Likely Normal

Gone are the days when getting a job just meant polishing your résumé and practicing a firm handshake. Now? You’re not just applying for a position—you’re undergoing a digital colonoscopy where HR can excavate your entire online existence, from that questionable tweet you liked in 2012 to the Yelp review where you angrily declared a fast-food chain’s fries a crime against potatoes. Employers don’t just want to know if you’re qualified—they want to know if you’re the kind of person who leaves passive-aggressive comments on local news articles or if your Spotify playlists are dominated by bands like Britney Spears or the Backstreet Boys.

Thanks to AI-powered background checks, hiring managers can now piece together your life story from the digital breadcrumbs you didn’t even know you dropped. That LinkedIn profile you carefully curated? Meaningless. They’ve already found your forgotten MySpace page where 14-year-old you listed your occupation as “vampire.” Your privacy settings? Cute. They’ve got tools that can cross-reference your Venmo transactions (“Why does this guy keep paying someone named ‘Dr. Toe Fungus’?”) and your Reddit history (*”TIL this candidate moderates r/ExtremeCouponing and once live-tweeted a 12-hour Golden Girls marathon.”*).

Even your gaming profiles aren’t safe. That Call of Duty username you thought was hilarious in college? Now it’s Exhibit A in the “Cultural Fit Assessment” meeting. Your Steam library full of Goat Simulator and I Am Bread? Clearly a sign of questionable judgment. And God help you if you’ve ever left a Google review—nothing says “hire this person” like a scathing takedown of a local bakery’s gluten-free options.

The worst part? Half this data is wildly out of context. So what if your Instagram has 400 pictures of your cat dressed as historical figures? That’s not unprofessional—that’s branding. And sure, maybe your Twitter feed is 90% arguments about Star Wars plot holes, but that just proves you’re detail-oriented (and possibly a Jedi).