"Like, I said, I'm new in town, and I need work!"

"If you want to make a new policy that only U.S. dollars will be accepted for tax payments, I could be the person who sits behind the desk when they come to city hall to complain about it, and then I could do nothing!"

"But also maybe you have some other job in mind? Because that one didn't really sound like things not being organized, so much?"

"Oh, wow, a job.  You were new in town and asked if there was work, and somebody told you the mayor might have a job for you.  That makes so much sense, from your viewpoint.  I have been mayor for way too long if that has stopped being my first thought about why a normal person would ask that.  US dollars are always tight around here, but I've got enough to pay you a secretary-level salary while I figure out how to move a suitcase full of Benadryl."

"I won't totally say that you can come in, because, you know, but if you can just come into the residence, you know, uh, that might be in your own interests. Definitely not asking you for any favors."  He steps aside from the door to make way.

"How long have you been mayor, exactly?"

Emily does not actually understand any of the mayor's waffling about whether coming in the door is, like, an is, or maybe an ought? But his body language is clear, so she steps inside.

"Since July 20th... I'm not actually sure what day it is for me now.  There's like three different ladies in town who paid their taxes by saying 'have a nice day' at me, and when I was like 'what' they were like 'time is money'."  He starts to turn toward a flight of stairs, then stops and looks back at her.  "What all can you do, exactly?"

"Oh, I'm good at lots of things. I can drive a car, change a lightbulb, assemble flat-pack furniture, calculate the tip on a check, use apps on a phone... also I can collaborate with peers and navigate social norms!"