Part 22 (2/2)

”I'm tired of fighting.”

”But this is bulls.h.i.+t. Can't you sue them or something?”

”They never gave me anything in writing.”

”Honey, if this is a joke, I'd sure appreciate it if you'd spring the punch line on me now. Really, you got a six-figure salary and an office, right? Right? Fletch? Right??”

Fletch looks at me like he's carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. ”It's no joke.”

”What if you'd quit a job contingent on them making an offer? What if we planned to move because they said they were hiring you? They simply cannot do this.”

”Jen, it's done. I don't want to talk about it anymore. Just leave me alone so I can take a nap.”

”Those motherf.u.c.king weasels. I want revenge.”

”Jen, let it go. It's over. It doesn't matter.” He pulls the covers up to his ears and turns to face the wall. I try to hug him but he pulls away.

I head downstairs to pace and plot. After practically wearing a path across the floor, I realize there's nothing I can do to settle the score that isn't dangerous and illegal. I lie down on the couch, take off my gla.s.ses, and have a cathartic cry.

I'm not sure how much more stress I can take. My stomach is constantly in knots over our financial situation and I hate all this uncertainty. I'm filled with regret over my old lifestyle. Why did I make such bad choices? Why didn't I listen to my dad when he said the bubble was going to burst? Why didn't I acquiesce to my mother's pleas to sock away 15 percent of my paycheck each week? What, exactly, led me to believe I was invincible? Why didn't I follow my brother's advice to buy a cheaper place somewhere less fas.h.i.+onable instead of p.i.s.sing an ocean of money away on a trendy rental?

How come I never realized that my compensation was a fluke and I had no right making the money I did with the experience I had? I used to base my self-worth on what I did and how I lived, but now that times are different, I've propped myself up by being proud of my abilities. But what if I'm really not as smart and competent as I thought? Then what? The tears come hard and fast.

Loki wedges his way in next to me, and Maisy positions herself next to the couch, munching on a bone. I bury my face in the ruff of Loki's neck and allow the self-pity to wash over me.

I hate feeling sorry for myself. In the scope of things, I've been pretty fortunate and this self-pity is weak and contemptible. I force myself to stop crying and decide to go to the gas station for a Dolly Madison fruit pie. There's almost nothing sweetened apples and frosty pie crust can't make better. I reach for my gla.s.ses and they're not where I left them. On my hands and knees, I look for them under the couch but they're gone.

Then I see that Maisy is not chewing one of her Brontosaurus bones. Rather, she's enjoying $600 worth of custom-made, Italian-framed tortoisesh.e.l.l gla.s.ses, which I loved because they made me look exactly like Ashley Banfield on MSNBC.

And then the floodgates really open.

To: Sandy Case From: [email protected] Date: March 26, 2003 Subject: Senior Account Manager Hi, Sandy, I just saw that the position I'd interviewed for was re-posted on Monster.com, along with a different Birchton & Co. job. This leads me to wonder if Birchton is expanding the search to find the best candidate, which would make sense given all the talent currently available. If that's the case, could you please let me know if I'm still being considered? Another opportunity has come up for me, 154 but I don't want to pursue it until I know whether or not your organization is interested, as Birchton is absolutely my first choice.

Many thanks, Jen Lancaster

To: Chris Birchton From: Date: April 5, 2003 Subject: Senior Account Manager Chris, I haven't heard from anyone at Birchton for almost two weeks. After having six interviews, I'm more than a little curious about my status. I saw that the job listing was re-posted after my final round of interview, so I'm not sure what to think, especially as no one has taken me up on my offer to provide references.

Although I really liked the people I met and the job sounds like an interesting challenge at which I know I'd excel, it's not going to hurt my feelings if a more appropriate candidate is selected. I would, however, appreciate a head's up one way or another.

Thanks, Jen Lancaster

”Birchton and Company, how may I direct your call?”

”Sandy Case, please.” I am getting an answer TODAY about this job.

”May I ask who's calling?” If this receptionist were any more chipper, I'd find a way to worm through the phone cord so I could strangle her with it.

”Tell her it's Jen Lancaster.”

”Sure thing. Hold, please.” I listen to the Muzak version of ”Summer of '69” while I wait. Yuck. I hate Bryan Adams almost as much as Dave Matthews.

”Um, Jen? Sandy's on another line. Can she call you back?”

”No. I'll hold.”

”It could be a while.”

”I said I'd wait.” Sandy's dodged my calls all week.

I hear m.u.f.fled conversation in the background and seconds later, Sandy answers. ”Sandy Case speaking.”

”Sandy, it's Jen Lancaster. I'm calling to check on the status of my application.”

I can hear Sandy exhale on the other end of the line. ”Jen, I'm sorry. I've been meaning to get back to you but it's just been so hectic around here that I haven't had a chance.”

”Well, now's your chance. Can you please let me know what's happening? I ask because I have another opportunity,155 and I'm hesitant to move forward with them until I know my status with Birchton.”

”Jen, I'm going to be honest. We're not hiring you. We all met you and thought you'd be a great fit. We were ready to extend an offer. Then we saw your Web site, and we found its content to be inappropriate. You know, some of your 'Companies That Suck' are our clients, and we simply cannot have an employee denigrating them.”

”Whoa, wait, stop. First of all, I'd planned to take the site down once I started working because it was a joke, and second of all, how did you even find out about it? My picture is obscured and at no point do I ever mention my name or that of my former employer.”

”How we found out is irrelevant. I'm sorry, but we're going to keep looking.”

”I understand you have to do what you think is best for your business. However, the polite and professional thing to do would have been to tell me two weeks ago so I could stop wasting my time.”

”For your own sake, I suggest you take down that awful Web site.”

”You know what? My site is funny. And if you can't appreciate my sense of humor, then your not hiring me is for the best. Thanks, anyway.” I hang up before she can say anything else.

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