Hard to tell. Whoever lost it must’ve spilled ketchup or something on it.
It’s beat up and unreadable for the most part. But the barcode is there, so I figure I could toss it like the trash it probably is or I could go see if it’s actually a prize winner.
And the way my day’s going? It wouldn’t surprise me if it was worthless.
But a buck’s a buck. And I’m probably gonna need it once it pegs I haven’t got the job I just left home for after all.
Vanessa takes a moment to sit back and sitting up straighter, actually tries to toss her frozen mane of bleached hairspray passing as hair for emphasis.
Her hair, like her fake chest, doesn’t move. Like she’s made of plastic or something.
“I know it’s a long way to come, and Idounderstand the inconvenience of keeping you waiting so long… But the position’s been filled already. And it was never guaranteed you’d have a position with us,” she clips.
All the sympathy gone from her voice. And it looks like someone’s pulled the cord that plays ‘I’m the boss and you’re not’ on the Vanessa doll.
Trying to frown, but without a single line on her face, it looks like she’s laying an egg instead.
Noticing my own look shifting from inconvenienced to downright angry, it’s clear she wants me out of her office.
And right now.
I’m here for my second interview. Y’know, the one where you turn up because they’ve pretty much said you’ve got the job?
Thing is, my panty size or body shot isn’t in my application so even when I turned up, I could see it in the secretary’s eyes before I even sat down.
They don’t hire bigger girls.
“…Just not a goodfitfor us, but we really appreciate you coming down.” She tries to fake a smile.
A thin line between the duck lips that look like they’ve already had the punch I feel like giving her myself. Her tone of finality is undeniable though.
Vanessa regains her composure and plays her final card: Bat my eyelids and then just stare at you deadpan long enough until you disappear.
And it works.
I’m done here.
“You mean fat.” I practically hiss at her as I stand. The only thing I can think of to tell her I know the real reason why I’m not hired
My ass getting stuck in the teeny weeny kiddie chairs they lay out for interviews not helping my case right now.
The chair stays with me as I stand up. Making me look more foolish than I already feel.
But she doesn’t flinch. I don’t think she even can.
Only the edge of her Botox mouth twitches in what I could mistake for a smile, but it’s more like a smirk.
“Those are your words, Megan, not mine,” she says in a low tone, eying her office phone with the button labeled ‘security’ on it.
But she doesn’t need to bother.
I free myself from the plastic edges of the chair and pause at the door, a final and fatal one-liner is what I need right now.
My kill shot.
Something to really stick it to this cow. This whole company.
“Ummm… Do you have a bathroom?” I squeak. Sounding more like a kid asking the teacher if she can go pee pee instead of telling her where she can stick her job.