Bitter Is The New Black Part 22

They aren't using a Dumpster, instead choosing to stuff construction debris in all the neighbors' garbage cans up and down the alley. Since the cans are full, the other residents are simply throwing their trash on the ground, and it's a virtual rodent fiesta!

"I think one of them lost a finger today," Fletch tells me. "I half expected to see a rat run off with it in his mouth."

"Serves them right. I'm still mad about the phone." Recently we lost phone service, coincidentally right after they b.u.mped into the pole with their big machine with the shovel on the front of it. I heard the noise and went outside to inspect the damage and saw a ton of loose wires hanging from said pole. The one guy who can speak English on the crew swore they had nothing to do with it.

I, um, politely disagreed.

Let's just say after I mentioned the Department of Naturalization and Immigration, he suddenly remembered the accident and got it fixed. What's nice is I now know how to say b.i.t.c.hy Fat Girl in Russian.

Or possibly Polish.

Weblog Entry 3/10/03150 IT'S ALL GREEK TO ME Did you know that Lifetime has a separate movie network now? I made this happy discovery when our satellite dish was installed at our new house. I'd always figured that Lifetime was a repository for Tori Spelling movies151 but had no idea how many of today's most sought-after actresses got their start here. Presently they're running a Road to Fame series featuring B movies with A-list talent. Although I missed the Gwyneth Paltrow/Robert Urich opus, I caught Dying to Belong, starring Hilary Sw.a.n.k.

I was not disappointed!

In the movie, Hilary is a college freshman who goes through sorority rush with her nerdy, wannabe roommate Jenna Von Oy.152 They pledge Pi Gamma Beta and thus the drama began and anything resembling reality ended.

Seriously? I laughed my a.s.s off.

I have rushed, pledged, and held leaders.h.i.+p positions within a sorority, so I'm intimately familiar with collegiate Greek systems. It was painfully obvious to me that the writer/director/producer of this masterpiece couldn't say the same. They took every bit of negative, stereotypical anecdotal evidence and smushed it together to make this movie.153 Anyway, the gist of the movie is that Six dies during a hazing incident and all the sisters clam up in the Pan-h.e.l.lenic version of omerta to protect Pi Gamma.

Yeah, right.

I pledged to protect my sorority's rituals to the grave, too. But I have to tell you the minute I had a couple of drinks in me, I was comparing handshakes and secret knocks with the rest of my Greek buddies. The stuff that seemed so solemn when whispered by candlelight was HILARIOUS after ten Miller Lites. So I guarantee these sorority girls would have thrown the guilty party under the bus the second the cops started to question them.

If you want a real picture of what life in the Greek system is like, check out MTV's Sorority Life. I watched this program over the summer and found the cattiness, the bulls.h.i.+t, and the liability discussions so much like my own experience that I sweated for a minute over whether I'd gotten all the signatures on my pledge paddle.

Point? The real "secret" of these secret societies is why we joined them. It wasn't for sisterhood or ritual or lifetime commitment or the privilege of sharing a bathroom with 87 other girls. The secret is...

...we joined them to meet boys.

"Good morning! Are you in?" Fletch greets me from his station on the couch. He's parked in front of The Price Is Right.

"I still don't know." I'm back from a breakfast meeting with Chris Birchton. I've had four more interviews with the company, bringing me to a total of six so far. I've met three vice presidents, two partners, and today, a founder. "I mean, yes, I'm dying to work for these guys. I know their client base, I love their approach to doing business, and I'm so impressed with their integrity. Every person I meet makes me want this job more. I'm just not sure how I did today."

"How come?"

"The founder was walleyed. I tried to maintain eye contact, but I didn't know which one to look at-they were kind of all over the place."

"They won't hold that against you."

"I guess. We talked about compensation today and he hinted about making an offer, so that's a good indicator. And how about you? Anything happen while I was gone?"

It's been two weeks since Fletch's trip to New York. While he was out there, he met the entire executive board of the company. They treated him to a sw.a.n.ky lunch at a private club and pretty much fawned all over him. With the battering his ego's taken lately, I'm glad an employer finally recognized what an a.s.set he'd be.

After he made the rounds, the recruiter told Fletch they were going to hire him and to expect an offer letter any day now. Normally this would be cause for great celebration, but the whole situation strikes me as a little off. The recruiter didn't tell him any terms, like salary, benefits, or start date. If you're going to make an offer, you make the offer and then back it up with a letter, you know?

"I called them and they said everything was proceeding as planned. I definitely have the job, although they're still checking references." Fletch shrugs and returns his attention to Bob Barker.

"Wait a minute. It's been four days. What do they need to know that they can't find out in four days' time? You should have them talk to me; I can tell them whatever they want. Not only am I married to you, but I met you at work, so I know your work ethic. It's good."

"Thanks, but I don't think so."

"Why not? I'd be totally honest. I'd tell 'em your drawbacks, too. Your taste in music sucks, you have an obsession with keeping your car clean, and you still haven't unpacked the boxes in the den. On the upside, you're a snappy dresser, you're smart, and you always pick up the lunch tab. What's not to like?"

"When you put it like that, I'm a shoo-in. By the way, Courtney called. She and Brett are having dinner tonight and she wants us to join them for a drink afterward."

"Can we afford it?"

"We'll manage. After all, we're both about a week away from starting work, right?"

Wheeeee!!! Drunkieee like a Monkeees! Courtnneee and Bretttt are cuttttte. KISSY KISSY. And stoooopid, stoooopid Kathleen is beeeingg meeeeannn to Court!! I tolle you she's BAAAAADDD. I talllked and taaalked about Birchycompany and saidddd it was GGGGRRRRRReeat! Court saysss Brichtooom LURVES me and I haaaaavve a jooooobbb! Wooo hooo! Ricccchhh aaaagaiiin!!

"Hey, sweetie, guess what," I call, walking in the back door. "It must be Take Your Child to a Dangerous Construction Site Day! There's a ton of little kids crawling all over the haphazardly stacked pallets of bricks and Mount Garbage. I'm going to stand on the porch with the cordless phone so I can call nine one one when one of them gets flattened like Wile E. Coyote. Fletch, you've got to see this!" Silence. "Fletch? You here?" More silence. "Honey, where are you?"

I walk up the stairs and find Fletch sprawled facedown on the bed. "Fletch? What's up?"

Face in his pillow, he mumbles, "I didn't get the job."

"WHAT? How can that be? What happened? Did you get a bad reference?"

"No, the recruiter said my references were great. They said an internal candidate came up late last week, so they gave the job to him."

"No! They can't do that! They can't tell someone they have a job and then NOT GIVE IT TO HIM. They can't! I don't know if it's illegal, but it's totally unethical."

"They did it anyway."

"But why are you just lying there? Why aren't you up in arms? This is infuriating! Why aren't you mad?"

"I give up."

"You can't just give up. What does that mean, anyway? You give up?"

"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.