“So I grabbed a handful of money from one of the drawers. ‘Hey, what the hell are you doing?’ someone said. ‘Oh, my bad’ I said, putting the money back. ‘I’m new.’ Then everyone was happy again.”
“Seriously?” He asked.
“Yeah, seriously.”
“Cause it sounds like bullshit,” he said suspiciously.
“I did some more tests over the next few days. As far as I can tell, everywhere I go, everyone thinks I’m supposed to be there.”
“Yup,” he said. “Definitely smelling the bullshit now.”
“But it’s not a free ride. People think I’m supposed to be there, but I can only get away with doing things they expect. I stole some drugs from a pharmacy, just to see if I could. I walked right behind the counter, got an empty pill container, and filled it with Valium. The pharmacists didn’t give me a second look. People who are supposed to be there are expected to fill pill bottles. But people at a bank are not expected to grab handfuls of cash. See?”
“See? No. Smell? Yes.”
“I figure I could work for you.”
“See what I did there?” He pointed out, “I was talking about smelling the bullshit.”
“I need money. Give me a job with a good salary. I’ll spy for you.”
“On who?”
“Whoever you want! I’m sure you’ve got all kinds of people you’d like to spy on. I could just go wherever they are and sit quietly. Maybe take notes. Whatever you want.”
He sighed. “If your delusion really were true, then yes, I could use someone like you,” he agreed. “But come on. You expect me to believe you can waltz in to high security areas, past countless guards? And that you can chat with people there and they won’t know anything’s wrong? Can you provide any proof? Anything at all?”
She leaned forward. “I don’t know, Mr. President. You tell me.”