So, the NDA signed by producers of The Apprentice just expired, and one of them has published a tell-all article. Most of the article is about how they used standard reality-TV tricks to portray Trump as being wealthy and intelligent, when in reality he was, and is, a deeply indebted buffoon.
The money shot, however, comes when Trump and the producers are preparing for climax of the final episode, when the winner will be decided.
Per the FCC's rules for game shows, producers could not be involved in deciding who would be fired each week, or who would ultimately win: it had to be Trump's decision alone, like contestants and viewers were told it was. The producers could, and did, give him a presentation about the strengths and weaknesses of the contestants each time he had to make a decision. These were recorded, in case questions ever arose about whether the producers had crossed the line.
So, for the final episode, there were two contestants remaining. Both were men, one white, the other Black. They'd both done well in the final challenge of the competition. As the producers were summarizing the points for an against each candidate, this happened:
“Yeah,” he says to no one in particular, “but, I mean, would America buy a n— winning?”
Kepcher’s pale skin goes bright red. I turn my gaze toward Trump. He continues to wince. He is serious, and he is adamant about not hiring Jackson.
In the finished program, Trump chose the white contestant as the winner.
(Four years later, Trump would propagate the baseless conspiracy theory that Barack Obama was not a native-born US citizen and therefore had not legitimately won the presidency.)
The article also describes how women working on the production faced discrimination based on whether or not Trump wanted to look at them while they did their jobs:
While leering at a female camera assistant or assessing the physical attributes of a female contestant for whoever is listening, he orders a female camera operator off an elevator on which she is about to film him. “She’s too heavy,” I hear him say.
Another female camera operator, who happens to have blond hair and blue eyes, draws from Trump comparisons to his own Ivanka Trump. “There’s a beautiful woman behind that camera,” he says toward a line of 10 different operators set up in the foyer of Trump Tower one day. “That’s all I want to look at.”
And there's a third anecdote where he pressures a woman producer to break the FCC rules, while being casually misogynistic toward a contestant:
Trump corners a female producer and asks her whom he should fire. She demurs, saying something about how one of the contestants blamed another for their team losing. Trump then raises his hands, cupping them to his chest: “You mean the one with the …?” He doesn’t know the contestant’s name. Trump eventually fires her.
This information is pretty unlikely to persuade anyone who wasn't already persuaded by any of the other things Trump has done and said, which would for anyone else be a career-defining scandal. But it is a useful reminder of who we're dealing with.
(Link is to Slate, an x-number-of-free-articles-a-month site, but the incognito window trick works.)
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REMUS LUPIN | 23:59 ⏤"SHE'S MY WIFE"
SUM. : you bring remus his lunch with your daughter and come face to face with a new, very rude, intern
TAGS. : fluff ; modern au ; muggle au ; ceo remus ; wife reader ; reader is sooooo wifey ; remus is husband material too ; remus is also ceo material! ; daughter oc (emily) ; remus is daddy ; reader is mommy ; rude intern ; dorcas makes an appearance ; we love her
LENGTH : 1.1k
NOT PROOFREAD OR EDITED
“Oh!” you smile at the new, young face you see at the front desk, having walked into the company building not too long ago with Remus’ lunch tucked away in your bag as your daughter marches forward in front of you, “Good noon,” Remus had briefly spoken about a new intern shadowing at the front desk earlier in the morning when you had breakfast together; you suppose that this was her. She looked very much like the part, professionally dressed and neat as a pin, though her level of make up was questionable.
Despite your cheerful and friendly greeting, you were met with silence, suspecting eyes and straight, thin lips that were ever so slightly frowning. It was such an unfamiliar reaction that you were stunned into silence yourself, the tension and lack of a greeting back causing awkwardness to fill the air. You were so used to being received kindly by the usual staff that you didn’t know what to do with yourself when the new worker didn’t reply in kind.
“Well?” she almost snaps, rather rudely. Her eyes weren’t on you but rather on your daughter, Emily, who stared warily up at her and clutched at your long, flowy skirt with unease.
“I-I’m sorry?” you stutter, further stunned by her discourtesy, your hand moving to cup the back of your daughter’s head as she presses her frightened face into your thigh.
