(no subject)
Apr. 22nd, 2019 10:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lonelysingletonNo. of times have checked makeup this morning to be certain I appear as pinnacle of poised, professional journalist: 32; No. of cigarettes: 3 (v.g.); No. pages of notes: one half, but okay as I am certain improvisation will come naturally as I am brilliant haha!
The interview had fallen into her lap. Truthfully, Bridget wasn't entirely sure how she'd managed it. All she knew now was that she had to follow through. This would either make or break her entire journalistic career, and considering her career had barely started, it seemed important that it not become dead in the metaphorical water.
She hadn't chosen the location for the interview-- Bridget assumed some Yakuza PR person had decided-- but she turned up at the Japanese restaurant in the heart of London only 17 minutes late.
Unavoidable, really, considering how difficult it is to get a cab at this time of day with no notice. Also had to find perfect professional journalist skirt, which was at very bottom of laundry basket from night out last weekend for Shazzer's birthday.
Still, she felt very important and prepared to interview the infamous O-Ren Ishii. At least until she was led into a very empty back room to sit at the end of a very long table.
Perhaps should have brought bodyguard or embassy person or similar. Or at least made sure someone knew where I was going, in manner of blind date where one might be murdered.
The interview had fallen into her lap. Truthfully, Bridget wasn't entirely sure how she'd managed it. All she knew now was that she had to follow through. This would either make or break her entire journalistic career, and considering her career had barely started, it seemed important that it not become dead in the metaphorical water.
She hadn't chosen the location for the interview-- Bridget assumed some Yakuza PR person had decided-- but she turned up at the Japanese restaurant in the heart of London only 17 minutes late.
Unavoidable, really, considering how difficult it is to get a cab at this time of day with no notice. Also had to find perfect professional journalist skirt, which was at very bottom of laundry basket from night out last weekend for Shazzer's birthday.
Still, she felt very important and prepared to interview the infamous O-Ren Ishii. At least until she was led into a very empty back room to sit at the end of a very long table.
Perhaps should have brought bodyguard or embassy person or similar. Or at least made sure someone knew where I was going, in manner of blind date where one might be murdered.
no subject
Date: 2019-05-01 12:47 am (UTC)O-Ren treats the new assistant, who is an assistant and not a friend, much more carefully than Sofie. When the nervous young man comes to retrieve her from the back garden, she shows no displeasure at waiting.
She enters the back room with only the sliding of a paper door to announce her, and flanked by only said assistant and a pretty young waitress who begins to set out tea as O-Ren settles onto the chair closest to her reporter.
There's always a show to it, and the show only hiccups when O-Ren really looks at the woman, the slightest hint of a double take.
no subject
Date: 2019-05-05 05:27 am (UTC)Should have looked up Japanese customs or greeting. Do I shake hands? Bow? Curtsy as I would the sodding Queen?
As it is, Bridget is struggling with the decision as O-Ren Ishiii walks across the room and sits, standing just as the other woman settles, and then awkwardly sitting in her own chair again.
"Hello. And... welcome... to England," Bridget says, immediately realizing she's put her foot squarely in her mouth and set a horrible tone for this entire interview.
She was nervous before, but somehow, it's only gotten worse after O-ren actually walked in.