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I knew my ending was weak, but I had trouble finding the words to say.
He burst out laughing. “Done now, hun?” he asked, and I just glared at him.
“You’re such a jackass,” I started, but the doors closed before I could finish the sentence, and he disappeared. “What nerve,” I muttered out loud as I headed toward the doors for the law firm.
I was feeling flustered and upset and discombobulated. He’d totally gotten into my head. I opened the door and saw a kindly older lady sitting there.
“Hi,” I said.
“Hello, dear.” She pushed her glasses up her nose. “Are you Caroline?” she asked, shifting papers on her desk in a wayward fashion.
“No,” I said, shaking my head.
She flustered through some papers. “Oh, yes, yes, yes. Sorry. You’re not Caroline. She got another job. Are you Mark?”
“Mark?” I repeated, staring at her. Did I look like a Mark?
“Yes. Are you Mark Connected?”
“I don’t know who that is. No, that’s not me.”
“Oh, okay. Then how can I help you?”
I wanted to ask her if she needed a new prescription. I wanted to ask her if I looked like a Mark. I wanted to pull out my small mirror and see if my mustache was growing in already. I’d just gotten it waxed the week before. It shouldn’t be looking that bad. How on earth could she think I was a Mark? I was wearing a dress, and I had boobs, and long hair and red lipstick and…
“My name is Polly,” I said finally.
“Hello, Polly,” she said. “Can I help you?”
“Yes. I’m here to see Mr. Parker.”
“Dr. Parker,” she said, blinking. “Do you have an appointment?”
“No, but I was hoping to inquire whether or not he was looking for some interns this summer.”
“Interns, you say?” She blinked and looked me up and down. “Oh dear, we don’t have any funny business going on here.”
“Sorry what?”
“Dr. Parker’s not like President Clinton, you know.”
“I’m not really sure what you’re talking about,” I said.
“Did you say your name was Lewinsky?”
“What?” I stared at her, and she laughed slightly.
“It’s just a little joke of mine, dear. My husband and I always say that if Monica Lewinsky had been an employee and not an intern, then…”
“Is it possible to see any of the attorneys?” I cut her off.
“But why, dear?”
“Because I would like to inquire if there are any jobs available because I would like to work here this summer as an intern or,” I said quickly, “an employee, whichever position is available.”
“Oh, no, dear.” She shook her head. “The only position that would be available would be mine, and I’m not leaving.” Her eyes narrowed. “You’ve not come to take my position away, have you? They’re not firing me. I say, just because I take two-hour lunch breaks, I’m entitled to it. I’m an old lady, you know. I’m a retiree. I had to go back to work because social security is not paying what I thought it would pay, and do you know my health insurance costs? It’s sky high. My medication costs me five hundred dollars a month. Can you believe that? Five hundred dollars a month and…”
“Oh my, is that the time?” I said quickly as I backed away from her. “You have a nice day.”
