Kwame is twenty-nine. He has an MBA from the Harvard Business School, where he presumably majored in Well La-Di-Da. He's been an investment manager for a Wall Street firm. He's very cute.
Ereka [sic] is from New York City. Keep that in mind for later. She learned business at her parents' pizzeria, and now she does marketing for a cosmetics company. And she is going to her "job interview" in that classic item of professional women's attire: a tube top. I'm sure it's a very sophisticated Donna Karan Executive Tube Top, though. It probably has a pocket for your cell phone.
"Hi!" Or rather, "Haaaaah!" Wow. It's Troy, and he's from...Boise? Really? It sounds like Boise by way of Alabama, a little bit. He says, with a weirdly self-satisfied tone, that he gave up college to care for "[his] mother and [his] disabled little sister." It's all just a little too chipper for my comfort. I'm surprised he's not wearing a shirt with the sister's picture on it or something. I think he says that he's the president of his own lending company, but it might have been "linen company" or "landing company." Or "Lennon company," although I'd think that would be a rough gig these days. Or "Lenin company." Hey, ironic!
Amy is from Austin, and has decided to skip the tube top in favor of a sleeveless gold dress. She tells us that she once had "stock options worth millions," but they all went poof in the dot-com bust. Another very elastic term? "Worth." Amy has her MBA and "work[s] in the high-tech industry," whatever the hell that means. Maybe she works at Best Buy. I also want to point out that she introduces herself as "Amelia," and then the show uses a graphic that says "Amy," and for quite a while, I was writing the recap trying to figure out who was Amy and who was Amelia. That was before I figured out that they were the same person. I never claimed to be bright, which is why I'm not trying to get a job working for Donald Trump.
Now we see a guy check in with the receptionist who can't even say he's there to see Donald Trump without laughing. I feel you, dude. She asks him his name. "Bowie Hogg," he says. Oh, yeah. Bowie Hogg has arrived, people. And it's pronounced Boo-ey, too. Just like the knife. Unsurprisingly, Bowie is from Texas (he's not one of the Delaware Hoggs). He has a business degree, and he works in sales for an express delivery service. I have a feeling that without his name, Bowie would be watching from his couch, just like me.