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Post by Bass on Oct 26, 2019 21:20:16 GMT -8
' Hello Ms. Chuhai,
I have received your resume passed on from one of our hiring managers and would like to learn more about you and answer any questions you may have about Momentum Financial.
I know that you your time is valuable, so I am willing to work to your availability. I have included a link below that will give you access to my calendar availability and allow you to book a time that best suits you. If none of the available times work for you we can arrange a meeting outside of business hours to conduct the interview at a local venue.'
In the email below, a link can be found that leads to a calendar of Bass's schedule. It's not a conventional timetable and there's certainly nothing vague about it. For several weeks there's just training listed from 6-12pm and 1-5pm every single day until the end of the month. It leaves out a single slot for the foreseeable future during work hours, 12pm-1pm. Upon selecting and confirming a choice the interview will be booked.
'I look forward to meeting you.'
Bass's large calloused finger dropped the ultimate bomb on the left mouse button and fired off the email with no less power than if he just clicked like a normal person using a mouse and keyboard. He wished he was strong enough to make the internet faster sometimes, but ultimately internet was not of this world, it was something intangible like a web. Almost like it's also called the World Wide Web... And sites are in full called Websites.... He squinted and started to rub his chin, meticulously planning on how to fight against this slow internet. As the bar slowly pretended like it was loading only to regress several times, Bass leaned forward and gave his screen the stink eye.
It sent two seconds later.
Letting out a sigh he leaned back in his chair and did a little drum roll on his desk while looking out to the halls just outside of his office. Located at the very top of the dome like capsule tech structure, his office ultimately didn't lead out to much but a staircase and elevator with only a basic vending machine that sold one hundred percent water brought in from nearly fifty different sources. There was Central City Springs , South City Springs, West City Pure Waters, Northern Hydration, and East City Springs. Just five different brands to name a handful of them found in the vending machine. In fact, there were so many brands that even if someone bothered to keep up on their water branding, they might not recognize even half of them, found in rare quantities coming from exotic places in the world. Brands like 'Volcanic Contrast, Peak Water and Bottled Geyser were just a couple of these experimental interesting brands that dared to put a twist on one of every species known to exists most basic necessity. Besides air. Air is also pretty important.
His office itself was presented almost like a trophy room. With the comforting glow of the depths of a book packed library, a single mahogany desk outstretched further than it needed too. With glass cased presented symmetrically leading up to a two chairs just off center of the approaching side of his desk for interviewees and employee discussions. Inside these cases included things like a Katchin Sword, Katchin Armor, the robes of a rumored past kai, various weapons that who knew he had the proper licensing too, as well as various trophies including a massive teeth for the most part. One thing that stood out was a case that within held a singular violet circle, two dimensional in appearance that just floated at the center of the display defying all concepts of gravity. In another case was what looked like some kind of candy wrapper, and in another were two glowing orange shards of who knew what- Bass knew, but to some it might not be an obvious answer.
With that being said and done he'd hop out of the top story window to get back to training. He'd check in after every level he did during the day for a response to confirm the meeting time. After all, if they decided to book him for tomorrow he'd need to be on top of that.
