I am Volstagg.

I can't say 'no'; at least, not directly. Not to the effect that it would offend you...but maybe to the effect that it would annoy you.

I just received a call from a particular company whose offer I had to decline; it sounded like they were willing to knock me over with an interview offer. However, the woman on the other end of the line got my name very, very wrong, and she sounded terrifying; though, looking at the company she represented, she would probably have been very, very fit.

Not that it's what I look for upon choosing a company to join, no. No distractions, no, those are bad. I do believe that I'll be okay, because I'm hardly qualified to fumble my way through the cookie jar. I'm simply not tall enough...metaphorically (but, of course).

Anyhow, for those of you in the know, the head of the company of the whose offer I declined is an English tax exile, believed to be living a reclusive multimillionaire's life in Bermuda. (That pretty much nails what we want in life, no?)

I can't really say if I could work for someone like that. There're some of you out there who'd lambast me for being picky, especially over something as detrimentally trivial as this.

What difference would how slim shady the leader of the organization you're never going to meet make? A part of me would even say that it'd be quite nifty, working for a hermit shyster. But I'm not really sure if it'd leave a fine imprint upon my conscience.

Goodwill is better than ill will.

And yes, the woman on the other end of the phone was very, very scary. It was too much to take for my daintiness.

At this point, I wonder if my conscience and my own set of skewered ethics could be used as a vibe reader when it comes to choosing a job. I'm not exactly Balder the Brave; I don't have to uphold a stunning reputation for do-goodery.

With that said, the son of the former head of the company that I do want to be employed in was the second Saint after Roger Moore!

Not that anyone cares.

This job-hunting business feels like a glorified game of cat 'n mouse.

And I still don't know how to properly decline anything without taking the time it would need to apply for a mortgage and pay back the amount.

* * * * * * * *

A conversation in my head between an incredibly straightforward pimp and a Norse god:

'Do you want herpes?'

'Mayhaps if thoust wench is ripe...doth thoust have such a wench?'

My point exactly. There are some things you just wouldn't know how to say no to.

* * * * * * * *

On another note, being called 'Hing Tai' in a non-colloquial way was probably the highlight of my morning.

Salut.