Business Time

As I've mentioned before, I work for a small book publisher. One of my goals here is to expand the markets their books are sold into, and one of those markets is sex stores. There are a few titles in the catalogs that are a great fit, and more coming out this spring. In fact, my boss called me yesterday to let me know that he has a box of sex toys for me to look at when I get a chance.
Just the type of phone call I love to get in the workplace!
This is all very blush-worthy trying to have a straight-faced conversation with my boss about these products. And, I just had write an email to a customer that included both the phrases, "Happy belated Thanksgiving!" and "... fluffy handcuffs, velvet restraint, and blindfold".
It turns out it IS a dirty job, and I'm the one who has to do it. Heh, "do it".

Keeping It Real

I may have the grown-ass job of a 28-year-old, where they send me around the U.S. making business decisions and throwing down plastic at client dinners, but I still have the expense report of a 6-year-old left to their own devices with their allowance:

Yes, I NEEDED that cheesewedge magnet and animal crackers.

Lunch Break? Lunch Break.

I'm getting settled in my new job, and while I miss New York, I don't miss fighting tourists in Rock Center for a spot to eat. I may have to battle sea gulls, but this should do just fine this summer.

Heart to Heart

Yesterday I had to say goodbye to my boss. I love him for a lot of reasons, but mostly because he never holds back how he feels and was able to look me in the eye and tell me exactly how he felt about me. He's honestly one of the most genuine people I've ever met.
When we were hugging goodbye, I went in the for the traditional hug: my left arm under his right arm and my right arm over his left arm. He stopped me halfway and moved my arms the opposite way (my right arm under his left arm, etc.) and said, "No, do it this way - our hearts are closer this way."

SO earnest and sweet. Niagra Falls, Frankie Angel.

Southern Hospitality

My boss and I went on a business trip to Nashville, TN and Greenville, SC together last week. We were both dreading it because we were going to be working with some sales reps who sell into Christian retailers. Our dreads came from two different places: I know nothing about religion and my boss is gay. Just to set up who we're dealing with, there is a book we sold that features animals and they said their stores didn't like it because it looked like the animals were having sex, but at least they appeared to be male and female and it wasn't interspecies! Oof.

Also, another book we sent to stores featured a picture of Jesus on the toilet with the words "Holy Crap!" above him. (editors note: oops!) I didn't know how to NOT laugh, or not say "crap" so in my scrambling I promised to never again show them a book that has the Lord "making a two". They all laughed at - not with - me. Oh, and our presentation was recorded, so they'll have that for eternity (which they believe in, incidentally).

Anyway, to take the edge off, my boss and I ate approximately 80 pounds of food over two days, and stayed (in separate rooms!) at a bed & breakfast in Greenville that was - well - below are some pictures. During breakfast (pudding-stuffed french toast with bananas), my boss and I were joking that we looked like newlyweds with the others around us saying, "That poor girl is in for a BIG surprise when she realizes her husband is gay!" and "Why are her pants so baggy and his so tight??"My room was "Out of Africa" themed, my boss got Chantilly French (all pink!).Imagine waking up to this in the middle of the night. Her eyes were blacked out like that Bone Thugs 'N Harmony video. There were all these adorable little gnomes around the outside of the house. David the Gnome was one of my favorite shows growing up, so I had to pay my respects.The woman who runs the B&B saw us taking goofy pictures all around the property (86 pictures, to be exact!), and made us pose for this one. We'll call it, "Divorce. Reason cited: fraud". What a cute, confused married couple. That woman was so nutty. When we got there the night before, she told us it was her first night away from her newborn kid, and she had a glass of wine. She said it was hitting her a lot harder than she thought it would, and she kept giggling all crazily when she was checking us in. Ok, now for the food: Ice cream in Nashville.PUDDING-STUFFED French toast at the B&B. Don't worry, I asked them to print out the recipe if anyone wants it.And, Catwater, this is for you. And, this ... this "All-Star Special" was for me!I've never felt like more of an all-star in my life.