WC: 721 | TWC: 721
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Post by Yuzu on Oct 26, 2019 23:47:28 GMT -8
South City was a small feat of engineering and ingenuity, Yuzu had to confess to herself. An island city, most of the resources necessary to construct the marvelous structures had been shipped here one way or the other. The spirit of the logistics necessary to keep the town fed, to avert crises, and to functionally administer the place was not beyond her recognition. She sat in a park, at an unremarkable sterile white table, and sipped on an americano. A bitter flavor bit at her, and she reminded herself that she had requested no less than four shots of espresso. It was, for the most part, just another afternoon for her. Humans and animal folk of all kinds walked about around her, paying her no attention, save for the lingering stares of a handful of drooling men. Her response was simple, a casual sip of her drink and not a moment's notice. Instead, her eyes fixated on one building. In the distance, a dome seemed to rise above the sparse trees in the concrete jungle. At the top, she knew, a man resided. It was one of several positions she bothered to take the additional time to research in her spare time. From what she had observed, for the past several days, he was nothing less than a fastidious and diligent individual. She took another sip of her afternoon dose of caffeine, her phone vibrating in her pocket. Without even bothering to glance at the screen, she tapped a button and a notification was read to her through her earpiece. New e-mail received from: Bass, Momentum Financial.She finished taking a sip of her americano and placed it down on the table, crossing one leg over the other. "Play it." The robotic voice read to her the text but could not convey the information provided in the link. She was disappointed, but not surprised by, the lack of a specific time to meet. It was, of course, customary to provide someone in her place with a choice. The e-mail finished and she pulled the phone out of its holster on her belt, ignoring the weapon seated next to it. With a few swift taps, the screen illuminated before her and shred her surprise. "I wasn't expecting any less," she spoke to no one in particular as she realized that he had given her the illusion of choice. A single hour was presented to her as the only viable alternative each day for the next month. No reasonable individual would request time outside business hours, and there was clearly no alternative options during the day. The breadth of time spent on work was, clearly, excessive. But Yuzu had been scouting burgeoning corporations in South City for some weeks now. There were fewer companies with faster realized growth potential than Momentum Financial, and at the core of that growth: Bass. Her goals were simple, establish relationships with successful benefactors who could assist her in her future enterprises. She had a wide array of skillsets that she knew a man like Bass would appreciate. She selected the soonest available option, tomorrow, quickly typed a response to accompany the appointment: 'Mr. Bass,
With respect, I have chosen the soonest available option. I understand that you are exceptionally concerned with business at hand, and that any interview should be conducted timely to both facilitate your renewed focus on important matters, and permit me to fulfill the requisite duties to help you achieve those goals. I look forward to meeting you tomorrow.
Have a pleasant day, Yuzu Chuhai'She clicked the send button, firing the e-mail quickly off into digital space, before de-activating her screen and sitting back down comfortably to resume sipping her americano. The mild buzz she received from four shots of espresso helped her to focus on the task at hand; mentally preparing herself for a successful interview. She had to be prepared to act dynamically and to be as suited as possible to Bass' needs. She took another, larger, sip of americano, set the cup down, and pulled out a pair of binoculars. Discretion was not a concern. She peered through them, into his office, and wondered what frustrations could bother such a man and how she could eradicate them on his behalf.
WC = 711 / 711 Bass
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Post by Bass on Oct 27, 2019 12:40:05 GMT -8
A couple minutes after she would've seen him leap out of his window and land on the ground, she'd see him quite literally fly up the side of the dome and slip in through the window once again. He had been wearing what looked like a muscle shirt and light sweats, a towel draped over the nape of his neck as he'd just come out of the neighbouring dome-like training facility that had some odd transformation capability to unfold into a cylindrical structure from time to time. Sitting down at his desk and looking at his computer screen he'd open up the email and read it. Sitting there silently for several moments, his antennae did a little wiggle and he sat back in his chair. Spinning around he'd look outside of the window to the outside at large. Extending an arm out in front of him, he stretched his limbs before leaping out of the window again.
With that little bit sorted out, he'd remain in that training facility for the rest of the day, if she bothered to stick around for the rest of business hours she'd see him leave the so called 'rehabilitation center' between five and six in the evening, having an assortment of things mostly including paperwork he'd gotten from the office within a suitcase in one hand, his dress shirt loosely buttoned and replacing his muscle shirt and some more publicly appropriate dress pants as opposed to some baggy sweat pants. That would be the end of his day, if she bothered to follow or not was of her own volition, however as it stood the day would uneventfully come to a close and the new day would come;
That day being interview day.
Rolling out of bed and slamming into the floor, the Bass-ic impression of his morning was mundane to the maximum. Lazily scooting over the carpet and flopping into the bathroom, the Namekian extended his arms with their innate extendable capacity to pull himself onto his feet using the bathroom counter as a hold. Looking at himself in the mirror, he noticed one of his antenna was just drooping off to the side, he was still half asleep. Slapping himself in the face the antenna perked up and he rolled his shoulders. Teeth brushing, toilet flushing and a showers cold water gushing, yet afterwards even some nutrient mushing and ice-tea can crushing. With that said and done all that was left was to get dressed and head out. The routine was the same as always, one of five weekdays treated much the same with morning training.
