Oct 06, 2004 11:25
I must be a sucker for strays.
My feline owners all seem to have wormed their way into my heart by looking terribly cute and saying with their cat telepathy that I am the human to meet their every need that requires opposable thumbs or interventions with Other Humans. Tribble-kitty is the worst of the bunch, Lady Bast knows.
Now, I seem to fallen for a line put out by a post-human (?) stray. Since we started expanding with lots of new customers in the Far East, having somebody around that understands Cantonese/Mandarin/Nihon-go would be a very good thing. Ifurita was staying in the garage and after all hell broke loose a while back, now needs some sort of paying gig that doesn't involve being a lackey for Dr. Ben Evil.
The personnel req for a customer service position is a done deal (with some help from Diane), and Ifurita made a persuasive argument for herself. I don't want to know how she manages to get the proper documentation to work in the US; I had enough hell dealing with the FBI and other law enforcement agencies the past few months. Besides, suspicion of la Migra (no matter what cabinet department it's in) is a long standing family tradition, no matter what side of the border my relatives were born on.