I Could Go For That

Once I decided to become anorexic.  It was during my first year in the workforce, when our office had not yet moved downtown and was located in a depressing building next to a park-n-fly by the airport.  My boss, while very nice, seemed to think I was Ryan the Temp from the early days of The Office.  As the youngest member of the department, I was consistently volunteered for absurd tasks, like acting as a hobo in a United Way fundraiser variety show.   The very worst was when the CEO’s executive secretary was on vacation for a week, and my boss volunteered me to do her job so that our department wouldn’t lose access to the CEO while she was gone.  The entirety of my executive secretary skills came from a previous job as a runner and file clerk for a law firm, when I would fill in for the receptionist when she was out.  On those days the paralegals would bring me stacks of magazines and I would spend all day at the reception desk, answering the phone, drinking coffee, and reading US Weekly. 

In this situation, however, the real executive secretary, afraid I was after her job, had blocked me out of the CEO’s calendar and e-mail and locked all her desk drawers.  It happened that the week that I was playing executive secretary was also the week of Hurricane Katrina. Refineries and chemical plants were shut down all over the coast, everyone wanted to talk to the CEO, including the media and the White House, and here I am. 

The silver lining was that I did end up on a first name basis with the CEO.  When I had finally left my credit department position and moved into the –by petrochemical standards- much more glamorous department of Base Chemicals, I was able to do things like sit next to him at a work dinner at my favorite, fancy downtown restaurant, chatting about when he lived in Stavanger, Norway and my visit to Stravanger.  At the time I was on my –not- first glass of wine and was confusing Stavanger (industrial area) with Sunnhordland (region housing Bomlo, the beautiful Norwegian island and my ancesteral home…and even now I’m not even sure that’s the right long-word-starting-with-an-S region of Norway).  So I’ve never actually visited Stravanger, but we had a good chat.  All this would have been very helpful had my goal been Global Oil Industry Domination and not Quit As Soon As I Have A Baby.

But it was in the midst of commuting past 24-hour adult video stores to the airport everyday to be Ryan the Temp in the credit department of a petrochemical company that gave me the idea to be anorexic.  I thought it would be an effective cry for help to get me out of my job with the side effect of getting really skinny.  Unfortunately, I made the mistake of starting my plan on a Friday when I was off work, so I was only anorexic for about two hours, or until I was presented with the opportunity of a bowl of queso.

Which brings me to my point:  Doesn’t queso, restaurant queso with really thin chips, sound so good right now?