Picture this: Nicole is a finance director at a growing company that just implemented an AI-powered scheduling assistant. It's supposed to be smart—reads everyone's calendars, finds optimal meeting times, sends professional invitations, the whole nine yards. What it doesn't have is a concept of American holidays or basic human decency.

The week before Thanksgiving, Nicole's team is rushing to fill a senior accountant position before year-end. She asks the AI to "schedule final interviews with the top three candidates ASAP—we need someone to start December 1st."

The AI, being efficient and literal, scans calendars and finds availability. Thursday, November 27th, 6:00 AM shows as "free" for Nicole and the CFO. Interview invitations go out to all three candidates.

The 6 AM Thanksgiving Surprise

Two candidates immediately decline, responding with varying levels of confusion and horror. Candidate one writes back: "I believe there may be an error—this is Thanksgiving morning?"

Candidate two is more direct: "Is this a test? Are you testing if I'll work holidays? Because I won't."

But candidate three—let's call him Robert—accepts the invitation without hesitation. No questions, no pushback. Just a calendar acceptance at 11:47 PM on Tuesday.

Nicole doesn't notice. She's already deep into Thanksgiving prep mode, hasn't checked her work email since Wednesday afternoon. The AI calendar bot sends a reminder to all participants Wednesday evening: "Interview tomorrow at 6:00 AM."

Nicole, in a turkey coma at 9 PM, does not see this.

The Morning After (The Night Before)

Thursday, November 27th, 6:00 AM. Nicole's phone starts buzzing. It's a Zoom call. She squints at her phone, sees "Senior Accountant Interview—Robert," and experiences the five stages of grief in real-time.

She joins the call in her pajamas, hair in a bonnet, looking like she just woke up because she absolutely just woke up.

Robert is there. Dressed in a full suit. Sitting in what appears to be a hotel room. He's smiling.

"Good morning!" Robert says cheerfully. "Thanks for making time on the holiday."

Nicole stares at the screen. "Robert... it's Thanksgiving. At 6 AM."

"I know! I flew in yesterday. Figured if you were willing to interview today, you were serious about the role. Shows commitment to efficiency."

The Uncomfortable Truth

Nicole has to make a choice: admit this was a horrible AI scheduling error and look incompetent, or lean into it and see where this goes.

She leans in. "Absolutely. We value dedication here."

They conduct a 45-minute interview. Robert is incredibly qualified—15 years experience, CPA, managed teams of 20+, has implemented systems that saved previous companies millions. He's also clearly someone who prioritizes work in a way that makes Nicole slightly concerned for his wellbeing.

"Do you have family in the area?" she asks.

"Not really. Thanksgiving's just another Thursday to me."

Red flag? Green flag? Nicole can't tell anymore. It's 6:47 AM and she hasn't had coffee.

The interview ends. Nicole goes back to sleep. At 11 AM, over actual Thanksgiving breakfast, she tells her family about her morning.

"Did you hire him?" her sister asks.

"I don't know," Nicole admits. "He's either the most dedicated candidate ever or has absolutely no boundaries. Maybe both?"

The Resolution

Nicole does not hire Robert. Not because he showed up—that was actually impressive in a dystopian sort of way—but because during reference checks, his former manager said: "Robert's great, but he doesn't understand work-life balance. He'll answer emails at 3 AM and expect everyone else to as well."

The calendar AI has since been updated with federal holiday restrictions. Robert found another job at a startup that describes itself as "always hustling." They're perfect for each other.

The Recruiting Wisdom: Automation is great until it schedules interviews on Thanksgiving. Always review what your AI tools are doing, especially when they touch candidate experience. Also, if someone accepts a 6 AM Thanksgiving interview without question, that's not dedication—that's a cry for help. Or a cult member. Either way, proceed with caution.

Nicole now manually reviews all interview times. Her family still brings this up at every holiday dinner. The AI has no regrets because AI has no consciousness. Probably.