For future reference, here's some stuff of interest from Toral's bio at the NBC site: She was one of a "handful of officer-level women structuring, negotiating and closing multi-million dollar deals" at Goldman Sachs, "has traveled to more than 15 foreign countries over the course of her career," is a "skilled day trader [my emphasis] and self-made multi-millionaire," owns "upscale" restaurants in Manhattan and Brooklyn, and lives in NYC, but likes to "spend her free time at her homes in Miami Beach and London." This is not a woman without accomplishments, and until today I thought she was comfortable with them. I'm just saying. Oh, and if you think you need to jot all that down for later? I wouldn't bother. Something tells me you'll remember.
There are lots of weird foot fetish shots of Rebecca's ankle: the Ankle on the Berber carpet, the Ankle at play, the Ankle turning a corner. Toral feels that the candidates are there, basically, to "demonstrate work ethic." She says that she and Rebecca share a "different style of thinking" than "those individuals, who have not been trained by large corporate institutions." God forbid. I mean, you know I really like Rebecca, so I'm willing to agree that she is better than lots of other people, but she's not better than Marshawn, or Alla, for Pete's sake. But that "trained by institutions" line is super-creepy. That's not work ethic, Toral. Work ethic is when you do it yourself, because you are hardcore -- not because you are a robot programmed to destroy and exterminate. And set up multimillion dollar deals. And talk about them. And talk about them. And talk about them. And GOTO 10.
Every time Jen W. speaks, see if you can hear a tiny voice go, "So?"
Every time Toral speaks, see if you can hear a tiny voice saying something about being a totally awesome investment banker. (Hint: You can! It's totally her!)
Every time anybody says anything about "the weakest link," abandon your child and take up drinking like a British lesbian.
Every time Jen M. speaks, imagine she wants you to "call now," because she's "lonely" and "waiting to talk to you."
Every time Kristi speaks, feel a little worse about yourself.
Kristi comes in and marvels over the broken ankle with a poorly-disguised glee that's hard to explain if you're not from the South. Southern girls...really like gross stuff. Horrible stories about trampolines and stuff like that. I've called it the V.C. Andrews Factor before, and it's what's at issue here: Kristi can't believe that there's a broken bone in there, and she kind of thinks it's great, but it's not any kind of slam on Rebecca or the Ankle, there's not even really schadenfreude here, it's just that she loves it, the brokenness of the bone, separate from whose bone it is or how it got that way. Jen M. comes in working just an insane amount of Blair Warner hair, and she, Felisha, and Kristi stare and stare at Rebecca. Felisha -- in the pink fur collar from last week's Alla Mystery of Fashion -- interviews that it might be a problem, but Rebecca just grins that grin she grins and says it's not going to hold her back. Rebecca grins like someone giving birth in an aboriginal culture where bad spirits will enter you if you scream during labor. Like how Katie Holmes will.