Page 78 of Invisible Bars
“Oh, ok. Did I do something wrong?”
Chi leaned forward, his elbows on the table, his eyes squinted like he was about to break some devastating news.
“Listen…” he began, glancing at me, then back at April. “I’ma keep it a stack—ifyouget a call back, it’s because we was drunk or high when we went through the folders again.”
Usually, I’d try to clean up whatever wild shit Chi said—make it sound less harsh, maybe soften the edges a little—but not that time. That time, I let it land exactly how he threw it.
“Oh-Okay.”
Once she was gone, Chi muttered, "She came in here trying to playReal Housewives of Imanio Kors.Bro, you better block her."
The third applicant came clicking into the room like the job was hers, off attitude alone—loud heels, loud perfume, and louder energy.
Soon as I saw her, it was already ahell nofor me.
She had on a crisp white blouse that was one sneeze away from popping, a tight black pencil skirt, and red bottoms that had definitely seen more parking lots than galas. Her nails were neon green with dollar signs on the pinkies, her lashes looked like they were ready to sweep the floor, and the word “Blessed” was tattooed in cursive on the side of her neck like it came with a gospel mixtape.
“Morning!” she greeted us, then plopped into the chair before we could offer. “I’m Shaquavia, but y’all can call me Sha.”
‘Sha’ popped a piece of gum and casually pulled out her phone like she was about to reply to a group chat.
Chi leaned forward, clearly entertained.
I sat back, even more intrigued—not by her qualifications, but by how far this was about to go.
Look-wise, she was disqualified on sight… but they say looks can be deceiving. Maybe, just maybe, her brain didn’t match her presentation. But then again… maybe it did.
“So,Sha,” I started, already annoyed, “can you walk me through your resume? Specifically, any relevant PR experience?”
She waved a hand with four-inch acrylics. “Oh, baby, I do hair and PR! I did the grand opening for my cousin Peanut’s hookah lounge and made the flyer on Canva myself! It went viral—on the block. We had sixty people show up before the police shut it down.”
Chi’s eyebrow lifted. “Viral on the block? That’s a new metric.”
“Oh, and I also managed my friend’s OnlyFans page for six months. Got her numbers up before she got pregnant and retired.”
“So you consider that brand management?” I asked.
“Hell yeah! I was working on her image, her captions, and her DMs. I know how to create public interest. Even made a fake scandal once.”
"After telling me all of that, why do you think you’d be a good fit for this position?"
“Because I don’t take no shit! Period!" she replied confidently, folding her hands over her knockoff Louis Vuitton purse. "If somebody got something to say about you in the press, I’ma clap back before the ink dry. You gon’ be protected at all times."
Chi clapped and laughed.
"Look, bro. I can’t even lie; Ikindalike her. She got hustle and her energy is on a thousand."
"This is PR," I muttered, unimpressed, "not a rap battle. Sha, I think you might be in the wrong interview."
She flipped her hair. “Hear me out! I got credentials! I also did six months of online communications and public speech at Morris County Tech. I got my own business page—over 12K followers—and I helped another one of my cousins get her baby daddy’s mugshot scrubbed from Google. That’s skill.”
Chi, cracking up, leaned in. "You got any DUIs?"
"Not in the last year," she answered, truthfully and a bit proudly.
"Multiple baby daddies?" he kept going.
"Three." She held up three neon nails. "But only two get on my nerves."