Wins and Fails at Work

Fail: I can't access lala.com anymore. No more musak, and I'm left to the contraints and lottery of Pandora.com now.

Win: I just booked a business trip in Greenville, SC in a few weeks and have decided to stay in a bed-and-breakfast that has an "Out of Africa" theme. Awesome. Maybe I should have splurged and booked the romantic package for two, for one?

Another win is the company's (wise) decision to finally move me into a window office, so I don't lose my mind in my old "closet converted into an office" office. Here's my new view:

Just Learned Something New

So, I just found out the most inappropriate time/place to begin a conversation with your boss about responsibilities/salary/title change: holding 2 blueberry Pop Tarts in the hallway outside of the men's room. Why? Because guys have no problem letting out really loud farts, whereas the ladies wait for a toilet flush or at least cough a little.
I was in the middle of talking, when *fart!* ... I couldn't stop laughing, and all I could think to do was offer my boss one of the Pop Tarts. He declined.

Moving Day: Update!

The day I helped my friend move, I met another friend of hers who lives right across the street from her new apartment. He helped transport some of her "goods". We realized that we work for companies that are related to each other, so we've been emailing for business and friend purposes. He sent me a box of goodies yesterday that he just had "lying around" the office. I want to work in an office that has these items just hanging out:

Star Trek shoes by AIRWALK
Star Trek "Warp Speed" Clock The complete I Love Lucy Series, which is my FAVORITE show ever. I already own this, so this may make its way to an online retailer!

And, not pictured, the entire Beverly Hills, 90210 series which I promptly put in my bag and took home last night to watch! He also sent some America's Next Top Model gear (which had me smizing!) and the entire Twin Peaks collection. I will gladly port around 10 pogo dicks to have such a great present show up in my office again!

We Want You!

Today is my first day back in the office after many days of traveling to Atlanta, Dallas and finally, Chicago. I came back to work today (two hours late, whoops!) with a full voicemail box. One of the messages was from a recruiter in the "Chicagoland area" who wanted to talk to me about a Vice President of Sales position she is looking to "network".
This is the first recruiter call I've received, but man, they clearly don't know who they're leaving messages for. Yes, my title at work includes the word, "manager" in it, but it is preceded by "assistant". No, "to the" is not in between "assistant" and "manager" either.
Having just been in Chicago while it was negative 8 degrees and I had a hole in my boot; I'm not itching to move there. Nonetheless, I was flattered.

No Shot in Hell

Tonight, some co-workers in my department are challenging two other departments to a shot contest. Nothing says "Veteran's Day" like a night of shooting booze competitively. How do you determine who wins, you ask? I'm fuzzy on the official rules, but I believe that whoever is sick first is eliminated.
It's all going to happen at 1-2-3 Burger Shot Beer in Hell's Kitchen. This bar's gimmick is $1 burgers, $2 shots and $3 beers. I was asked to represent the team, but there is no way I can compete. I've had a long-running history of poor decisions and consequences once I've taken shots.
The first time I ever tried alcohol was by way of a shot. During a spring break in high school, I went down to Ensenada in Baja California, Mexico with a friend of mine and her parents. My friend's parents were the ones whose drinking motto was, "I don't care if you drink, as long as it's in my house (or with me in another country)." They also thought the best way to get drunk for the first time was to get there as quickly as possible.
We went to a bar, akin to Senor Frog's, and they ordered us a bucket of beer. I was so scared being in a (kinda) foreign country, about to have a drink. (to set the scene a little further: I was such a good kid growing up; I think I was still in Girl Scouts at the time, and there's a 95% chance that I was wearing khakis and a cardigan from the Gap when this happened) While waiting for our beer, a man wearing a black leather apron was walking around the bar with a whistle in his mouth. My friend's parents motioned him over, where, following their direction, the leather man grabbed my cheeks to open my mouth. He poured tequila down my gullet, put a napkin over my mouth and shook my head - all while blowing his whistle in my ear. That was it. It was over. Drunk. Drunk. Drunk.
This is where it all came off the rails. Within an hour, I rode a mechanical bull, took a picture with a donkey named "Bimbo" on the street and sliced my forehead open with a butterfly knife - because at that point, I didn't understand the mechanics of a switch blade.
There are more stories, even leading up to last weekend, but I think it will be best to avoid the contest tonight - for my safety, my career and my loved ones from the workplace.

