“Maybe I could help,” I start again.
“No,” she answers. “I don’t cheat at crossword puzzles. How insecure do you really think me to be?”
As she’s talking, I use her general indifference toward me to look over her shoulder at the puzzle.
“If you’re looking for four down,” I tell her, “it’s Cerberus.”
“See?” she asks, slamming the crossword book on her desk and the pencil after it, “I tell you to hold on, I tell you that I want to do this thing on my own, and now I can’t even look at that puzzle until I’ve forgotten that I’ve met you.” She looks me up and down. “And that might take me all day.”
Cheeky.
“I’m Emma Roxy,” I tell her. “I’ve got an interview in about 20 minutes.”
“So, you’re one of those punctual, anal types, huh?” she asks. “I bet you love being dominated. People like you always want to be dominated in a sexual situation.”
“Because I show up for an interview early?” I ask.
“Because you blabbed the answer I was looking for and ruined my whole afternoon crossword break,” she says.
“I don’t understand,” I tell her.
She looks me up and down again and says, “Yeah, you don’t.”
Is there something particularly offensive or threatening about my general appearance right now, or is this woman just a snotty bitch?
“So, are you that chick who knitted seat covers for all the firehouses or what?” the snotty bitch asks.
“I’m an actor,” I tell her.
“I didn’t know we were having a waitress on the show today,” she says.
“No,” I tell her. “I’m a real actor. It’s my job. I go to work at a movie set and have cameras filming me.”
“Well, isn’t that just splendid for you,” she says. “It’s been a while since we’ve had a porn star.”
“Look, I really don’t have the time to stand here and argue—” I start.
“Yeah you do,” she snorts. “You got here 20 minutes early.”
I might just have to smack the shit out of this chick.
“Could you just let him know that I’m here?” I ask.
“Yeah,” she says. “I’ll tell him.” She picks up the phone and dials a number. “Yeah, Denise, when he goes on commercial, could you do him a favor and tell him that his porn chick interview is here and she’s chomping at the bit?”
What the hell is her problem?
“Yeah, thanks,” she says into the phone and shakes her mouse, turning on her computer screen to show yet another crossword puzzle. She hangs up the phone. “Yeah,” she says, staring at the screen, “someone will send you in in a little bit.”
“Thanks,” I tell her, but I don’t think she fully appreciates the level of sarcasm in my tone.
I try to get a closer look at her computer screen so I can ruin another answer or two for her, but she manages to turn off the screen before I can see anything clearly enough to read.
“Have a seat,” she says in a less than pleasant tone. “You’ll be on in a few minutes.”
I’d love to continue to focus on my annoyance at this rude human being, but my phone starts to ring.
“Hello?” I answer, again making the rookie mistake of not looking at who’s calling.