Henry was just acting all aghast at the price of the sweater I’m wearing.
“You’re not a lawyer!” he yelled. Then, after a pause, he suggested, “Hey, maybe if you stay at your job long enough, you can go back to school and get a better position there.”
I laughed. “Um, no way. I see what those people do there all day and it looks bo-oooo-ring. I’d have no interest in that.” Basically, it seems they just do research all day, and I told Henry that when I was working at the Tina & Eleanore Company two years ago, there were instances where we were asked to do some light Internet research to make sure the records we were working on were correct.
“I mean, in the beginning, I humored them and did some Googling, but after two days of that tedium, I just pretended it was correct and then went on to the next record.”
Henry stared at me, like he so often does.
“I just don’t like working,” I continued, examining my pretty fingernails. “It’s kind of beneath me.”
And this is where Henry’s blank stare constricted into complete and utter disgust.