On Drinking Gin and Tonics with Old Men and Other Sordid Tales from the World of the Sell Out
So tonight signalled my first foray into the wonderful world of the shmooze party, or as I like to call it "Ass Kissing Fest '05." I donned my best black pants, a pair of heels, some big ole earrings and my sparkliest lip gloss and headed off to the trenches, unsure of what to expect from my first party with my new job. Here's what I learned:
1. Business/community parties like these are a great place for old men to buy young girls drinks. And if you're the youngest girl in the room by about 25 or so years, you can drink free, and honey, you can drink well. You can drink them under the goddamn table if you want, because even if you're under there passed out, if your glass is empty and one of the dudes sees it, you're getting another drink.
2. But don't feel bad, young girl, because everyone else is drunk too. Here's how I figure it. The drunker you are: the more ass you can kiss (or are willing to kiss): the better employee/board member/councilwoman you are.
3. People love business cards. In fact, by the end of the night, the only words some people could manage was "Do you have my card?"
4. When getting picture made for the Town Talk section of the newspaper, put down your G&T first. It's not like I managed to do that or anything, but you know, for next time.
5. Despite all the festivities, there will be one person who wants to talk shop when you're standing on the sidewalk, trying to dial 411 on your phone to get a cab. Just nod a lot, and get her to come in to the office for a sit down tomorrow. At least I hope that's what I should have done. I guess I'll find out tomorrow if I'm not threatening death upon all the old men who bought me drinks because of my evil, evil hangover.
So it was a good time, if a bit uncomfortable at times. But, all jokes aside, I couldn't help thinking the whole time I was there that College Morgan would not really like Post-Grad Morgan with her $50 haircut and her 3 inch heels and her annoying fake laugh that cannot possibly convince anyone but drunk old men that something is remotely funny. It was weird. Moreover, it was the first time that I've ever really really felt like a grown up. Funny that it happened when no one around me was really acting like a grown up. I just kept thinking, "I should be home right now, eating Chinese out of a box, not eating seafood linguine with some dude who's trying to sell me life insurance and keep my wine glass filled."
And then I came home and Matt was all excited about some French novel he's reading and he told me about it, and I felt like I was around someone sane for the first time all night, and it made me feel good. I didn't understand a word he said about the book--I just know that it made me feel good. Like I was Morgan again--not Assistant Director Morgan, but Queen Morgan of Crap TV and Good Book fame.
I should go. I should really post more often to this thing...I feel a bit better (and a bit more sober) just typing this.
1. Business/community parties like these are a great place for old men to buy young girls drinks. And if you're the youngest girl in the room by about 25 or so years, you can drink free, and honey, you can drink well. You can drink them under the goddamn table if you want, because even if you're under there passed out, if your glass is empty and one of the dudes sees it, you're getting another drink.
2. But don't feel bad, young girl, because everyone else is drunk too. Here's how I figure it. The drunker you are: the more ass you can kiss (or are willing to kiss): the better employee/board member/councilwoman you are.
3. People love business cards. In fact, by the end of the night, the only words some people could manage was "Do you have my card?"
4. When getting picture made for the Town Talk section of the newspaper, put down your G&T first. It's not like I managed to do that or anything, but you know, for next time.
5. Despite all the festivities, there will be one person who wants to talk shop when you're standing on the sidewalk, trying to dial 411 on your phone to get a cab. Just nod a lot, and get her to come in to the office for a sit down tomorrow. At least I hope that's what I should have done. I guess I'll find out tomorrow if I'm not threatening death upon all the old men who bought me drinks because of my evil, evil hangover.
So it was a good time, if a bit uncomfortable at times. But, all jokes aside, I couldn't help thinking the whole time I was there that College Morgan would not really like Post-Grad Morgan with her $50 haircut and her 3 inch heels and her annoying fake laugh that cannot possibly convince anyone but drunk old men that something is remotely funny. It was weird. Moreover, it was the first time that I've ever really really felt like a grown up. Funny that it happened when no one around me was really acting like a grown up. I just kept thinking, "I should be home right now, eating Chinese out of a box, not eating seafood linguine with some dude who's trying to sell me life insurance and keep my wine glass filled."
And then I came home and Matt was all excited about some French novel he's reading and he told me about it, and I felt like I was around someone sane for the first time all night, and it made me feel good. I didn't understand a word he said about the book--I just know that it made me feel good. Like I was Morgan again--not Assistant Director Morgan, but Queen Morgan of Crap TV and Good Book fame.
I should go. I should really post more often to this thing...I feel a bit better (and a bit more sober) just typing this.
posted by Southern Belle at 2:22 AM
2 Comments:
Hey dude!
It is funny that you just posted because I have spent the past hour on the internet looking at pictures of david bowie (lame i know). what song was it that you got married to?
anyway
slan and congrats on the free g&t's
kathleen
ps - we all miss you
We played Heroes at the end instead of the wedding march-walking out song. It was cool, especially in the Wren, because it was ironic and kind of odd.
I miss you greatly. I had a friend at the cafe that I called Kathleen Lite, because she reminded me of you, but now that I've got this new job, I get to fraternize with old cranky men and not cool girls. Sad.
Miss you,
Morgan
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