Why You Should Never Tell Me You Really Have To Go To The Bathroom

I don't know about you, but I've never "worked a booth" at a conference before, but I did about this time last year.  My employer, a biological organization, was hosting an international scientific conference, so I worked our booth.  We got a lot of folks coming by for information about the Society and the usual swag (T shirts, buttons, books, "Ed Monton" the souvenir plush caribou). Of course it was wax and wane - 45 minutes of nuttiness and two hours looking at each other, waiting for the next break after presentations.

And two hours is a long time, which is filled with inane yak.  After one busy stint Drew, our Membership Coordinator, said, "I MUST go to the Ladies!"   I freaked out and said GO RIGHT NOW.  She looked a little startled, but then went. She came back and said, Um?  So I said:

DUDE.  I cannot deal when someone has to go to the bathroom.  It is impossible to tell you how panicked I get.  It’s like I have to go FOR them.  This person HAS TO PEE.  I'm like, "People, out of the way!  My friend needs the bathroom!  MAKE A HOLE!"

And maybe this comes from when I wet myself in my favorite dress in first grade because my teacher wouldn't let me go?... Or when I was on a Brownie trip (precursor to Girl Scouts) to Boston and I had to go in a Tupperware cup on a public bus...?

Probably not.

I even have dreams about it.  Not like I have to go and I just can't find a bathroom.  Oh no.  I can find the bathroom, but I can't get in because there's some code or something to open it.  Or I find the bathroom, but the toilets themselves are such alien contraptions - the stirrups from the gyno table, you have to hang from a monkey bar, it looks like a weight machine from the gym - I can't figure out how to use it.  Or it is a roomful of people (male, female) watching me and the only place to go is right in the middle in front of everyone....

Meanwhile.

Where was I?

So about then Kaitlyn our intern spun in, bouncing in a chair and rattling on about her PhD presentation being late; a meeting in twenty minutes; and a two-hour focus group ahead of her - and then she announced:

DID I SAY - I HAVE TO PEE SO BAD I CANNOT EVEN BEGIN TELL YOU!

Drew hit the floor laughing and THAT'S WHEN MY HEAD EXPLODED.

I'm also afraid of heights and ocean liners.  Yeah, I'm not well.

Joys of a Creative

Back in my advertising life, I'd go back and forth between:

1.  You produce a string of good work - not brilliant, but presentable - then maybe you actually get something strong and conceptual produced.

Right about then - The Hack Police come.

They bust into your office and announce, "Elle, we are sorry to inform you, you're a Hack.  Come with us please."

"But - wait!  That last spot for Mazda wasn't that bad!"

"Ma'am, we've been watching your work for some time.  We're sorry for your loss."

And your career is over.



2.  You're on a roll.  You're winning every creative shoot out you're assigned to, you are flying to cool places to work with awesome directors.

You go to the award show in New York to pick up the statue, people slip you their cards.  Maybe you'll get to go to Cannes.

You are heady with success, you drink too much champagne and then - you wake up around 4am, and your mind says, "Hope you enjoyed that awesome night - because you are NEVER HAVING ANOTHER DECENT IDEA EVER AGAIN, EVER."

And your career is over.

Online Dating

All of my lady friends* have encouraged me to try the online dating.  They all either have met, or know someone who has met, a fine specimen of a man through Match.com, and I should too.  It's brilliant!  You meet so many people you would have never met otherwise!  There are tons of men out there, Elle, who would be thrilled to go out with you!

You do have to be in the proper mindset, though, to fill out the never-ending questionnaire.  SO MANY QUESTIONS.  And most of my answers would be, It depends.  (The lawyer in me).

And obviously - to make a good impression,  you really shouldn't be depressed when you fill out these things (Me?  Depressed?)

Q:  What is your current state of mind?
A:  South Dakota.

Q:  What mood are you in usually?  Hopeful?  Content?
A:  Bitter.

Q:  When were you happiest?
A:  Right before I started filling out this idiotic questionnaire.

And so on.

I dutifully filled out the questionnaire in a happy positive way; posted a couple pictures, and promptly forgot about it.

Now it's about two months later and I realize I have to actually check the site for emails and such.  I go to my page and it tells me 87 people have looked at my profile - and as a result, I have three emails!

THREE?

Seriously?  Only three.  Three out of 87.  I would have had a better return if I had launched a direct mail campaign.

So now in addition to the five-ish guys I've asked out and been rejected by in person, I'm about to hit triple digits in guys rejecting me online.

Thanks Internets!


*Oddly enough, none of my guy friends think its a good idea.  What's up with that dudes?