As I sat in the interview chair—my feet hurting from wearing non–slippers, my legs chafing from slacks, my dignity clearly left on the curb—it occurred to me how much like dating interviews are. For your consideration, I present a sanitized and idealized version of myself. I shall now pretend to be something I'm not so that you'll give me something you otherwise wouldn't. And I won't believe a single word you say, because I know you're doing likewise.
At least they paid for dinner.