the interviewee on the interviewer

A bit stiff. That’s how she seemed when she arrived. A bit stiff. And quite forward. She stepped into the hallway and I thought, Well that’s pushy. Friendly and informal, but sort of awkward as well. Yes, an awkwardness. Like she wasn’t in full control of the whole thing. I mean, you’d think. wouldn’t you, that a journalist like that would know what they were doing. But she was edgy. Sort of like she was trying to be polite but it was, like, forced. D’you know what I mean? Like she was following the rules but didn’t actually want to. And she kept playing with her hair. That was another thing. More of a flick in fact. Sloaney, I guess. And she was quite posh. What you’d expect really. But I was surprised that she swore so much, later on, when we’d loosened up, she swore a lot. That took me back. Yes, definitely. You don’t expect people like that to use the F-word. Not in an interview. But she used it like I might use the word like. Like a lot. Like really a lot. Nerves maybe? I guess it probably was. But I’d expected her to be kind of… in command. Which was another thing. I made her a coffee and I could tell, when she was asking me questions, that she didn’t know when to drink it. Like the way you get really self-conscious about stuff when you’re with a stranger. D’you follow? Yeah, so it’s kind of hard to sum her up. But someone should try. One of the others maybe.