Part 6 (2/2)
”But, but,” Courtney begins to protest.
”Believe me, W-H is going to be thrilled to spend so much less. If you need to save face to maintain the relations.h.i.+p, tell them we've done away with a per-user cost. Yes, it's a lie, but it's a $63,000 lie in their favor, so it's OK.”
”They already said yes! They agreed to the price-they think it's a fair deal!”
”We both know it isn't.”
”But...”
I blame Courtney's newly amorphous ethics on her relations.h.i.+p with Chad. Back in the Brad-days,39 she would have never pulled something like this. ”Enough with the buts. This is my decision, it's the right thing to do, and I don't care if you don't like it.”
”Kathleen already signed off on the deal. She was really pleased about it and congratulated me for thinking outside the box.” Courtney is clearly conflicted.
Ugh, Kathleen again. Kathleen took over the Chicago office a few months ago when Will was fired. (The dumb a.s.s left his resume in the copy machine, and someone put it on the conference table the day all the VPs were here.40) Although she was from the Chicago office, I didn't know her very well. She worked for a different division of Corp. Com. and went on an extended maternity leave shortly after I joined the company. A few times last fall I noticed her napping in her office, but I a.s.sumed it was a side effect of a difficult pregnancy.
When she came on board a few months back, I was not disappointed. She was smart, creative, and unlike Will, not allergic to success. Finally, the AEs had a proven leader!
Right out of the gate, she was fantastic...totally strategic and motivated. Every Monday in our staff meeting, she had the most revolutionary thoughts about driving sales. She was so sharp I regretted privately questioning the company's decision to hire a new mother; she blew every unflattering stereotype out of the water.
Naturally the salad days never last.
Not long into her tenure, she started going out with some of the account executives after work, getting sloppy drunk and pouring her heart out about the intimate details of her marital problems.
And then she started grad school.
Our once worthwhile staff meetings became a chance for her to trot out textbook management theories and ridiculous buzzwords. Suddenly, I had to rearrange my plans on a moment's notice because Kathleen needed to discuss ”paradigm s.h.i.+fts” and ”synergistic methodologies” with us as a group. After having to cancel my third appointment in a week, I finally figured out the problem. Kathleen was using our team to do her homework a.s.signments. Her statistics projects took precedence over sales forecasts, and her unpredictable emotional outbursts put everyone on edge. Uncomfortable! Then due to nanny issues, she started arriving late and leaving early.
Now, when I sit down with her, I get the distinct impression she's out to get me. It feels like she's gunning for me. You wouldn't think she'd plot against her top producer; then again, it makes sense because I'm the only one who's figured out how much she's been slacking.
”I'm sure it was an oversight. Kathleen wouldn't want us to rob our clients, right?” That b.i.t.c.h is SO trying to set me up. ”Don't worry. I'll take care of it with her. Now give me the old contract so I can shred it while you generate a new one.”
I watch as my new couch turns to shards in the shredder, and I want to cry.
Shouldn't doing the right thing feel good?
Operation Make More Money is in full swing! And were it not for my recent Luggage Emergency41 my couch kitty would be fat indeed due to my genius idea earlier this summer.
Right after the MNOW debacle,42 I gave my millionth presentation to one of our public relations agency clients. And for the millionth time the twenty-four-year-old PR girls were too hungover to focus on my pitch. Clad entirely in black and accented by silver jewelry, this pack of anorexic ladies sat blank-faced and empty-headed in my meeting, completely oblivious to attempts to engage them in my investor relations presentation.43 ”So, Meagan, Bethany, Kirsten, Sasha, Lynsey, and Monique,44 do you all understand how using product X will satisfy your clients' desire to reach the inst.i.tutional investor?” I asked.
”Oh, Meagan had to dash to the lav,” Bethany volunteered cheerfully. ”She drank a whole pitcher of frozen sangria by herself at Uncle Julio's last night and she was about to vom.” I rolled my eyes in exasperation.
”Ewww, please don't mention sangria or I'll totally get sick, too. Casey and I hit dollar-beer night at Barleycorn's and we totally-” began Lynsey.
”Yes, I'm totally sorry to hear that,” I interjected. ”Like I was saying, product X will-”
”Um, excuse me?” Sasha with the Cleopatra-cut bangs interrupted.
”Yes, Sasha?”
”I just wanted to tell you I love your bracelets.”
Like a pack of magpies, these girls were fascinated by small, s.h.i.+ny objects. They probably would have paid more attention to me if I came in flas.h.i.+ng bits of my Nanny's sterling tea set.
”Thank you. To continue, product X is key when your client needs to get-”
”And your big lapel flower. It's soooo s.e.x in the City!” Kirsten added.
Why did I feel like I was trying to herd a pack of cats?
”Great, thanks. AS I WAS SAYING-”
”I love s.e.x in the City! Carrie Bradshaw is my idol!” squealed Monique, her voice barely overpowering her Eternity perfume.
”Me, too!” chorused the rest of the group, looking at one another under lashes darkened by a variety of Lancme products.
I hated these girls so very much.45 ”If we could please get back on topic. PR professionals like you have found-”
”I saw you arrive when I was outside smoking. Was that your husband who dropped you off?” Lynsey asked.
”No, he's my boyfriend. In regard to inst.i.tutional investors-”
Lynsey was undeterred. ”He's WAY adorable! He looks just like Ed Norton, only with darker hair!”
”I guess he does a bit.” Personally, I always thought he looked more like Ron Livingston in Swingers. Something about his sardonic brows, or maybe the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles.
Sasha asked, ”Did you meet him here?”
”No, we met in college.”
It was all I could do to not stab each of them in the neck with the sharp end of my cla.s.sic Chanel camellia brooch. I wasn't there to chat about my personal life. I wanted to talk about investor relations! But if I yelled at them, they'd never buy anything from me.
”How?”
”Pardon?”
”How did you meet him?”
Incredulous, I asked, ”Let me get this straight-you'd rather hear how I met my boyfriend than how these tools will make you more effective at your jobs? You're more interested in a silly, embarra.s.sing college story from seven years ago than learning how to best serve your clients?”
”Yes!” ”Definitely!” ”Please!” Since any chance to educate them washed away after the third round at Barleycorn's last night, I decided to humor them in an effort to build the relations.h.i.+p.
”OK, it's 1994 and we both got jobs at a bar and grille on campus. After the grand opening, a group of us went out together for a new employee bonding session. Everyone ended up at my apartment after the bars closed because I had a deck. Fletch, that's his name, and no, he's NOT named after the Chevy Chase movie,” I added, antic.i.p.ating their next question, ”made terrible martinis, drank too many of them, threw up in my shower, and finally pa.s.sed out. The next morning he woke up full of regret and wanted to make it up to me. So I had him put up shelves in my apartment. He took me to dinner that night and we've been together ever since. The end.”
”Ooh! That's so ro!” shrilled Bethany.
”Yes, Bethany,” I replied, ”because every romantic fairy tale ends with Prince Charming woofing up blue nacho chips on the princess' floral shower curtain from Target.”
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