He got there bright and early at 6am, almost dinging his head on the door frame to enter that so called rehabilitation center before in privacy changing into his training clothes. A whole nearly six hours later at 11:55am, a sparkly clean Namekian with draped forward antennae would sit at his desk dressed in a form fitting red striped dress shirt with a black silky tie. He also wore sleek black dress pants and shiny recently polished black dress shoes, it was interviewing time.
Looking at the door, a palm pressed up against his right cheek and his fingers just strummed on the counter rhythmically. The cordial thing to do would be to go pick them up in the door, though he wanted the annoying formalities to end at the emails, this as always was going to be a wake-up call for the interviewee, number forty three for the position of Executive Assistant wouldn't be an exception for the shocks to follow. Though he did go through the effort to pull the landline telephone off of the receiver and dial the front office with his pinkie finger. Calling up Acore, his receptionist, he'd speak up.
"Hey Acore, if she's not already in the lobby we should be getting a Ms. Chuhai in for an interview for our Executive Assistant listing. When she shows up if she hasn't already, just have her sign in and send her escort her up to my office please and thank you. I appreciate it, buh-bye." And with that he let the phone land down on the receiver and end the call. Yawning, the Namekian just sort of flopped forward on the desk face first, the only thing between his face and the mahogany surface of the desk being Yuzu Chuhai's resume.
WC: 731 | TWC: 1452
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Post by Yuzu on Oct 28, 2019 1:42:43 GMT -8
Yuzu had permitted the alarm clock in her room to rouse her later than usual. It was eight thirty in the morning by the time it began blaring, and though she had sought to give herself the luxury of additional sleep, she had been afforded none. She had instead spent the past hour as prescribed by her plan, in bed, eyes open, tracing imaginary outlines in the stucco patterns of the cheap hotel ceiling. It was an unfortunate truth that she did not have the funds to afford anything luxurious. The room itself seemed more like a glorified closet. A bed ran along the length of one wall, parallel to the axis of the room that ran to the door. A window looking out into the sordid brick wall of the adjacent building occupied the other side. Opposite the bed, a pitiful desk held a cube that could have been called some decades ago a television. A landline sat next to it, along with some sticky notes, a worn stool, and a refrigerator stocked with overpriced beverages. In the middle of the room, occupying the cramped area she needed to traverse through to get to the bathroom, was a ironing board. Atop it, a neatly folded blouse, pressed pants and a jacket, all perfectly fitted to her body. She sat up, cracked her neck, and raised an eyebrow as she looked over her clothes. "Time to get the day started," she muttered to herself, as if it had not already begun for her. She navigated her way around the ironing board, stepped lightly into the lavatory, and let the door stay open as she cranked the water nozzle to hot. The showerhead sputtered to life. The shower took no more than ten minutes, two minutes spent brushing her teeth, another fifteen were spent taking care of her hair, and a final five were dedicated to the perfect application of toner, blush, and eyeshadow. She took a moment to stand back and look at herself in the mirror, pruning through various thoughts, before settling on a simple desire. She'd make today hers. She closed the portable beauty kit with a single, commanding press, left the lavatory, and swiftly dressed herself. She was ready. The walk to the Momentum Financial office was familiar by now. She'd made the journey no less than a dozen times by now, and each time she had to remind herself not to be particularly surprised by the man leaping from the windows. His reputation had preceded him. Indeed, she had opted to apply for this position because of his many talents; certainly his capabilities with finance, but perhaps more interestingly, his particular ways of training. Rumors held that the regional manager of Momentum Financial would negotiate most effectively with his fists. That thought played through her mind as she entered the front door, proceeded across the lobby, and stared at the receptionist. It was 11:30 a.m. on the dot. "I am here for the noon interview regarding the opening for the executive assistant position," she explained, "it is not necessary to inform Mr. Bass, I can wait." The secretary acknowledged her and directed her to sit, which she did. She nursed a nearly finished coffee, enjoying the lingering aroma of the beans, and she flicked open her phone and browsed through financial reports, news, and all sorts of business. At exactly 11:55 a.m., a phone call range from the desk. Shortly after, the secretary came and reached her, asking her to follow his lead. The elevator was a short walk away, and she could have sworn that she detected the aroma of a tree wafting through the halls. The elevator itself hummed with the typical music one might expect, though it was fairly unnecessary, as the dome itself was not so massive that the ride took an exhaustive amount of time. She stood in the hallway, only one door remaining. She sucked in some air, puffed her chest, and glanced at the vending machine. Then she glanced again. Her eyebrow raised. She had to wonder, did Bass truly have such passion for water that he required the specific requisition of such a vast diversity of the same liquid? Or was this merely an artifact of an obsessive predecessor? The door opened in front of her, the assistant inquiring within to inform her that she was here. She tore her eyes away from the vending machine and towards the opening door.
