"If we wanna get out of here? Then fuck yeah. That's exactly what I need to be doing." Santana really didn't get what America's deal was with the job thing. First of all, this place was fucking boring. There wasn't enough to do in between attacks from hell and the occasional not-that-shitty event to occupy one's time, so why wouldn't you get a job to just find a way to kill the motonony? Hell, that's what eventually wore her down.
Plus, most of the jobs in that place really did do stuff to help them get out, so it was kind of worth it. Sure, she wanted to push Leslie into the sewers, but she had to admit that the woman did a really good job of rallying people and getting shit done. They needed more stuff like that. Fuck knew she wasn't leading the charge herself, but if she could help somewhat? Why not.
"But, hey - if you want to be wandering around chopping monsters into pieces while the rest of us clear the hell out? So be it. Hope the boredom doesn't kill you before the town does." She shrugged, smile fake and the very definition of bitchy.
Santana rolled her eyes. Please. This again? Like everybody couldn't see just how hot she was. "Um, have you seen me? I'm really fucking hot. Plus, I take no shit, and am awesome at getting stuff done. I'm a motherfucking catch, and you know it."