Special K - which included in it three non-essential ingredients, one of which turns out to be super healthful which in turn boosts sales 30% over 3 months. Your boss wants you to design another cereal - Special J - and boost its sales 60% in one month. What do you do?

My friend wishes she had said that she would tell the boss to go f@ck himself for setting such an unreasonable goal. Now I can think of no other answer. My only other thought is that if Special J is a new cereal, then how can I boost sales that don't already exist? If the sales of Special J are currently $0, then putting it on the market automatically boosts sales, though it is impossible to say by what percentage since 60% of $0 is still $0. Also, I would have to ask if any part of our company's increased profits on Special K would have to go to pay the lawyers, assuming Kelloggs will be suing us for using their registered name. At this point I assume that both the interviewer and I are aggravated at having wasted time getting to know each other. We are both disappointed and relieved as I am politely pointed towards the door.

Before I became a parasite, I had the challenge of interviewing folks with the intention of hiring them. I supremely sucked at this part of my job (though I must have had beginner's luck for the first person I ever hired is a fricking super star...). I must confess I, too, threw in a couple of odd questions. Each of my potential employees had to name their favorite cartoon and tell me how they felt about chocolate. (In fact, the one person I did not ask about chocolate turned out to be a very bad hire who lasted less than 2 weeks. Turns out she was a vegan, which I wouldn't have held against her, but I can't help but think it might have given me some insight into her compatibility with the job.) I so wish I had heard of the monkey and fork question. It's a little cruel, sure, but I'm certain the answer would reveal more about a person than pathetic canned questions such as, "where do you see yourself in 5 years?"

In any case, I am once again grateful that I am neither asking nor answering questions at a job interview. Instead, I am sitting here enjoying a very precious, rare moment - both my kitties are inside and they are not trying to kill each other. Sure, I know they are only in because it is finally raining outside, and they are only peaceful because they are asleep. Still I savor the semblance of normalcy.

So how is a monkey like a fork? Good question.