WC = 747 / 1468 Bass
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Post by Bass on Oct 28, 2019 20:36:55 GMT -8
At the strike of twelve on the dot, Acore had reached forward and opened the door. Stepping inside briefly she would speak with Bass, the sound through the partly opening door clearly indicating that she was informing him of the interviewees arrival and imminent entrance. Then the door swung open the whole way, revealing the office up close in all of its rustic glory, trophies and bookshelf covered walls included. Sitting back with his phone in his hand was Bass, who upon Acore's announcement looked up and tossed the small handheld device onto the desk just beside his keyboard and mouse. He'd speak to her. " Sure, thank you Acore. I can take it from here." Giving her a brief smile, the secretary gave a small little nod and promptly stepped out to gesture Yuzu to enter. Should she choose to accept the prompt to enter, that would be Bass's first time seeing the to-be Executive Assistant. Looking forward with one elbow planted on the desk which subsequently ended up a palm that supported his head placed upon his cheek, he gave her a cursory up and down glance. It wasn't at all the sort of lecherous look that some might give, but if she was acutely perceptive he was in fact checking for posture and a general aura right off the get-go. Confidence was key with these kinds of things, and the gradual strumming of his left hands index, ring finger, middle finger and pinkie upon the desk was enough to tell he was already deeply in the midst of determining if she was a fit for the position or not. After all, every moment he spent in this interview was time he wasn't training or out and about enjoying his hour off training- which under most circumstances he'd neglect, but this time was an exception. A planned one even, as Yuzu entered if she did, there would be a quick knock upon the door. Calling over, the Namekian welcomed whoever it was inside. Opening the door once again was Acore, this time with a white plastic bag in both hands, the bag itself straining to carry the weight of what would soon become apparent to be Bass's lunch. He spoke. " Oh, right, I ordered in. Thank you again Acore, that should be all for the interruptions. I appreciate you bringing it up here. Just set it on the desk and I'll take care of it." And in the same fashion as the first time she'd do so, and then respectfully head out. She didn't want to be too intrusive given the imminent interview. With all that out of the way though the Namekian pulled out one of the tinfoil cylinders from within the bag, slowly opening it up. He didn't seem to be too hasty about it, instead erring on the side of not being completely disrespectful as opposed to just jumping into his lunch when he should be introducing himself and helping Yuzu get situated- so he figured he should be doing. The Namekian spoke. " Take a seat...-" Looking down, he pushed the resume out so he could see it a little easier, reading off her name. " Ms. Chuhai. Hopefully your travels here weren't too troublesome." He said, before carrying on. " You can just call me Bass, and frankly I'd prefer to skip the formalities going forward from here as well. If you are fine with me referring to you by first name, I'll do so. However people come from different cultures where that holds more meaning, so if that's the case I'm fine with continuing to refer to you by surname." Sliding the resume off to the side after having read her name, he took a deep breath and sighed. " First of all I'd like to thank you for taking an interest in this new position we've opened in our branch. We are looking to expand in the new future to as many markets as feasibly possible, I've been innovating the company structure for the past couple of months. With that being said if you could describe to me your interpretation of the position's duties that would be appreciated. Afterwards if you have any initial questions before we begin the dreaded prepared questions, as is company policy, do ask them. Though I'll do my best to undermine just about every question I'm obligated to ask in the actual interview, because between you, me and just about all of the other ten people that have successfully made it this far in the interview, I think all of the questions are bullshit. The real questions you'll know from the ones I'm obligated to ask." With that the Namekian gave a nod. And after doing so, fully peeled the wrapper off of the first Burrito of many. In fact, the bag looked packed with them, without taking a moment to literally peer within it might be hard to tell, but eyeballing about ten wouldn't be farfetched. With his initial delivery out of the way, Bass leaned back in the chair with the prologue to a yummy lunch, taking a yummy bite. Eyes and ears focused ahead.
