Emmett stared at the woman sitting across from him. They were both sitting in metal folding chairs, and she wasn't behind a desk-something about removing the professional barrier that some people fear so that she's more approachable or something. He hadn't heard anything about it in a while, but Emmett was pretty sure the whole thing was nonsense. "Emmett."
The woman was pretty enough, and her voice would-under normal circumstances-been pleasant enough. But sitting there, judging him, Emmett couldn't stand the suited woman. Her voice was nails on a chalkboard to his ears, and her whole appearance was repulsive to him. She sat there primly, perfectly
her whole body language screamed 'I'm judging you, and I'm heavily biased.' Hadn't he gotten enough of that in his life already?
"Do you know why you're here?"
"The paranoid register girl took offense to my taking offense to her," he replied honestly. The woman, almost imperceptibly narrowed her eyes. There's the bias, he could see it.