I just came back from a lunch with the executives at my consulting company. It went well I guess, but it’s something I hate having to do. You sit around a table and everyone forces themselves to talk. Conversational topics mostly revolve around the Patriots, the Red Sox and what someone’s kid said in the car the other day. These are topics that I have no knowledge of and don’t find particularly interesting – so all I can do is sit there and nod my head, feigning interest. It is torture.
I did, however, try to get in on the conversation today. One of the annoying guys who works in the World Trade Center with me was going on and on about some stupid car that he wants to sell. He asked me if I was interested in buying it. I said no and that I was getting along fine without a car. The big shot VP (who seems like a misogynist prick) was all like “No cah?! How can you have no cah!” After taking a big sip of my iced tea, I suppressed any thought of stabbing this guy with my butter knife and forged ahead, trying to appear calm and sophisticated so I could speak to this retard in a clear manner.
“Well, I live in the city, so there really isn’t a need for the expense. I like to walk a lot and I use public transportation. Not only that, I’m a member of this car share service called ZipCar.”
“Zipcah?! Oh yeah, I’ve seen some of does around town. Pretty nifty.” He said this as he elbowed his partner in the ribs in a joking fashion. This is the second time that he has done such a thing (and I’ve had lunch with him twice.) Every time I open my mouth to say something, it’s just so damn funny. It’s annoying and very unprofessional and Jesus, wouldn’t I love to beat him over the head with my handbag. If it wasn’t for the fact that I need this job, I would have done it by now.
What made the lunch even worse is the fact that I am completely hung-over today. This is the result of yet another evening of magnum-wine-bottle-drinking with Skaht. We did our usual thing of YouTube watching, although this time I ended up in a sailor themed bra and hat, not sure why…I just did.
As a general rule, I think that I need to cut off the alcohol when I start feeling the need to raid my burlesque costume stash on a weeknight. Weekends are okay. Weeknights are not.
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