“Sorry I have been unreachable for a few weeks. I had some,” she leaned in conspiratorially, “elective facial surgery… if you catch my drift.” She winked at me. Sort of.
(What do I say? What do I say? What do I say??!!?!!??)
“Hey, that looks great! Way to use your worker’s comp time off for your ankle sprain…”
That was the third job I turned down.