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.”


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