I was on the other side of a group interview session on Saturday. If only it didn’t have to be on Saturday. Or begin at 8am. So I’m excited for Thanksgiving. The break will be nice, though there’s a lot to catch up on by EOB Wednesday.
There was a security guard in the Temple building checking IDs who had a number of exchanges with round-faced, mustached Indian man who also seemed to work there and otherwise stared off into space while I waited by the door for lost-looking interviewees. Some lady in a short skirt who couldn’t take her eyes off her iPhone was totally a bitch about not having her ID. Everyone who came in either had kids or an instrument in tow, or was a well-dressed college girl. We only had two boys out of 17.
I went back upstairs at 11, waited outside the elevator with two girls, high school probably, and a doddering old dude with a cello. The older girl was saying “Grandpa, you can’t say things like that.”
Grandpa said, “I’m telling you. I can smell a terrorist.”
“Don’t be so prejudiced, oh my god.”