“Alarm off,” Joey muttered as he rolled onto his side.Twenty minutes later, Joey suddenly snapped his eyes open and gasped, “Shit. Computer. Wha... time is it?”“The time is oh six hours, forty-eight minutes,” the female voice instantly replied.“I still have twelve minutes then,” Joey said with relief, and then proceeded to stretch.After letting out a whoop of a yawn, Joey bounced out of his bed and went straight into the sonic shower in the attached bathroom.Once he had finished the basics and. The last part of the interview was taking what was called a Myers-Briggs Type Indicator. The test was scored immediately and I was told I was ‘INTJ’, and given a document to describe that personality type.As I went out into the hallway, I scanned the document and started laughing. One of the traits was ‘Personal relationships, particularly romantic ones, can be the INTJ’s Achilles heel’. Truer words had NEVER been spoken about me. Another one stood out - ‘they are most comfortable working alone. The ammo supply technician, a greasy, dangerous looking type of about nineteen or so, walked over to her. He was shirtless, his skin shimmering with sweat in the early morning light, his gang tattoos (he had honorably retired from The Dust Devils of 44th Avenue) showing prominently."Hey there," he said as he unabashedly looked Xenia up and down. "You are one sweet looking piece of ass, darling," he told her.Xenia smiled at him. There had been a time when she would have been deathly afraid of. I didn't either.Mostly though what I had heard was the clack clack of my heels on theempty streets, reminding me as if I needed reminding, that I was dressedas a woman.After what seemed like an eternity, (the walk had become a journey whichhad never seemed as long before,) I finally got there. There were lightson but the doors were shut. It wasn't opening time yet. I rang on thebell.Kate, the bar's Madame, came to the door."What do you want?" I heard you were hiring." We're always looking.