You're Not As Interesting As They Say You Are.

Boo!!! Some things are not as I remember. Lladro now charges me $3.45 for my tripple espresso. The same drink Starbucks charges me $2.05. The lady with the assymetric hair told me she has to charge me extra for the cup. I told her she was silly and sulying my morning with her price taggery. So off to Vcitrola I skipped. I ordered my drink, and it was $2.50, I gave them my money, tipped a dollar, and they started to make it, but I saw how they were making it, and I asked them if they could put it in a plastic cup. They said if they did that they would have to charge me for a latte which is $3.40. Well I never. Seattle's independent coffee houses have somehow conspired to price fix an iced tripple espresso. I am somewhat curious to see how far this treachery extends. Perhaps tomorrow I will try Solstice. A little bit of a walk, but I got time. With respect to those other two coffee houses, I would say they lost my business, but they haven't had it for the last 2 years. Maybe if I were here to support their businesses they wouldn't need to resort to such peevish capitalism.

I gots lots to do today, and I refuse to be side-tracked my some ego-tripping head case attorney. Yes. The interview of which I spoke of yesterday was nothing at all like Flashdance. It was unpleasant.

First: The lady resorted to childish cross examination tactics to elicit responses from me. Something I have absolutely no patience for. So at a certain point when I realized she was playing a big game I would just answer no, I don't know, I couldn't say, or my personal favorite, excuse me?

Second: The lady scoffed at my salary requirements even though it is half what I made last year and less than what I can make temping. She asked me if my salary reflects my prior work. I smiled and looked into her milk fed eyes and said "It's substantially less, but I'm new at this."

Third, and this is by far my favorite, she said that her work focused on high profile celebrity clients. I wouldn't make this shit up. I think I must have looked at her and nodded my head like I would at some crack ho from the projects that tells me her daddy bought her an A6 for her birthday, and then proceeds to go on a long winded and incomprehensible explanation as to why she's thumbing a ride to Rite-Aid.

Fourth, she fancied herself an analytical samurai. After proffering a multiple choice scenario I told her that A & C were so interchangeable and in many instances indistinguishable there is no way that, absent additional information I could seperate the two.

"So you're saying you don't know?"
Again with the silly side-show cross-x antics.

My facial expressions came undone at this point and I was looking at this lady like she was all shades of mental. Undilluted disdain poured freely from every furrow in my brow. And I really have to applaud myself for this. Every time she rephrased my answers, I would shift in my chair and look to my left. You know, over at the invisble jury that only exists in this lady's tortured mind. A little cruel perhaps, but games are only fun when you're not playing by yourself.

And finally, as if that weren't enough, she tried to sell me the job. I have three associates, I don't offer them any clients, and no way to develop a practice, it's a team, I go to court, and at this moment I stopped listening. I literally started playing with a figurine on her desk. "That's curtains bitch!" in courtroom parlance.