I am standing in the St. Regis hotel lobby and while it is not a particularly hot evening I am sweating profusely. I hate sweating before a job. I casually lift my arm and observe a puddle growing on my ill-fitting boxy dress shirt. I was told to look sharp and tidy, so I threw on some office clothes I’ve had since I sat behind a desk four years ago. They were ugly and outdated even then, but I put them on anyway and now I feel awkward.
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