Get comfortable, friend. Grab a snack, pour a cold drink, and settle in. I experienced this so you don’t have to — and I promise, it’s worth the read.
This company is not hiring. What they’re doing is intellectual exploitation under the guise of recruitment. If you're a seasoned Customer Success professional or consultant: protect your time, your energy, and your work.
INTERVIEW PROCESS
I didn’t apply. The recruiter reached out to me. I was moved quickly through three rounds of interviews that were unusually easy — and overflowing with praise. It didn’t feel like they were evaluating me. It felt like they were priming me.
The first strange moment happened during a one-on-one with the hiring manager. Another team member was supposed to join — at least, that’s who the calendar invite showed. But only one person came. I mentioned it casually. The hiring manager explained the absence by saying that the other person’s wife had just had a baby.
I followed up afterward with the recruiter to offer congratulations. No response.
Ten minutes after that meeting, the same recruiter moved me forward again.
At the next Zoom meeting, the “new dad” was there — and looked confused when I congratulated him. He eventually gave a hesitant “thank you.” That moment stuck with me — especially because Raptor offers paid paternity leave. So why was he showing up to a panel interview days after a birth? It didn’t add up.
A company whose mission is to protect children… using a fabricated story about a child to exploit candidates?
That’s not just dishonest. That’s disturbing.
By the end of that meeting, they gave me the “good news” that I was moving forward.
Something about that struck me — because at this stage, you’re not typically “advanced” during the meeting. You’re evaluated. Followed up with. Given space.
But in this process, everything moved just a little too fast — like they already knew exactly what they were doing.
The final round was a formal presentation. I was asked to build a multi-layered QBR — a strategic plan outlining onboarding frameworks across two hypothetical customer types. I poured days into it. I researched, I built, I polished. I delivered.
But right before I was set to begin, one of the team members spoke up. Someone had audio feedback, they said. Everyone muted. Eventually, they claimed it was coming from my line. I had no complaints of feedback in any earlier calls — and I haven’t had a single audio issue in over 15 years of remote work.
Still, I turned my volume down. The issue mysteriously disappeared.
It wasn’t just about sound. It felt like a quiet, intentional moment of disorientation — a shift in tone. Power being silently reasserted before the main event.
But I kept going. I gave the presentation. And once again, the praise rolled in. One of the panelists even said she planned to use my ideas internally. She mentioned they were “wrapping things up quickly” and had just a few more presentations to review.
She closed with:
“We’ll get back to you — either way, we’ll get back to you.”
That was the last time I heard from anyone.
INTERVIEW QUESTIONS
The most memorable question I was asked was:
“If I gave you all of your accounts right now with no process, what would you do?”
I answered:
“I’d organize the accounts in an Excel sheet with key information.”
Their reaction:
“Perfect answer! Amazing! Nailed it! That’s exactly what I would’ve said!”
That was the tone throughout.
No scenario questions. No STAR-based prompts. No strategy, no metrics, no problem-solving. Just surface-level hypotheticals followed by over-the-top praise.
It didn’t feel like an interview. It felt like grooming — to deliver something.
OUTCOME
Two days later, I received a generic rejection via a “noreply” email.
No feedback. No follow-up.
When I reached out — silence.
And the role remains posted.
At the start, they told me they’d already interviewed 100+ candidates and were eager to move fast. That created momentum. It built urgency. It built trust.
But the urgency vanished the moment I handed them my work.
I should also mention: before the interviews even began, the recruiter sent me a PDF of their health, dental, and vision benefits “for my perusal.” At the time, I appreciated the gesture. In hindsight, I recognize it for what it was — a psychological anchor. It built emotional investment, fostered security, and made the opportunity feel real.
That trust wasn’t just broken. It was used.
FINAL THOUGHTS
I was ready to leave a great company and take a pay cut because, as a mom, I believed in their mission to protect children. But now that mission feels like nothing more than a shield — a shiny cause to distract from darker patterns beneath.
One panelist — the one I’d congratulated — stayed mostly silent throughout the process. Maybe he was the only one who felt uneasy about what was happening. At least someone did.
And as for me?
I’m not even upset about the time I spent.
The presentation I created is excellent. I enjoyed making it. And it’s now a standout piece in my portfolio.
So thank you, I guess.
But...
If they contact you — run.
If you're in process — safeguard your work.
If they ask for a project — think twice.
This is not a hiring process. It’s performance theatre.
It’s idea harvesting.
It’s intellectual exploitation — plain and simple.
Looking back, the sudden silence felt less like forgetfulness and more like a tactic — a subtle form of gaslighting designed to make you question your worth, your instincts, your reaction.
But you can’t vet professionals who are born strategists and not expect them to notice when the process doesn’t add up.
Patterns are inherent to us. When something’s off, we see it.
As my grandfather used to say:
“You can’t out-slick the slicker.”
If you’ve experienced something similar, I encourage you to report it to the Federal Trade Commission or your state Attorney General’s office.
Candidate exploitation is real — and we don’t have to stay quiet about it.
Because if this is how they spend their time, one has to ask:
When exactly are they keeping the children safe or are they keeping them safe at all?
NOTE TO THE TEAM
Hey besties. Did you enjoy your case study as much as you did my presentation?
I imagine this will be just as useful internally.
Good luck.