“Do you have an appointment or not?” she finally snaps and your brows furrow. The clock displayed on the wall behind her indicated that you were right on time for a shift change between the secretaries, with the former assistants going on lunch break and their succeeding secretaries arriving soon to take their place. Usually the exchange was seamless; you wonder what the issue was today.
“Oh, no, I’m just here to—” she cuts you off with an exaggerated sigh and a roll of her eyes.
“If you don’t have an appointment then why are you here?” her rude tone continues and she keeps cutting you off, “Do you want me to pass on a message? Want me to refer you to an office? Would you like me to make you an appointment? Tell me already, I don’t have all day,” you had been trying to inform her with every question she posed about your visit but she cut you off each time. Considering that she was the new intern, you were willing to excuse her behaviour due to her lack of experience but her candid judgement of you and your daughter made your blood boil.
“You are very rude for someone who’s supposed to be the first representative people interact with when they enter—”
She narrows her eyes dangerously and leans over the counter somewhat, but you stand your ground, “That’s none of your business, my job is none of your business, just answer the question,” at this point, your dear Emily was tugging at your skirt and whining softly for comfort, to which you immediately swooped down to lift her into your warm arms.
“It is my business,” because this is my hardworking husband’s company, you wanted to say but were never one to make such entitled comments.
“How—?!” you cut her off as she had done to you multiple times.
“—and it would do you some good to sort out the poor attitude before it lands you in trouble,”
Just as she opens her mouth to speak again, a familiar face comes into view and moves behind the desk also — it was one of the secretaries who was familiar with your regular visits to the company, Dorcas.
“Good afternoon! Sorry for my tardiness,” Dorcas greets with a cheerful smile as the intern scoffs and rolls her eyes, “Here for the usual visit, I see,” you smile, shoulders easing with relief as Dorcas winks at you before cooing at Emily, “and how are we today, little Emily?” You and Dorcas focus your attention on your daughter, who smiles happily and looks as relieved as you, especially at the sight of Dorcas, a familiar, friendly face. The two converse for a moment, Dorcas asking her how school was and if she’s been well-behaved, whereby Emily responds articulately, demonstrating her smartness and politeness with a few, soft-spoken words. You were proud of her, she’s just like her father, intelligent, sweet and timid but also with a passionate flame burning deep inside that was just waiting to come to fruition.
“This is a regular thing?” the intern speaks up with the same audacious tone of voice, effectively cutting the sweet moment between your daughter and Dorcas short.
“Of course it is,” Dorcas narrows her eyes at the intern, a silent warning for her use of tone, especially in front of Emily.
“Daddy!” Emily suddenly squeals in your arms and all three of you turn to see your smiling husband walking away from the closing elevator. At this, you place Emily down and she goes racing towards her father.
“There’s my little girl!” Remus laughs and takes a knee with his arms spread wide open, ready to catch your daughter in his embrace. Using the momentum from her eager sprint to be in his arms, Remus swings her around playfully before tucking her into his side and on his hip, where he kisses her forehead after swiping away her stray baby hairs with his fingers. Watching the touching exchange, you smile warmly and hug Remus around the waist when he finally makes his way over to pull you close and kiss your temple, “hello, dove,” his voice is like sweet honey and it pulls you even closer to him.
“Good afternoon, darling,” you greet in return, your smile bright and devoid of any bitterness towards the rude intern.
“I thought you two hadn’t arrived yet,” he nods towards the clock behind the front desk, it was well past your usual, punctual visits as you were never one to be tardy, “you’re never this late for lunch, did something happen?” his brows furrowed with worry and you smile at his concern but find it hard to form the words. Instead, you simply refocus your attention and meet the eyes of the new intern behind the desk once more. She had become considerably pale, looking white as a ghost.
“Sh-she’s—” the intern stutters as Remus’ eyes harden on her.
“She’s my wife,” his voice didn’t waver at the declaration and he pulls you closer to emphasise your standing, “is there a problem?” there was considerable threat behind his words and the intern was left speechless but also fearful, “because there better not be,” you wanted to speak up throughout the entire exchange but there was nothing for you to say, if she didn’t get her attitude sorted after this confrontation, you wouldn’t dare think about where her life’s trajectory will point to.
