Well, this will be less a guide itself and more of a "UniversalPolymath's Plea for a Guide to Job Interviews, Because He Doesn't Know What the Hell He's Doing".

Most people hate the interview process when looking for employment. It can be stressful, it can embarrassing, and it can be really easy to fold under all that pressure. Okay, I'm not really sure if "most" people feel this way at all, I've never really talked about it with others. But I certainly know it's true for myself.

So for anyone reading this who thinks they've had a bad interview story - at least one really truly awful interview - take comfort: No one has had a worse interview than me. I've had exactly three of them in the past, and each has been worse than the one before.

Number four comes tomorrow morning, and I have it in my head now that yacking about it here will somehow help me prepare. Well, here's hoping - Let the yacking begin!

First of all, the trouble begins before you even get there. Picking out clothes for the job interview is like trying to choose an outfit for a first date. You want to look good. You want to "dress for success" (or "dress to impress", if you prefer). But you also don't want to come on too strong. You don't want to over-do it. You certainly don't want to look better than your interrogator. I wish, when they call you to set it all up, you can just come right out and ask them. "Uh huh, and what should I wear to this thing?" But you just can't do that, for some reason. I don't know why; if I owned a business, and I was looking for employees, I wouldn't mind someone asking me that. I'd probably hire them on the spot, just because I'd feel their pain.

And then you get there, and you don't really know where to go. So you finally find someone who looks important and awkwardly introduce yourself and you let them know you're there for a job interview. And so they lead you through the store to this back room, and as you're making your way through with the manager, you pass by all other other employees in their little vests and name-tags. And when they see you and your spiffy outfit, they know exactly what you're there for, and they give you that look, and you see the pity and regret in their eyes. It's as if they're silently telling you, "No, get out of here while you still can. You're making a huge mistake, man."

So then you get to that back room that no regular customers get to ever see, and it's dark and it's dingy. There's a single long table in the middle of the room, and a lone bare lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. There's a long mirror running the length of the far wall, and you just know there's an army of people on the other side analyzing your every move. You just know there are hidden cameras capturing you from every angle, recording every gesture you make and every word you speak. And then, the interviewer rolls up his sleeves and loosens his tie and shines that bright light in your face and the interrogation begins.

Now this is the point where I really start to fall apart. Indeed, improvisation is not my strong suit, and when faced with questions I do not have pre-ready answers to, I get tongue-tied. I turn into a nonsensical lunatic.

Has anyone somehow nonchalantly worked into an answer, "Well, I don't really want to work here, but ..." I have. I'm a reasonable person, I swear, and I knew immediately when I let those words hang in the air that I was sinking my chances for the job. Even the interviewer let me know how stupid that comment was, by the bewildered look that instantly spread across her face. Needless to say, I didn't get the job. And the real kicker is, I really did want to work there.

Has anyone ever answered a question with an embarrassingly long, rambling explanation for why you hate the question - and then fail to answer it anyway? Yeah, I've done that one too. The question was the old, "Where do you see yourself in five years?" It really is a stupid question, but in retrospect, this probably wasn't the best time to point that out. And once again, I immediately realized what an idiot I am.

And finally, has anyone barely made it to the parking lot after the interview before puking their guts out all over the concrete? Yep, me too. That was for my first interview, and it was for a part-time newspaper photography gig (which would've been sweet). It was the dead of summer, I was over-dressed (both for the interview, and for the heat), and I was more nervous than ever before. I don't know if anyone from the building actually got to see me puke all over the parking lot - chances are they didn't. But I, the eternal pessimist, have always had the sinking feeling that someone saw this shameful display, and counted it as a check against me.

So, anyway, tomorrow morning. 10:30. Jewel-Osco's. Yes, all this worry over a meager job at Jewels. I'm trying to get a job as a bagger-boy, or perhaps a cart-kid. Or maybe even a stock-stripling. Now it seems like anyone should be able to waltz in and nail that one - certainly the stakes aren't as high as in the interview for, say, a newspaper photographer. But considering my history, I'm not so sure. I need some guidance. And I still don't know what the hell to wear.

So, somebody - anybody - help me out! Coddle my fragile, bruised ego and tell me it'll be okay. But better yet, tell me I'm wrong! Let me know how you've had worse interviews. I probably won't get a job tomorrow, but at least I'll know I'm not alone.