WC: 856 | TWC: 2308
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Post by Yuzu on Oct 29, 2019 1:17:59 GMT -8
"Thank you," Yuzu proceeded into the room and nodded to Bass, waiting to be offered the seat as the secretary delivered Bass' lunch. An unconventional interviewing strategy, to be sure. She was not yet sure if she should take it as a sign to get comfortable. Furthermore, she was not sure she was capable of becoming comfortable. She could force a smile deceptively enough, though she made no effort to now, but she was not sure she could ever become any less formal than using Bass' first name. He gestured her to sit as she unpacked his lunch. For what it was worth, she stood confidently, one hand tucking a folder under one arm, the other dropped loosely to her side, without the need to hide what she was doing or nervously rub her fingers. Instead, her eyes locked with his as she sat. He was watching her, as she expected, though his eyes saw her as only a potential asset for now. "You may call me Yuzu, Bass," she smiled, choosing not to flaunt her sex appeal. She knew doing so would make no difference, or worse, impact her performance. He was every bit the man she'd seen in her lenses. Dark blue skin, unobtrusive antennae, and a body that seemed ready to burst out of the clothes that attempted to contain it. She briefly wondered how often he had to replace the buttons on his shirt, but quickly decided such errant thoughts were a waste of time. She set the folder down against her lap, noting that the spare resume she had brought was unnecessary. Bass had already maintained a copy. From a quick glance at the header, she could tell that it was, in fact, the most current version. There would be no errors in it. Bass was, in a word, forward. Honest, perhaps. Or, more than likely, he did not like to waste his own time any more than necessary. He was direct and all about business. She could appreciate that in him; she shared the same values, though perhaps more than Bass she saw holding her own integrity as containing more value. That was, without a doubt, due to her upbringing as a woman. A woman who wanted to become powerful could never afford to allow a man to find a moment of weakness in her. "Of course," she sighed as he confessed his hatred for the prescription he was to give her, "we all have to play our roles."She placed her hands palm down, nail up, atop the folder as Bass opened his burrito. Of course, she knew the man only maintained a single hour of free time, and had many tasks to accomplish in that short window. His lunch and her interview had to overlap. She decided it was best to begin. "Regarding the role of Executive Assistant, personally I see it as a name for a duty that cannot be well defined. The position must be adaptive and flexible. At the very least, I will support you with maximizing your scheduling, operating and personnel efficiency, ensuring that tasks run smoothly, and that your meetings are perfect. However, I see that you already have a secretary that serves many of those functions." She took a moment to pause and allow her words to sink in, watching Bass eat as he did, and establish that her train of thought was shifting to the crux of her concept of the position. "Therefore, I believe that you are in need of more focused assistance. Your business is expanding, your current staff will soon acquire more workload, as will you. An Executive Assistant is your personal assistant, and is dedicated to making your professional life as problem-less as possible. At times, you may need discretionary assistance, a confidant with no alternating loyalties, accountable directly to you." Her definition was vague, and intended to be so. There was an implication that she would be available to handle any sorts of matters. Certainly, Bass could interpret her idea as one that would facilitate some sort of backroom dealings. And certainly, Yuzu did not want to quell that idea. She knew that the role of an Executive Assistant was typically a glorified coffee fetcher, and yet, she had an idea that this particular man would have a need for a broader skillset. Which was why she had opted to leave the gems on her resume. "As for the questions, I have just one before we begin: are you in need of someone that can keep pace with every aspect of your work?" Her question was strategic in its implication. She had considered to overtly suggest she knew more about his personal lifestyle by looking at the window, but decided against it. She'd allow him to reveal his personal lifestyle in his own time, and she was sure to be unphased by it.
