TIFU by drinking an entire bottle of Louisiana Hot Sauce at a job interview

El Negro
I have had a number of job interviews recently that went poorly and did not result in securing employment.

I started to think I needed to do something during an interview to really stand out, be impressive, unique, and highly memorable. I thought it could be risky, but might work out.

I came up with the following idea: After concluding the interview, after the hand shakes, etc, when leaving the room stop, turn around, and say "There's one more thing you need to know about me."

Then pull out a bottle of hot sauce, down the entire bottle, slam it onto the ground and say "I can handle the heat." Nod confidently, leave the room.


I imagined that they would be really impressed and wowed by such a performance.

Well it didn't pan out like I thought it would. It was only a small bottle of hot sauce, I figured it would be no big deal to actually do. I should have tested at home first, but I didn't.

I was nervous as a bitch-ass during the interview, but I was determined to follow through with the plan.

So I started exactly as described above. I was leaving, I turned around, maybe not with as much swagger as I'd imagined in my head, and I declared "There's one more thing you need to know about me."

I pulled out the hot sauce bottle, almost dropped it, and started to open the bottle. In my head it was all one quick confident motion, like an electric Indiana Jones, but instead I fumbled around and had a tough time getting it open. It felt like a nightmarish eternity but was probably only about 20 seconds. Enough time for one of the interviewers to ask me what I was doing.

I didn't answer directly. Instead, after I got the bottle open, I repeated "There's one more thing you need to know about me." (But stuttering.)

Then I guzzled down the entire bottle of hot sauce. I instantly regretted it. My mouth and throat felt like lava was swirling around inside me. I immediately started to gag and loudly cough, I was crying involuntarily. Tears hardcore streaming down my face. I was sweating like a terrible fool.

I desperately tried to scream "I can handle the heat" but just kept coughing before I could get anything out.

The interviewers were all standing up looking at me in horror and confusion.

A few seconds before I threw up all over the floor I knew it would happen, but I tried to hold it back. I couldn't.

I threw up all over the floor. It hurt as much on the way out as it did on the way in, if not more so. The vomit felt like flaming barbed wire shredding its way through my neck.

I should mention a disturbing amount of fiery mucus was also leaking out of my nose uncontrollably.

After I finished throwing up I could not bear to look at the interviewers. I hoarsely mumbled an apology and started to stumble as quickly as possible out the door.

I have never been more shamed in my life.

I didn't get the job.
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>Get new idea after failing on this last try

>"There's one more thing you need to know about me."

>Walk over back to the interviewer, spaghetti slowly drips from my pockets as I realize what I'm about to do

>tell them I play Atelier to impress them at my ability to hold in my social anxiety despite such an embarrassing truth


>the spaghetti bubbles up and the tomato sauce starts dripping even as I stand still

>"Please understand, that I own a copy of Atelier Totori."

>"I don't know what that is. Is that a video game?"

>struggle to contain my embarrassment

>clenching asscheeks together to hold in my hotsauce-fueled shit

>voice reduced to a mumble

>"handle heat i play aterlier torti give job please"

>"Are you okay?"

>the hot sauce i chugged for that failed interview earlier finally wins out as the shit breaches through my asscheeks

>propelled forward at 60mph

>crash through the interview guy's desk

>he's holding onto me for dear life

>all the while spaghetti is floweing out of my pockets like fumes

>the empty hot sauce bottle finally ejects itself and is washed away in the waterfall of liquid tomato and noodles

>crash through the entire row of business buildings, broken glass shards and bits of concrete in my face


>interviewer is covered in saucey shit and spaghetti

>my pocket rocket shows no signs of stopping

>he tilts me backwards

>the sheer force of my hot sauce shit has reached 650mph, we are now propelling upwards

>the spaghetti and spicy shittery intertwines and falls down to earth in glorious yellow and red-hot brown streams as we head towards the stratosphere

>the next interviewee in line who got my planned position instead frolics in the mess falling from my anus

>the g-force is causing my asscheeks to flap vigorously and create a gale

>spaghetti and hot shit blowing through the air on the planet below

>3 miles upwards now

>interview guy has died from lack of oxygen, his body falls to the surface below and is burned into a skeleton the instant it makes contact with my fecal matter

>guess he couldn't handle the heat.

>my transformation is almost complete

>as I leave the atmosphere my body turns to plastic and my head gains a cap

>now having assumed the form of a giant hot sauce bottle rocket, steer myself across the cosmos with my spicy shit and spaghetti trail to bring successful job interviews to all alien civilizations

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