Whatever, dumbass. I don’t know how you dealt with being poor all your life, it is so gross…. —- Actually, yes I do know. Because you are useless. Do not, put me in the same category as you.
Well too bad, because I would switch back to that life any day if I could. So be a dear and piss off, because you are annoying the hell out of me. And when I am annoyed, I doubt that I will ever work at the level that you want me to. And who knows, I might just manage to get you fired. I can be very convincing.
I don’t screw anything up —- that would be your job.
Useless? And who’s the one doing actual work around here? Oh, sweetie, I wouldn’t dream of doing that; we may have the same job -- and we may have the same salary -- but we are not the same. And you are not the better one.
Why is that, because now you know how much you wouldn’t be able to live out here in the real world, princess? -- you...you wouldn’t do that. You don’t have the power to do that, and Brian wouldn’t listen to you, especially after he sees how much you haven’t done. You wouldn’t.
Matchy Matchy? What the bloody hell are you talking about? If you need a trip to the nuthouse, I’ll gladly pay for that.
Whatever you say, bitchboss, just don’t think I’m going to smile when I am at it, because this place is disgusting, you people are disgusting and what else can be said about it? Oh wait, the fucking roller-skates, they are so annoying.
You and what money, bitchbrat? You’re in the same rut as we are for the same reasons now -- we work to get by.
This place was a whole lot better before you showed up, let me tell you. Be a dear -- if you can stomach that -- and get something to wipe away all the grime, if you find it so repulsive; although I do doubt that any amount of cleaner could get rid of your spoiled filthy ass. And we’re disgusting, huh? The ones who actually do work around here, the people who earn their paychecks and get by on that and only that? We may not have people constantly fussing over us like you and your dumb posse of nannies and groupies alike, but at least without them we can survive; the same can’t be said about some folk here, wouldn’t you say?
Suck it up, baby. And get the order at that other table -- try not to screw that up.
FULL NAME: Tiara Andrea Hill
NICKNAMES: Tahnee
AGE: 20
DATE OF BIRTH: January 19th, 1995
ZODIAC: Aquarius
NATIONALITY: African American; French
RELIGION: Christian
ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Demiromantic
SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Demisexual
RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single (and too busy to mingle, mind you)
THE BACKGROUND
PLACE OF BIRTH: New Orleans, LA
CURRENT RESIDENCE: New Orleans, LA
LANGUAGES SPOKEN: English; Cajun French; a little bit of Spanish she picked up at school (she’s choppy, but can hold decent conversation)
FINANCIAL STATUS: Lower Middle Class
MOTHER: Martina Hill (Wren)
FATHER: Arthur “Artie” Hill (deceased; passed away when Tahnee was about 12)
SIBLINGS: n/a
BIRTH ORDER: only child
THE PHYSICAL
HEIGHT: 5′7”
WEIGHT: 121.5 lbs / 55 kg
BODY BUILD: Slim
HAIR COLOUR: Dark brown
EYE COLOUR: Hazel // dark brown
DISTINGUISHING FEATURES: Piercing stare, lovely smile (whenever she does, at least), single piercings in each ear.
DOMINANT HAND: Right
ALLERGIES: Bees.
DRESS STYLE: When she isn’t in her uniform, she’s usually in a nice, clean cut skirt or dress. Doesn’t care much for fashion, and chooses whatever’s there as she has more important things to worry about. Always, always wearing the locket her father gave her with his portrait inside of it.
THE EMOTIONAL
OPTIMIST OR PESSIMIST?: A little bit of both (although she prefers to think of herself as a r e a l i s t more than anything)
FEARS: Failure (academic, or being unable to reach her dreams), being forgotten, losing anyone close to her
LIKES: her father’s cooking, sugar pastries, jazz music, truffle oil, watching the sunrise, roller skating, light blue nail polish, being organized, daily planners
DISLIKES: grape soda, mess, people who think they’re above work, dancing, laziness, smoking, critique (of her own work more than anyone else’s)
PERSONAL PHILOSOPHY:
"work h a r d e r than you think you did yesterday."
And pray tell why the hell I would do that? I am quite sure you are capable of the job yourself, because I am quite content over here eating cheesy fries.
Jesus -- look around, honey. You, me, and ol’ Barbara over there could snap a matchy matchy OOTD together after shift, because guess what - we’re matchy matchy! It’s your job as much as it is mine now, James, get used to it.
And hurry up, otherwise Brian’s gon’na take it out of all of our paychecks, and some of us actually need that money to get by.
Hey Richie Rich -- take care of that table that just left, would you? It would do you some good to, you know, actually do your job instead of munch on the leftover cheesy fries.