Urinspiration

Yesterday was a relatively uneventful day.
For work, I went on a tour of our warehouse out in New Jersey. We met with various departments, placing names with faces, eating cafeteria food and taking in the glory that is the New Jersey Turnpike.
We left around 3:30 pm to head back to the city so we wouldn't get stuck in traffic coming back through the Lincoln Tunnel, which is always the idea, but you're inevitably going to hit it no matter what.
There were four of us in our rental Prius, and when we looped around to face the Lincoln Tunnel, one of the passengers realized they really had to go number 1. It would be at least 45 minutes before we'd get back into New York. The passenger had to make a decision, a decision you never want to have to make in front of co-workers.
Someone had eaten a fruit cup on the drive back - the passenger looked at it. The passenger looked at all of us, then unzipped.
Those of us in the backseat texted furiously, 'OMG' and 'Help Me'. We turned the radio up and averted our eyes, screaming. I'll never be able to listen to The Beatles' "When I'm 64" again.
I felt really bad for the passenger, but also admired their courage - and aim - as I can barely pee when I'm supposed to.

Why I was late to work today

1) My building ran out of hot water; there was some sink bathing

2) I had to move my car (parked a 20 minute walk away) for street cleaning

3) Frankie got shot. I was driving around looking for a space when I turned down a street with a long line of cars. The line crawled forward and a cop stopped me because they were filming something. A car screeches forward, a man jumps out with a prop gun and screams: BANG! BANG! And then an actress screams at the top of her lungs, "Oh my god, you shot Frankie! My husband, Frankie! Ohhhh."

Bathroom etiquette

I've had issues with my work bathroom before.

I'm finally going in there again, but there is this girl who always uses the middle stall to go number 2, which makes it very uncomfortable in a three-stall bathroom. I'd imagine, for boys, it's similar to what happens when someone stands right next to you at the urinal.

I know it's the same girl because she has the WORST taste in footwear: all her shoes look rather hooker-ish (except for her Baby Phat shoes, I loves Baby Phat footwear). Of course, every time I go into the bathroom and there's someone in the middle stall I have to peek at the feet. It's her EVERY TIME. I quietly grimace and shake my fist and the pee anxiety sets in.

Without water running or someone else peeing I totally freeze up. I need encouragement. It becomes even more of a problem with someone is sitting right next to me probably going through the same anxiety as me - only, she's trying not to fart, probably.

So, my message is, don't use the middle stall if you're in a three-stall situation. Give your fellow pee-mate some privacy in an already uncomfortable situation. Oh, and also, stop wearing hooker shoes to work.

Calling all babies!

In the kitchen at work there is the creepiest flier posted on one of the cabinets.

I've seen ads for roommates needed, shopping promotions and some great passive aggressive notes, but this one is by far the worst.

The headline? Calling all babies!

For what? An uncompensated photo shoot where they dress your baby up to define Yiddish words. They want babies of ALL shapes, sizes, races and dispositions.

If anyone would like the information to sign your baby up, please let me know.

Mob Mentality

I've been working the New York International Gift Fair for the past week hawking books and I have never been happier to see something end. The manner in which it ended, however, was absurd.

I had heard that at the close of the show it gets crazy because we give away all our product and people stop by in droves. But, I didn't realize that I would lose my temper, yell at old women and have to physically remove people from the booth.

