The man-child next to me at Le Pain, breaking things down for his new assistant:
"Andrea is annoying. I’ve given her unrealistic budgets on the projects she wants to work on; so if she says yes, we make a sh*tload of money. If she says no, we don’t have to do it. Because we don’t want to do it."
…Someone might want to tell Andrea.
The next half hour of conversation covered everything from what to do when everyone ends up blackout at a celebrity-filled after-party: “Drunk girls always try to do business. Take note of that. I don’t want to work with b*tches like that.” - to how to handle “star-f*ckers” in meetings: “She kept staring down at her t*ts, and I was just like, I’m not in the mood today. Get her out of there.”
Charming.
The poor child across the table from a-hole extraordinaire just kept smiling, nodding eagerly and nervously rubbing his legs.
Living. The. Dream.