The redheaded woman has been glancing at you furtively for fifteen minutes. You're starting to wonder if she thinks you're going to steal something---like her stapler or PDA.

Ever since you received the calls---the first from your old law school friend, Sam Seaborne, and the second from Leo McGarry, the White House Chief of Staff---to come in for an interview as the new Media Consultant, you've been a bundle of nerves. Mandy Hampton would be a tough act to follow. You told Sam that when you called him again; in response, he told you that you were insane.

You told him that wasn't out of the realm of possibility.

When the phone rings---scaring you senseless---Margaret answers it and speaks in muted tones. You're not really listening; but you are nibbling on the skin around your left thumbnail and trying not to fidget.

"Miss Boudreau?"

You look up sharply. Margaret is looking at you with both of her eyebrows raised. You clear your throat. "Yes?"

"Leo's running late," she says demurely. "Do you mind wait---"

You start to say: "I can reschedule---"

"Oh, no. We don't do that," Margaret interupts. "Schedules really get off track when we reschedule."

"Yes, but I don't mind---"

"He will just be a few more minutes," she assures you.

You smile a bit. "Alright. I'll stay."

"Good," she chirps, before returning to her work.

Thirty minutes later, though, you're still sitting in that appointment chair---and Margaret's still glancing at you while she types.

Do you offer to reschedule again?
Do you stay where you are?