Missed Opportunity for Job Interview Practice
A Holiday Tradition
There’s no better time to start job interview practice than the holidays.
Every year, I watch close friends shepherd their little monsters through another festive season. I see the same missed career development opportunity playing out in public. It forces me to question the future of corporate America. Not because children are terrible. But because adults are raising future coworkers and teaching them exactly the wrong lessons.
The holidays don’t just reveal family dynamics. They explain your future coworkers.
Some people think I’m insensitive. Others think I’ve lost faith in humanity. Both may be accurate. But my conclusions are based on simple observation, the kind you can’t unsee once you’ve sat through enough real hiring decisions.
I meet early-career candidates every day. Bright. Capable. Well-educated. And utterly unprepared for the most basic interview expectations. They don’t fail because they’re dumb. They fail because no one ever explained that intent does not matter nearly as much as presentation.
Universities don’t teach interview skills well. That’s not news. But after a few holiday mall visits, it’s clear higher education isn’t the only institution asleep at the wheel.
Parents are contributing to the problem. Enthusiastically. Confidence without competence is just entitlement with better posture.
Case Study #1: The Cover Letter
Recently, I witnessed a young applicant submit a wish-list letter to Santa.
To HRNasty, this was a combined cover letter and résumé. And let me be clear: this candidate would not advance.
Misspelled words. No structure. No formatting. Written in scented markers. It looked less like a professional document and more like evidence from a crime scene.
Straight to the recycle bin.
The lone bright spot? The letter was addressed to “Santa” instead of “To Whom It May Concern.” That alone puts this candidate ahead of roughly 20% of the real résumés I see.
Accomplishments and Qualifications
The letter listed no qualifications. Skipped good behavior. Omitted contributions. No justification for why the candidate deserved a visit from the CEO of Christmas.
Instead, it went directly to demands:
“I want a Barbie. I want a Nintendo Switch. I need an iPhone 17 Max Pro.”
No context, evidence, or humility. Just vibes.
If this were a real candidate, we’d later hear complaints about “salary transparency” and “being undervalued.”
Case Study #2: The Face-to-Face Interview
This part plays out the same way every year.
Parents allow their little applicant to believe their scented-marker letter worked. The candidate assumes that landing a meeting with the Big Boss was easy. And now it’s time for the in-person interview.
This isn’t just Santa. This is the CEO of Christmas, seated in a velvet executive chair, protected by executive assistants in green tights who absolutely control access and absolutely remember how you treated them.
Parents see a photo opportunity. HRNasty faces a final-round interview with a highly influential gatekeeper involved. Every executive assistant knows more about your future than your resume ever will.
Parents grow visibly annoyed with the elves. HRNasty watches candidates quietly disqualify themselves before the interview even begins.
Then the meeting starts.
The candidate melts. Tears. Panic. No preparation. Unable to answer even the softest softball questions. An interview is not a therapy session. Santa is not your safe space.
We don’t rise to the occasion; we fall back on our training.
Pressure exposes preparation gaps. Always.
Helicopter parent to the rescue
Start Them Young
Right on schedule, the helicopter parent swoops in.
The candidate is extracted. A consolation prize is awarded. A candy cane for “trying.” No feedback. No reflection. Just reassurance.
The parent shoots Santa a look, as if he failed the interview.
This is how we end up with parents attending their adult child’s job interviews. And yes, they later call HR to explain why their kid “deserved” the role.
Next time I’m hiring for a Helicopter Parent, I’ll be recruiting directly from the Santa line. Résumés optional. Entitlement required.
Practice. Actual Practice.
No interview preparation was undertaken before this meeting with the CEO of Christmas.
If this were my kid (as a universally acknowledged, undefeated expert on parenting), there would have been mock interviews. Rehearsals. Reps, Reps, Reps. They don’t call it 10,000 hours for nothing!
I am of Japanese descent, so I call in a favor from a Sumo wrestler friend and get a fake white beard. We are way past visualization. If you don’t practice your answer, don’t be surprised when it embarrasses you.
Santa’s questions are not a surprise:
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“How old are you?” Translation: Tell me about yourself.
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“Have you been naughty or nice?” Translation: Are you qualified?
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“What do you want for Christmas?” Translation: What are you looking for financially?
Our candidate stumbled on the first two and turned the third into a compensation negotiation with no leverage.
And later we act shocked.
Case Study #3: The Thank-You Note
Did I see a thank-you note after this interview?
Of course not.
What I heard instead was: “When will Santa show up?”
Candidates today spiral when they don’t hear back in forty-eight hours. Parents reinforce this entitlement by promising outcomes instead of teaching follow-up.
Christmas morning arrives. Wrapping paper everywhere. Gift tags lost. No thank-you notes were sent because no one remembers who gave what.
Honestly, that might be for the best. No one enjoys receiving the same generic thank-you text that was obviously copied and pasted to everyone else.
I finally connected the dots.
When hiring managers celebrate receiving any thank-you note, it’s usually because expectations have been beaten into the floor. Until they realize every interviewer received the exact same message.
The Lesson (Disguised as a Joke)
It’s never too early to teach skills that compound over a lifetime.
When you reward the wrong behavior, it doesn’t disappear. It matures. It submits a résumé.
And eventually, it sits across from HR, wondering why things “didn’t work out.”
The behaviors you excuse at five are the ones HR manages at twenty-five
Santa smiling while kids cry is exactly how interviews work. You think you nailed it. HR shares a very weak smile. They’re already planning damage control.
Get your kid some reps and have a Happy Holiday.
See you at the after-party,
HRNasty.com
nasty: an unreal maneuver of incredible technique, something that is ridiculously good, tricky, and manipulative but with a result that can’t help but be admired, a phrase used to describe someone good at something. “He has a nasty forkball”.