Bad News

I did not get my Plan A job at Shell. D'oh! They said they liked me, and I interviewed really well but that as there was only one job there was someone they preferred. So on Monday I shall trudge off to work at Plan B (as they shall now always be known) in Hammersmith... that means traveling on the Underground. At rush hour. *shudder*

Speaking of which on my way back from the Plan B interview I was accosted on the DLR by two gentlemen who inquired as to my height. I took off my ear phones, told them (biting my lip so as not to give the measurements in metric which is my current favourite way to annoy the "How tall are you?" crowd) and put my earphones back in. They seemed quite put out that I had deigned not to speak with them, but what did they expect? If you start the conversation off with "How tall are you?" I'm not likely to react well, and unless you are either very interesting or incredibly attractive I am unlikely to continue to converse with you. I'll politely answer your question, don't get me wrong, but I will think less of you.

If they could just have said "Hello" or "Excuse me" I might have been slightly more polite to them.