WC = 813 / 2281 Bass
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Post by Bass on Oct 29, 2019 8:20:52 GMT -8
Sitting back and enjoying his food, he continued to listen as he munched away passively. His face for the most part indicated boredom, it's not as if he wanted to go about interviews this way, but as it stood corporate still had a foothold in his branch - that had to be expected. She went through the motions and flipped between answering his questions, complementing his statements with verbal affixes and finally she happened to finish her current turn in the interview off with a question of her own. Despite the irregularity of the question itself, it was one of the things that proved interest in the position and not just grabbing for a salary. In all of the candidates thus far, only three others before Yuzu had managed to check that box off. Shifting in his seat, he popped the remainder of the first burrito down the hatch. Crunching up the tinfoil in a swift fashion to make the crunch as unobtrusive and quiet as possible, he folded his arms and considered his responses. " I suppose you are correct in some capacity. It is necessary to play a role when you are forced too. At least if you want remain orderly. In order to reinvent a system you first need to climb to the top of it. Such a statement while it definitely applies to this company, applies to just about every artificial system that has been formed here on Earth." Sliding a hand over, he scanned over her resume after pulling it up in front of himself with his right hand. Looking it up and down, cross referencing the sheet to the description she was giving, he spoke once more. " I admit I'm curious. Your education indicates that you went to post secondary to acquire a BSc. in Mechanical Engineering. That's to put it mildly a ways away from the field of administrative support. I'll leave the questioning side of this for a minute, it's just something that caught my eye. With that being said your description is about as good as it gets, I'm looking for a number two to manage what is established while I pull the company to higher levels. I can't find time in the day to make new things happen if I'm focused on keeping the house of cards standing. Though I'm jumping ahead, allow me to answer your question." Bass said, tugging out another one of the burritos from the plastic bag. " I think to get the best answer you'll need to be a bit less vague with the wording of your question. Though-" He said, holding out a palm to caution her from specifying just yet. " -as the question stands, for the most part yes. Every aspect of my job save for actual company innovation will be matters that as Executive Assistant I would appreciate you chiming in and watching my back. Those things should be as simple as some of what Acore was doing, delivering food or whatever to my office from the lobby to as complex as suggesting further innovation to the company. In between you should expect pseudo-managerial duties; ensuring workers are on task and collecting feedback regularly on how company innovation has impacted their work ethic, sharing any concerns and working alongside groups such as the party planning committee to pass along information on upcoming company events to me so I can acquire the appropriate funding. There isn't all that much to manage on my current schedule. Once I've finished my medical leave - strategically instated with an exploding leg from a dumpster fire, there will actually be something to work with. That is, if you happen to get the job." Unwrapping the next tinfoil wrapper carefully with a couple of fingers, Bass tugged a drawer out from his side of the desk with his other hand and pulled out a file. Pulling a little pamphlet out he'd set the folder which contained it aside until he was done with the contents pulled from within. The pamphlet to the perceptive eye had a primarily blank cover with in size twelve font; 'Interviewing for Dummies with Dummies'. Flipping it open to the first page and firmly pinching the corner to keep it from flowing back to natural form, Bass briefly skimmed the contents and then started speaking. " So, while I did ask for questions prior to the interview, feel free to ask whatever whenever. In fact I encourage you to, changes up the pattern. I would tell you for some of the questions your answers are meaningless but that's just a blatant lie. Like this question, let's skip ahead and nail this one to the wall. Here's the first question I'll ask before the deluge of terrible questions afterwards." Taking a pause, Bass took a deep breath and then delivered the question. " So imagine yourself not in the South but instead the Northern lands where there's actually snow, actually to make this question climate appropriate imagine yourself on a scorching hot day and you're driving. You only have enough water for yourself, nothing extra for anyone else. Driving through open highway road surrounded by trees you find a bus stop holding several people that wave you to the side of the road. Upon stopping, the inform you that the bus that was supposed to be here hasn't arrived since it was supposed to an hour ago. They're all incredibly hot and at risk of health complications due to heat stroke or worse, I don't know, I couldn't make up this shit if I tried. Your car can only fit one of these people, so you need to choose who you bring to the closest town. The trip will take half an hour, so you cannot guarantee the safety of the other two.
So before you are three people, which of them will you choose? An elderly Earthling, Human, looks to be in her late seventies or early eighties. One of your closest friends, you've known him since grade school and you talk regularly enough. And finally a random guy that has a ton of cash. He's offering you four hundred dollars to drive him to town so he can uuuh... I dunno, do rich guy shit." Bass said with a shrug, before squinting and leaning inwards. " In fact more specifically I think this says..." His eyes narrowed, " -get to his sons school band performance in time." Bass shrugged, before leaning back. "Oh, right, the tail end of what I mentioned earlier. Why after getting a BSc. in Mechanical Engineering, is all your work experience in Administrative Support?" Bass asked, raising a brow.
WC: 1102 | TWC: 3410
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