“Let’s go have lunch, darling,” you finally speak up, which, thankfully, Remus relents to.
A few days after the exchange, the intern supposedly dropped out of the internship program. Not by her volition however.
A/N : i haven't written for remus in a while so excuse the rustiness. hopefully, you darlings can agree with me on the fact that remus x ceo au is a great combination, right?
NAVI.
TAGLIST : @aastonishment ; @until-i-found-you ; @never-fair ; @celestcies ; @inlovewithremusjohnlupin ; @calums-betch ; @futurecorps3 ; @simpingforthe80s ; @yrluvjane ; @chaosofmanyfandoms ; @storyofaromance ; @loving-and-dreaming ; @somewereinthegalaxi ; @bobs-fav-cat ; @cassandra-nerezza-black ; @stray-bi-kids ; @ttkttt ; @notasadgirlipromise ; @rosalyn-s
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tell your loved ones
-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 12:01 --
TG: hey im on the john
JOHN: hey, dave is taking a dump.
TG: taking a shit just so were clear
JADE: jeez!!!!!!! even when im not online i have to hear about it
TG: i know you care so youre first to know
JOHN: i'm just giving you a heads up for the bajillion messages you will definitely have about this when you get home.
EB: god, thank you. that is awesome. dave fans everywhere are gonna go NUTS for this truth nugget.
EB: hey, i am at the store with jade!
TG: tell her the news
EB: i did as soon as you first pinged me, don't worry.
TG: hell yeah see you just fucking get it
JADE: well tell him i say congrats!
EB: she says congrats.
EB: also that you left your "yeah! woo!" machine at her place.
EB: and that you are gross and smell like a dog took a dump on a fart even when you aren't crapping during our conversations.
TG: goddamn
EB: jk that last bit was me heheh. but she nodded!
EB: so anyways, a yeah woo machine?
EB: what the hell even IS that?
JADE: its more or less a machine that yeahs and woos
TG: its basically a machine that yeahs and woos
EB: ok, yeah, that is pretty much exactly what jade said too. apparently this is supposed to be obvious.
JADE: its pretty self explanatory!
TG: pretty self explanatory stuff
TG: anyways im gonna tell karkat this time i think im ready for that
EB: oh shit (LOL), that's a pretty big deal, right? good luck dude.
--
-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG] at 12:03 --
TG: ok karkat can i be unbelievably candid with you is dj crabapple ready for this
TG: this is a really big deal for me but like no pressure
CG: SHIT, IS EVERYTHING OK?
CG: DO I NEED TO COME OVER THERE.
TG: no no its good i just really need to confess something
CG: WHATEVER IT IS, TELL ME. I'M HERE.
TG: alright
TG: deep breath strider
--
TG: im dropping mad logs like bars in the ablution block vantas
TG: shit is on fire
TG: downright heretical like a shat outta hell
TG: and since im feeling penitent i figure our pesterlogs are pretty much akin to a confessional booth right
CG:
--
-- tentacleTherapist [TT] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 12:04 --
TT: Hey Dave.
TT: Are you, by any chance, taking a shit right now?
TG: damn word spreads fast on the information superhighway
TT: Yes, I have had the news forwarded to me via this bountiful virtual dimension of knowledge and culture we call the World Wide Web by a fellow enthusiast, one ectoBiologist.
TT: Frankly I'm heartbroken you didn't come to me about it first.
TT: Please, divulge to your loving sister the nature of your bowel movements, in exhaustive detail. Highlights in a notarized list, an overall ranking grade of your experience, whether you would recommend it to your friends, et cetera. These would be among my most pertinent avenues of inquiry.
TG: you were next on the mailing list rose im already on it
TG: boutta weave a verbal tapestry no holds barred just for you about my rambunctious foray down in brown town
TG: stay tubed
TT: Thank god. I don't know what I would do if I couldn't peruse your commodal follies like the morning gazette.
TG: dont act like this has educational value rose
TG: we all know my daily bullshit has got a laugh track
TG: like damn what kind of gazettes are you getting
TT: The best kind, Dave. Only the best kind.
