Gene and I are sitting in the unheated office, chafing our hands like two shivering Dickensian orphans, while I prowl around the onlines looking for jobs.
“Brr,” I say.
“Brr,” he agrees.
“It’s really just the first joint of my fingers that gets cold,” I say. “Everything else can be covered in sweaters and stuff. I need fingerless gloves.”
“Yes,” he says.
“Wait, I have fingerless gloves!” I remember. “But, oh, they cover my thumb. That won’t work, my thumbs are two of my four typing fingers.”
“Heh.”
“Do you think it would be good to write in my cover letter that I want to work for this company because I’m pretty sure they have central heat?” I say.
Ha, ha, ha! We laugh.
But seriously, hire me. It’s cold in here.