One after another passing us as we sit on the bench outside the matcha shop on the other side of the Vice building.
I’m sorry, she says. I didn’t know it was here.
I tell her that I don’t care that they didn’t hire me. I would have been surprised if they had. After receiving such a low score on the grammar test that the SEO company gave me, I don’t expect to be hired by a professional writing organization any time soon, especially one so prestigious as the illustrious Vice.
The most important and relevant news organization of our time, as my boss likes to call it, he who hired me as his writer, talking about the current state of things, the Spotify economy, self-driving cars being the most important development in a long while, followed by the little Segway things that people are riding around on.
I personally like that doctor guy, says one of the two cigar salesmen who are already in the shop when I get there this morning, talking to my boss who is playing songs from bands like The Red Hot Chili peppers whom he thinks the baby boomers are keeping down through their pedestaling of Woodstock.