Interview With a Snobby Cow

Well, I was hoping Jay would visit, but he isn’t speaking to me. I think it may have something to do with how Book 2 ends…

Anyway, just to be spiteful, he accepted my invitation for this interview, but now apparently his is sending Katie in his place instead.


If there is one thing I can’t stand, it’s a stuck up snob. I don’t even know what he is doing with someone like her. I asked him once and honestly, any respect I held for Jay drastically diminished when I heard his answer. Apparently, Katie is great in bed. That’s it? His whole reason? Wow, Jay. Just wow.

I look around my little house and know it won’t be up to Miss Snobby Pant’s standards, but what can I do? I’m a struggling author and I only work part time at my ‘real’ job. Katie’s home is pristine. It’s all white and sparkly, and luxury drips off every wall.

It’s a strange feeling to be nervous of having her here. I’m not used to worrying about what people think. I mean, look at me- here I am, transcribing a completely imaginary conversation as if it happened, and talking about Katie’s house as if I’ve visited. Anyway… I digress…

The weather is pleasant, so perhaps we can sit in the garden? I peer out of my window at the overgrown lawn and the children’s toys littering the patio. Maybe not. That wouldn’t be up to Miss Prissy’s standards at all, would it?

I settle for my dining room. It’s black and white and sort of cold in here. It matches her personality perfectly. Besides, she doesn’t deserve to sit on my comfortable sofa. I reserve my favourite room for imaginary people I actually like.

“Hello Ms Reverie.” Her demure voice and pleasant smile are deceptive. She honestly looks sweet and innocent, and not at all like the viper I know she is.

“Katie!” I greet her with a wide, fake smile and an equally disingenuous tone. “Thanks for coming.”

She looks me up and down, as if trying to work out how much my clothing cost. “Thank you for having me.” She flicks her long blonde hair and I can see by the look on her face that she believes she is better than me.

I gesture for her to take a seat and then bite my tongue as she wipes the surface of the chair before she deposits her behind on it. How rude! It’s not even dusty!

“Your home is…” she pauses and takes a scrutinising look at my walls. “Endearing,” she chokes out the last word. “It’s very cosy in here.”

Now, I’m no estate agent, but even I know that’s code for weird and small. I inwardly roll my eyes and try to keep the smile on my face. Pfft whatever. Katie just loves to push people’s buttons. Personally, I think she has nothing worthwhile going on in her own life, so she gets a kick out of making other people feel small.

I decide to move along and not show any offence. “So…” I smile up at her. “The purpose of this little meeting is for you to introduce yourself to our readers and let them learn a little more about you.” I pause for a moment. Katie is a stuck-up, snobby, little bitch who has her claws into Jay. What else do people need to know? “Why don’t you tell us a little about yourself?”

Her smile widens and I have to resist the urge to roll my eyes. Of course she enjoys talking about herself! She clears her throat with a small ‘a-hem.’ “My name is Katie Stroud. I come from a good, legitimate family. My father is a governor for Harpton Main and we live in one of the most elite districts in the city. I am well educated, though I don’t know why my father bothered putting me through school, since I don’t need to work. My family have enough money that none of us really need to work.”

“Hobbies? Interests?” I ask dismissively. I honestly couldn’t give a flying kipper what interests this girl.

“I’m a dancer. And I like to shop. And the Helston social scene is always good when I’m stressed and need cheering up.”

I offer a nod and a smile. What does she even know about stress? She has literally NOTHING to worry about. Okay, I know I need to show a little more interest. It’s not her fault she’s as dull as a doorpost.

“Can you tell me more about your personal life? People know about you and Jay. Can you tell me more about that?”

“Jay?” Her mouth turns down a fraction. “He’s my boyfriend.”

I raise my eyebrows, expecting more, but no more comes. “And what does Jay do?” I prompt.

Katie shrugs her shoulders. “He manages some warehouse in the city,” she says evasively. I guess if it’s not about her, then she isn’t interested in talking…

“Okay…” I smile sweetly, already knowing the answer to my next question., “And will we be hearing bells chime anytime soon?”

She looks at me blankly and I realise my mistake. Weddings are not a religious ceremony in Harpton Main. They rarely take place in a church, since very few churches actually exist anymore. They are purely an official, legal formality. “Will you be getting married?” I ask, straight faced.

She looks at me like I’m stupid. “I doubt it.” There is a slight look of distaste on her face as she answers. Then her features soften a little, and she has the sense to look content with what she has with Jay. “Jay and I are just having fun,” she purrs. In reality, I’m sure she is having heart palpitations at the idea of marrying a man who earns well below what she considers to be a decent income.  

I decide to play along a little. I wonder if she’ll spill her reasons for being with Jay. “But you’re rich, young, and very attractive. You could have fun with anybody. I hope you don’t mind me saying so, but Jay seems a little beneath you.”

A wry smile parts her lips and she leans forward conspiratorially. “Sometimes I get so fed up of being perfect. My parents expect the world of me. For once, it’s just refreshing to be a disappointment. My dad lost his mind when I told him I was dating a man from Helstain in his forties!” she throws her head back and cackles. “Daddy is always choosing my boyfriends.” She rolls her eyes. “He uses me as a way to remain at the top of his social circle and I am sick of it! He can’t use me if I’m dating a deadbeat. He’s ashamed of me. My whole family is.” She snickers. “And I love it.”

If I’m honest, I’m feeling a little sick. My first thought is how Jay deserves better than that. But then I remember how he is only with her because being with a woman half his age, who is great in bed, is an ego boost for him, so I guess they deserve each other.

“But you guys do enjoy each other’s company, though?” I ask.

She shrugs her shoulders. “I guess. When he actually takes me out to places and doesn’t make me associate with any of his weirdo friends. Did you know that he lives with a casher? Not just any casher, but some ex sex worker he dragged in off the streets! I can’t stand her, but Jay won’t kick her out, so I have to see her every time I visit.”

“Erm… yeah, we’ve met.”

“She’s weird isn’t she?”

I only smile. Poor Katie… you have no idea exactly how weird that girl is…

I feel like I need to wrap this up. Out of all the character interviews I’ve conducted, this was the one I was dreading the most, so why do I feel like it has gone better than any of the others so far?

“Thank you for coming. I’m sure our readers will be interested to learn more about you, Katie.”

Her face falls. “Is that it?”

“Uh, yeah. Were you expecting more?”

“But I haven’t told you anything about myself! Don’t you want to know more about my dancing, my friends, where I go and what I do for fun? Don’t you want to know what I enjoy spending all my money on? You didn’t even ask about my favourite clubs or restaurants! I’ve told everyone I’m being interviewed! I need to at least name-drop a few important people in my social circle!”

I blink slowly. Who does she think I am? “I think you may have misunderstood how many people will read this interview, Katie. And it’s only being published in my world, not yours. Nobody in your social circle will even see it.”

“So this was a giant waste of my time?” she snaps. Her arms fold across her chest and she stares daggers at me. Ah yes, here is the Katie I am used to.

She stands and grabs her expensive looking handbag. “I’m going to kill Jay,” she mutters, as she stomps off.

If I’m honest, I’m pleased that’s over.

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