I once stripped during a job interview...

Allow me to elaborate.

It wasn't for a test shoot on the beach.

It wasn't to be a shameless naked body double for someone who couldn't be bothered to get their kit off.

It wasn't to be a stripper.

It wasn't to do with any other job you can think of that requires one to strip off.

Brace yourselves. This one is up there with as stupid as you fucking come.

I'm not even sure how I talked myself into it.

Let me paint you a picture folks. It's 2012. I've just been approached with a life changing corporate role which would catapult my career into realms I never thought possible at that point in time. Let's just say the chances are, you're reading this blog on the brand of phone of the company I was trying to work for... Ok, fuck it. It was Apple. I don't really know if I'm allowed to mention them, but hey ho, we're all friends here.

My headhunter Helen briefed me scrupulously prior to the big day of what to expect; a whole day of individual and group exercises which would consist of single "interrogations" and presentations to many. I was prepped fully on the 1:1 parts, and I knew exactly how to work the room during a group exercise. (For anyone who needs tips post-apocalyptic times when going for your brand new shiny jobs, drop me an email, I'll help you gladly).

Anyway, I digress. Helen focuses my attention to the presentation part of the day which apparently needed to be based around my passion in life. I'm informed that previous successful candidates have thought outside the box to obtain such obscure roles. One guy so I'm told, played a ukulele to the board, along with a little sing song. Another discussed breastfeeding in a way that would make the guys of the room understand how women felt uncomfortable when they did it in public. One girl made cupcakes, and if I'm entirely honest, what is the shagging point of giving out cupcakes to your future bosses unless you're going for a job in a bakery? I'm not sure she got the job, but it got me thinking as to what I'm passionate about.

Queue my great idea. Bare with me. My prezzo (Apple jargon for presentation) started off with me standing in front of the most senior guys present on the day. I hand them a CD to put into their disk drive on their Mac's, which lets face it, could have contained a host of viruses or home made porn. I refrained from both on this occasion by the way. I mislead them to believe that my PP which I'd worked on for days, was an accumulation of life achievements, and my love for my family. I clicked through slide by slide of various heart warming photos of Mia, and other precious people in my life at the time, to a Green Day track I believe?? Could have been Coldplay. I REALLY DON'T FUCKING KNOW. I WAS FAKING IT SMH. I strategically set up the next song to play Beyonce Run the World (girls) to support my indiscretion of brave stupidity as the moment of truth descended upon me, and the unsuspecting senior members of Apple UK.

This was my time to shine.

I change my approach to the room, and I know it's now or never. They can defo feel the shift in energy too. I'm aware I've been planning for this for time, and I only have one shot to get this right. 'Do not fuck this up Lou' I say to myself, as I slightly feel the beads of sweat running down my back, my tits, and dare I say it, my crack. I can't feel my legs, and I'm pretty sure the words coming out of my mouth are being performed by a ventriloquist with his hand up my ass.

I pull out a bag of tricks from beneath my desk and proudly inform everyone that I've been cleverly deceiving them this entire time and that my true passion is yet to be revealed, but should be guessed by them from the various accessories, props and clues that I'm about to show them. I make eye contact with the panel, and tell them there's a prize up for grabs for the first person to guess my passion from the aforementioned clues. They look at me with confusion and anticipation. Meanwhile, Beyonce is still playing. I am pumped to the fucking high heavens. My first clue to leave the bag of tricks is a super sized family tub of Vaseline. The 'deer caught in headlights' look on their faces at this point makes me realise I'm fucking crazy, and absolutely on another planet. I'm like nothing they have seen before, and not in a good way. But I'm committed now, and not a quitter. I have to see it through.

They suppress what can only be described as a belly laugh, meanwhile I carry on talking as if I don't know what's coming next. I'm dismayed to discover that nobody guesses my true passion based on the massive tub of lubricant which I can only surmise they all now think I'm obsessed with bum sex. I proceed to my next two clues of Nike sweat bands (which I spent £40 on to ensure there was enough for each of the board to wear at least one each) and a massive box of Jelly babies.

Boom. Dan got it in three. It was in fact running. (I was hugely into long distance running at the time FYI). So the only thing left to perform now was my piéce de résistance; give these bastards a PE lesson. My idea was once they had guessed correctly, I was going to invite them to share my passion with me, even just for a moment. I should have probably quit while I was ahead, but no. I had to go the extra fucking 10 miles.

I kicked off my brogues to the amazement of the panel. Next, I felt myself peel off my shirt, untucking from my chinos, and pull it over my head. I unfastened my belt and pulled my trousers to my ankles, then flipped them off foot by foot in what can only be described as a Full Monty freestyler. I was actually having a great time, but I was aware that this could also go massively the other way.

I'M NOT SURE HOW I WASN'T ARRESTED.

Please let me mention here that I did have micro gym kit on underneath my business attire, I wasn't fully naked. Even at this point, I didn't stop. I proudly informed Dan he was the winner, and threw him the box of Jelly Babies to save for later, but not before they all partake as a group in my stretching routine. I fucking kid you not; they got up out of their seats and performed hip rolls, side bends, quad stretches and back stretches under my direction at the end of my prezzo.

When it was over, I shyly collected my clothes and shoes from around the room, and put them into my props bag. I thanked them for their time, and that I hoped to hear from them soon. This was my last task of the day, so no need to get dressed again.

I'd like to mention to you all at this point during my confession that all of the offices at Apple are made of glass from top to toe, which I had no idea about prior to my selection day. Not only did I just strip for the heads of Apple UK, but for the whole of Apple in Stockley Park.

What a cunt.

Needless to say, it only went and fucking worked. I don't merit my success to my extremely risky prezzo methods, but to the fact I commanded the group presentation/exercises like the boss that I am. I worked my ass off for that job. I worked out the math equations, I was the time keeper, and I was the flip chart maker AS WELL as being a main contributor/director of convo. I was also the only female present the entire day, including around 20 applicants and all of the Apple board. I did it for myself, but it was still a one up for us girls.

I went on to work for Apple for years, where I achieved a shit load of stuff. Naked-interview debacle aside, I smashed the fuck out of that episode of my life.

To you crazy mad bastards who took a chance on a crazy stripping Scouse bird all for the sake of a box of jelly babies, and a fucking laugh to last you a life time, I'll be forever grateful.

Join me again another day to find out what other things I thought was a hoot at the time, that I can't believe I got away with.

Peace and love.

Louise x