Great!
Don't be this guy.
LOL
Funny that you link this.
Once upon a time, I was interviewing virtually for a remote position. It was a very basic data entry, chimpanzee-level position for undergrads with no prior experience. I was a little overqualified but I just needed something to tide me over while between jobs. The interview was very basic -- why do you want to work for us? why should we hire you? what is your greatest strength? -- and so on, just a list of questions probably from a Vox article titled "50 Most Common Interview Questions", stuff I'd been asked in interviews since I was sixteen. They were lovely interviewers and I actually enjoyed it, if it felt a little mechanical.
Then they asked me to stand up. On camera.
Now, at that moment, I had the top half of my professional wardrobe -- a dress shirt, a tie -- but the bottom half was, I believe, boxers with rubber duckies. They said something along the lines of "prioritizing professionalism" and I understood what they meant, but they didn't explicitly ask "are you wearing pants for this interview?"
There was a quick beat of silence as I processed their request, and my heart sank down to lie with the bug-eyed, neon yellow duckies plastered across my skivvies.
Now, fortunately, I am shorter than Gordon Ramsey's temper. I am locked in leprechaun mode 24/7 and I've learned to take advantage of it. So I called their bluff. I said "sure" in a confused voice, as if I had no idea why they would ask, then stood up. By virtue of my shortened leg bones and by bending my knees ever so slightly, I kept everything below my shirt hem out of the camera view. This way, I was forcing them to either directly ask me to show my pants, which would be bizarre and I could gracefully refuse that request, or they would back out and not push it.
Incredibly fortunately, they took option B and they didn't push on it. They thanked me and I immediately sat back down and my rear was glued to that chair. I think I asked if they were checking if I was a bot or something but I don't remember what their response was. I left the Zoom call and literally just sat there for a second, thinking about how I almost flashed an interview panel of three middle-aged white men my cartoon duckie boxers.
In the end, I got the job -- and I swear to God, I did not wear pants for a single second that I was clocked in. However, I will be fully pantsed, with belt and zipper and button done, for my Sealy interview, especially as this is my #1 school. UTMB is fully deserving of pants and I'll try to class up my underwear with briefs or something, maybe bust out the lacey black lingerie for them.
