Asshole with a face

When I first moved to New York I got an internship assisting with the promotion of a shitty, over-the-hill, French band. There was one other intern in the makeshift office in Chinatown. When I showed up on the first day, the boss introduced me to the other intern and promptly started squabbling with him about how he hadn't been posting enough ads on myspace. Our main objectives as interns was to spam bloggers about the band, add as many friends as possible on their myspace account, and watch while our boss rolled delicate cigarettes and smoked them in the shade of the scaffolding out front. It took me a few days to realize it was a shitty job and another few days to realize the boss was a total asshole. I stuck around for about a week or two to use their internet because I still didn't have any in my apartment. The first time I butted heads with the boss he called me a retard. My face must've gotten red, but I didn't say anything, I must have been so surprised. When I got home that night he wrote me an email asking if I could send him a link to an instrument rental company I'd been researching. I wrote him back and told him to go fuck himself and never heard from him again... Until today.

I'm temping at an office where he now works. He just walked in and saw me at the front desk, did a double-take, shook my hand and said "interesting".

I realized right then that you can spend your whole life running from assholes. You can run from every asshole boss, every asshole co-worker, and every asshole with a face. But, no matter how far you run, an asshole might find you, look you right in the eyes and say: "interesting".