Nahnie didn't even know what she had been doing on craigslist. Well, actually, she had probably just been really frustrated with work. She was sitting there, in her gross uniform, still smelled like the diner, but not ready to take a shower yet. She needed to blow off steam first, since last time she had showered angry, she ended up breaking the shower head off and was fined by the school. Also, her and her roomies had to use other showers for about a week until they came and fixed it. So there she had been, sitting on the computer, looking for a new job on craigslist.
It had been the usual bullshit - some horny old dude who was a patron at JoJo's had tried to touch her inappropriately without her permission, and Nahnie was not about that shit. She had went off on him before, but that was not looked well upon because he had given them business since the place opened, and Nahnie had gone off on too many customers before, scaring them away. So she did her best to avoid him, but unfortunately the diner was small and she was his waitress, so she had to plaster a fucking smile on her face and put up with that shit until he left ten minutes after closing.
The customer service industry was not for her, obviously.
When she stumbled across the personal assistant ad - she didn't know why, but it sounded pretty cool. She had no idea why she actually submitted the application. Nahnie, alpha female, issues with authority, a personal assistant? But somehow she ended up filling out the application (after she had a couple of shots of the emergency vodka she replenished after giving John the last of her previous supply), and actually somehow landed an interview.
She was genuinely shocked. So shocked that as an appreciator of shock factor, she was shocked to be shocked, and appreciated it. So shocked, even, that when time came to get to the interview - she forgot about it. It had to be a joke, she probably had the shittiest resume out of all the applicants, but still - she had to rush home to get ready. Home-home, unfortunately, since Baum was out of the way.
Of course she had shit for clothes there. Luckily she had a dress and tights - but she needed a jacket, since immodesty was like a thing or whatever, and shoulders were totally immodest right. Ugh. Well the only jacket she had was a leather blazer, so it would have to do. She put what makeup she still had in her room - so, one of ten thousand smoky eyeshadow sets and red lipsticks she had. She also managed some blush to hopefully conceal her annoying freckles.
Basically she was not dressed for an interview. Why was she even going? Well, any chance at a better job, right? There was no way she was getting hired - she was late, for christs sake - but hell if she wasn't going to show up.
Of course, she didn't have time for the subway - so she had to break out the motorcycle she was almost finished working on. It ran fine after she had worked on it for months, she was just in the middle of painting it and making it her own. She had been busy with school and work, so she hadn't got the chance to really try her out for real yet. Well, here was her opportunity - ten minutes late already and New York traffic was rampaging as usual.
So she got on her helmet, mounted, and weaved the fuck through all these cars, jesus christ, where did they all come from? And on she went towards 666 Fifth Avenue.
She attempted to remember all the interview tricks she had learned - fuck, what was that one? Right, don't swear, it wasn't "professional". Well - frick if she was cut out for this job already.
Parking her still unnamed bike in the parking center across the street, she ran scros the street like they did in the movies, somehow managing to not get run over. Her hair was a mess from the helmet, but she didn't even give a fuck - frick at this point.
She used the mirror in the elevator to attempt to fix her hair, but it was to no avail. She just ended up throwing it up into a ponytail. The helmet was still in her arms as she never trusted leaving it, and wow she was not going to get this job, there was no way in hell.
The office of the employer that was not going to hire her was actually - well, it was pretty fricking rad. The dark woods and the cool artwork wowed Nahnie and she almost wished she had a chance a this point. There was something thrilling about it, and maybe it was just the adrenaline pumping from dodging traffic and traffic officers, but even the almost creepy air it gave off was interesting to Nahnie and she wanted to punch herself in the face for forgetting about this.
Approaching the desk, she smiled, fake as it was, and held out her hand to shake the lady at the desk who was as attractive as she was intimidating. Her other arm held her floral printed helmet. "Hi, sorry I'm late, traffic was shi - horrific." Frick. "I'm Alannah Strider," the name tasted like milk that was two months past the expiration date "may I have a seat?" Somehow she remembered that tip, to ask before you sit down or whatever.