You're right man...absolutely. I'd probably sulk out the front door, wiping a solemn tear, pregnant with the tattered remains of my manhood, and wish her a good day. Then a call I'd have to make...She'd stare you down. Right tf down. And you know it. You'd go in there: 'Hey, I saw the video and, yes, but Aero/LW/Eastman blah, blah, blah' and there be an intense silence. She's just look at you, and wouldn't blink. You'd have the urge to protect your upper body, maybe half-heartedly scratch your left elbow with your right hand, and she'd just not break the stare. You wouldn't even hear the reply, the stare would be so steady. Finally, you'd start to reply, like some sad, squeaky-voiced clown. 'Do you even skive?' she'd ask, genuinely amazed. And you'd be lost. You'd have lost.