It's all in the connections. It's who you know.
The wife of one of the undersecretaries was at the networking event tonight. Specifically, her husband is the honcho for the division where my old office resides. It was a great struggle to not tell her about the "axe issue" and just let her know my thoughts on what a giant gaping a-hole my old office director is. But, I didn't. I was a good kid, even if I didn't want to play nice.
I was massively out of place at this event. I was one of only two people not dressed in a navy blue or black suit (lots of pinstripes - yeesh.) I immediately felt this was the wrong event for me. There were tables for people interested in legal careers, a government table (no thanks), and a table for women interested in accounting and such. Ugh. I called the Sasquatch and told him what a goat rope this had turned out to be. As I was quietly speaking to him on my cellphone in lobby outside this small gathering, two young, smartly dressed women took a peek at me from the conference room - one of them pointed at me and the other made a pig snout gesture. I was blown away.
There's a special place in hell for idiots like that.
At that point, I had decided to leave. But, then I realized, I wanted my $20 worth out of this crap. I stood in line for half an hour to have my resume analyzed. Two women from the Elliott School of International Studies were providing in-depth commentary and advice to job seekers, with a red pen in hand. When I got up to them, though, they told me my resume was the best looking one they'd seen all night. This is thanks to the Sasquatch, and his tremendous design talent (thanks, Mr. Squatch.) I asked if a functional resume would work better for me, but they really seemed to like what I already had. Now, if it would only get me an actual job. Also, they told me I should have followed up with e-mail questions to each of the people with whom I interviewed at the last job. Apparently, that's becoming de rigeur now in DC. I still think it's crap, but that's just me.
When I stopped to pick up a can of diet Pepsi for the road home, I saw pointy and pig snout again, staring at me and smirking. I smiled and gave them the finger as I pushed my glasses up my nose. One of them turned tail immediately and took her friend with her. Losers. I could clearly see how these two were in junior high because they hadn't changed a bit. Loo-sers.
Stuff like that reminds me of "Fried Green Tomatoes" when the two obnoxious young chicks steal the parking space from Kathy Bates' character, Evelyn:
Evelyn: Hey! I was waiting for that spot!
Girl 1: Face it lady, we're younger and faster!
[Evelyn rear-ends the other car six times.]
Girl 1: What are you DOING?
Girl 2: Are you CRAZY?
Evelyn: Face it, I'm older and I have more insurance.
I left and drove back to Maryland. En route home, I recalled a conversation with I'd had with the Atomic Editor last night, about the dearth of foods that are truly kosher for Passover. AE and his spouse had just returned to their Midwestern Batcave after a down home southern Passover in Georgia. Rather cruelly, I, the lapsed Catholic, taunted him with the thought of an utterly unkosher, but delicious meal at a pancake house, complete with tasty pork products.
Faced with the possibility of opening a can of soup at home for dinner (no cooking around mousies, thanks), I drove up the Pike to IHOP (aka the Prison IHOP - that requires it's own story, and the Sasquatch would tell it well) and supped there, in a virtually empty restaurant. My server's name, by the way, was Danish. Pronounced exactly as you would imagine. He himself was not Danish. More like Sub-continentalish. I admit I wondered if the other section was being served by Cruller, or, perhaps, Bear Claw.
But, I digress...
So, Mr. Atomic Editor, in your honor, Shiksa Girl here had a Rooty Tooty Fresh 'n' Fruity meal: two eggs over easy, two links of pork sausage, two strips of bacon (holy crap, was that tasty!), and two buttermilk pancakes, covered in strawberries. Oh, and a glass of milk. Wish you could have been there. ;-)
And then I ran for the car to take my drugs to counteract the carbohydrate-laden pancakes.
But, damn, it sure beat Campbell's low-sodium broccoli and cheese soup to hell and gone.
And now, to bed.
(Hey, where's my Coz photo?!?)
Damn, you're a speedy one, Mr. Editor Sir!
I was still editing the entry to correct the spelling of "de rigeur" and wham, there you are!
Still looking for the Coz shot. I *did* find the horrific photo of the Ray Romano lookalike and the hairless alien pouring a pitcher of milk over some woman's head, but that ain't the same thing.
I shall be utterly destroyed if I cannot find Cosby Cat. :-( And the heavens shall weep!
I think you just like saying "Rooty Tooty Fresh-n-Fruity" to guys named after breakfast pastry.
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