TG: thanks for the vote of confidence
TG: wait gimme a sec karkat pinged
TT: Of course. I understand it's quite a big deal for you.
--
CG: OK.
CG: SINCE THIS APPARENTLY SKIRTS THE FRESHEST BUDS OF OUR BRO-DOM'S BURGEONING FROND NUB, I *ALSO* HAVE SOMETHING IMPORTANT TO SHARE.
CG: I HOPE YOUR REFLECTIVE ABLUTION VAULT IS STOCKED WITH FUCKING RUMBLESPHERE TRANQUILIZERS, BECAUSE THIS EXCHANGE IS ABOUT TO GET SHITHIVE MAGGOTS.
CG: LISTEN CAREFULLY.
TG: whats up
--
CG: I AM ALSO ON THE LOAD GAPER RIGHT NOW.
TG: oh shiiit
CG: DON'T UNCLENCH YOUR EXPLOSIVE FUCKING SEED FLAP JUST YET, BECAUSE THERE'S *MORE*!
CG: I AM *ALSO* TAKING A CRAP.
TG: oh shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit
CG: OH SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT
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Help! I'm a Perfect Genius, but This Potential Employer Asked Me a Boring Interview Question!
Ask A Manager, 13 Feb 2024:
I was rejected from a role for not answering an interview question. I had all the skills they asked for, and the recruiter and hiring manager loved me.
I had a final round of interviews — a peer on the hiring team, a peer from another team that I would work closely with, the director of both teams (so my would-be grandboss, which I thought was weird), and then finally a technical test with the hiring manager I had already spoken to.
(I don’t know if it matters but I’m male and everyone I interviewed with was female.)
The interviews went great, except the grandboss. I asked why she was interviewing me since it was a technical position and she was clearly some kind of middle manager. She told me she had a technical background (although she had been in management 10 years so it’s not like her experience was even relevant), but that she was interviewing for things like communication, ability to prioritize, and soft skills. I still thought it was weird to interview with my boss’s boss.
She asked pretty standard (and boring) questions, which I aced. But then she asked me to tell her about the biggest mistake I’ve made in my career and how I handled it. I told her I’m a professional and I don’t make mistakes, and she argued with me! She said everyone makes mistakes, but what matters is how you handle them and prevent the same mistake from happening in the future. I told her maybe she made mistakes as a developer but since I actually went to school for it, I didn’t have that problem. She seemed fine with it and we moved on with the interview.
A couple days later, the recruiter emailed me to say they had decided to go with someone else. I asked for feedback on why I wasn’t chosen and she said there were other candidates who were stronger.
I wrote back and asked if the grandboss had been the reason I didn’t get the job, and she just told me again that the hiring panel made the decision to hire someone else.
I looked the grandboss up on LinkedIn after the rejection and she was a developer at two industry leaders and then an executive at a third. She was also connected to a number of well-known C-level people in our city and industry. I’m thinking of mailing her on LinkedIn to explain why her question was wrong and asking if she’ll consider me for future positions at her company but my wife says it’s a bad idea.
What do you think about me mailing her to try to explain?
Sir,
You have been wronged in the most grievous of ways by a coven of retaliatory, self-aggrandizing women who have failed in the extreme to recognize your brilliance, your talent, and above all, your general superiority.
Of course you should mail this mediocre "grandboss" on LinkedIn to inform her of the deep offense she caused you by interviewing you in the first place, let alone doing so using a boring question — indeed, you have a moral and professional obligation to do so in order to preserve your honor and the honor of scores of men like you who have never done a single solitary thing wrong in their lives, ever.
But I beg you to consider doing more. A single, private message to one incompetent bitch may not convey to the necessary parties the depth and breadth of the situation. Many, many people have important lessons to learn from your experience, and I encourage you to share it widely. Consider making a public LinkedIn post, and ensure that it is shareable across platforms. Depending on your financial resources, a billboard with your name, professional headshot, and contact information could go a long way toward ensuring that everyone in your industry who needs to know just how you handled the way these women treated you, does know about it.
I hope that in your continuing job search, you are able to connect with potential employers who have a much better grasp of all you bring to the table.
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