(X's represent phone number). So I called the phone number and they wanted me 9-7 four days a week. I thought I could do this, so I go in at 5:00 to fill out the application.

I went in there expecting to see an office dog or maybe a cat, and was stunned to hear a squawk of "Hello." I turned my head and looked toward the desk and there was a parrot there looking as if he owned the desk. I walked over and asked for the application, and the parrot jumped on my arm and rubbed it beak over it. So I obligingly scratched the feathers around its neck and it made some cute gurgling sounds.
So I finally pick op the application, and am led into a room to fill it out.
It had the standard things, plus some extra stuff. It asked for height and weight, because the lady obviously wanted someone who looked to be the very picture of health in front of her office. It asked for you BMI, without telling you how to calculate it, and then bluntly said "People with BMI's over 32 will be rejected. Don't give me this big bones crap."
Then it had questions about what your family aspirations are. That was okay by me.
Then it had some complex calculations. You were told to stop, get someone to time you, and you were to perform all these calculations in fifteen minutes WITHOUT a calculator. Okay, so then get to put in your job history and references. Fine. Whew. I'm done.
So I return the application to the front desk, where I notice the crystals everywhere in that room. I am then handed two additional sheets of calculations, more complex than before, and given 30 minutes to complete this, plus a business letter and some word games:

COUCH is to 14769 as CONCH is to ______________.
My response was 'What the heck?'
I then returned the paper to the front desk. They hand me four more sheets of paper. I shook my head and said "I quit. It's gonna take me 2 hours to get here on the bus and two hours back. It's just not worth it."
Then I see a glimpse of the chiropractor. She was wearing a skin-tight spandex tank top, 80s style leggings, and rock climbing shoes. Her waist could not have been 20 inches around. She looked at me and said "You're not thin enough for the position."

I scratched the parrot's neck feathers one last time and fled the clinic.