All day people were stopping by to ask when we were giving away our books, and can they reserve some for later because "I have the cutest granddaughter" or "my son would really love this book." I said no politely at first, but then I had to put my foot down and say, "Lady, everyone has an adorable granddaughter - no piles, no reservations, no exceptions."

The only exception of course was if you were willing to trade me product from your booth. I got some LOVELY items including a "Glow-in-the-Dark Flesh-Eating Zombie" figurine set, a business card holder, an acupuncture session and a telephone! Seriously.

We were giving the books away at noon, and by 10:30 there were people milling around holding stacks and stacks of books. One woman started loading them in bags; when I saw this I politely, yet firmly reminded her that the show was still going on for another hour and half. "But, people have already taken them from outside of your booth." She was right, people had started to steal all the books I couldn't police anymore. But, this woman was trying to negotiate with me why her rude behavior should be acceptable. By 11 am, there was this nutty woman who brought FIVE boxes and said she was mailing them to Israel.

Finally, my boss showed up and laid down the law with an announcement to the tune of "You are allowed only five books each, the show isn't over, you people are greedy animals." This hit the Box Woman really hard, who had come by the booth five times prior to let me know her plans with the books.

We had over 200 books in the booth and at noon, it took 5 finutes for them all to be gone. I heard one thank you.

The 404

"I just got back from Atlanta ... that town is WHACKED." - Todd Packer

I'm a third of the way through my marathon of traveling. This past weekend I was in Atlanta working at the America's Mart during the busiest gift show of the year. It was a really tiring experience full of old ladies buying tons of crap for their stores, speaking in very thick Southern accents and wearing Tammy Faye Baker-esque amounts of mascara.

Before I traveled I had asked a few Southerners I know where I should go or what I should do after work wrapped up every day around 6:30 pm. Thursday I was so exhausted, this is what I did:

I was staying at the Ritz-Carlton, which was a really strange experience. The only other time I had been in that hotel was when I was younger and had to pee really bad. I still remember how weird I thought it was that they had cloth towels in the bathroom instead of paper. While I was checking in with the concierge they asked me if I needed help with my bag up to my room, I said "no thank you." As I went to grab for my bag, a man had already come over to grab it. I said, "oh, thank you, sir, but I've got it." He said, "Miss, I'm just turning it around for you." I'm not cut out for this, despite being fancy with my penthouse parties.

Friday, I made it out to the Georgia Aquarium, which was really impressive. It only took about an hour to walk through, and they had a jazz band playing there, too. I touched a shark and a sting ray, and the tanks were full of all sorts of fish, and even followed along the ceiling:


Saturday I got supper at Ted Turner's restaurant with someone from another publishing house, and I tried bison for the first time. We sat right next to the kitchen and a hot onion ring fell on my thigh; the waitstaff quickly apologized and then put the onion ring right back into the serving tray for someone to enjoy. Later on Saturday night, I did something I'd never done before: went to a bar by myself. Now that I'm a "business executive" I wanted to try it out, and it was pretty boring. I did watch an elderly couple cut a rug on the dance floor and the very flamboyant bartender gave me some "cheese nubblies - they're good for you!"

After working a few hours on Sunday, I went to the airport to get an earlier flight. I got one, thank goodness, but then the heaven's opened up and a big thunderstorm hit. My flight got delayed to the original time I had booked. Charlie Brown. Today I'm so tired and I look it. I went into work late and my boss said, "WOW, you look exhausted." I worked a total of an hour and then went out to sushi with a buddy of mine.

Overall it was a good trip. I met some fun people, slept in an amazing bed, stole tons of toiletries and even met a cab driver whose family lives on a street very close to my childhood home outside Los Angeles.

Tomorrow it's off to Chicago for a day, and then to Los Angeles for the rest of the week and weekend. Los Angeles should be interesting given the state of the family right now.