She wanted to like him. From the start she really did. She listed the good things, the nice things, the “all-stars” about him. He knew how to dress well. He was clean. He had a good, warm laugh. Other people seemed to like him, so there was that. He had good references, so to speak. Friend of a friend of a friend. The glass eye was a little bit weird but that wasn’t his fault. Childhood accident. He wore a diamond ring on his left pinky. Who does that? His hairpiece was kind of pathetic, but come on. She was wearing her own hair in pigtails for christ’s sake. She tried to remind herself about all that unconscious bias training they made her do at work. First impressions, can’t trust ’em. Last impressions, same. One out of three jokes actually being funny doesn’t make him funny overall. Sallow skin, maybe he was lying about his age. The voice, though. That was kind of a deal-breaker, kind of a show-stopper. He sounded exactly like Mickey Mouse. What was she expected to do with that?