Girl and City

So I had an utterly exhausting weekend. Mostly because I slept about 10 hours in total since Thursday. Coffee saved me. Every. Single. Day.

I had a conference in The City the last few days. In order not to miss class, I went to an 8:00AM class on Thursday morning, then got on the train for The City. On the train, I ran into a classmate who was also heading into The City for interviews (it’s summer recruiting season for him). I had wanted to sleep on the train, but no luck. Instead, he spent two hours running his mouth off about all the interviews he had¹. When I got off the train, I wanted to take a taxi to the hotel, because I didn’t want to walk the two blocks with my luggage. Yeah, I was tired and lazy. But the taxi driver wouldn’t take me! He said it was too close, I should just walk. So he literally dumped me on the sidewalk.

By the time I arrived at the hotel, the cocktail reception had already started. I checked into my room to realize that I had roommates. Three roommates, no less. Was this a joke?
When I realized the conference organizers weren’t joking, that I was expected to share a bed with a complete stranger, I was not amused. Two of my roommates were in first year, and my bed-mate was in fourth year. They were all from the commerce program of The Other University.
I quickly staked my claim by unpacking my stuff over as much area as possible (their shit seemed to have exploded all over the hotel room and bathroom counter – although I should have expected that when I realized there were going to be four girls sharing one very small bathroom), and changed into a business casual dress for the reception.

At the reception, I realized that of the 100 delegates, about 15 were external delegates (including myself). That means that only 15 people were from another university, and the rest of the 85 people were from The Other University. The Other University and The Business School are rivals, so I tried to avoid the question, “So what school are you from?” lest the mob descend on me on the first night.
It got worse. I also realized that most of the delegates were first and second year students. I was probably one of four upper-year students.
Let me explain the gravity of the situation. I was in enemy territory, surrounded by nearly 100 people who did not go to my school and did not like my school. I was also surrounded by nearly 100 people who were barely of age and were running around asking for fake IDs so they could go to the evening bar festivities. They were so naive that they had no idea what the difference between finance, accounting, and consulting were, and was under the delusion that they could get a career in any industry they wanted. I wanted to strangle them.
Suffice to say, this was not my scene. (more…)

1. He had literally gotten every single interview. He had second rounds from every single investment bank as well as the top three consulting firms. This kid was impressive. [↩]

“Girls Night Out or Girls Gone Wild?” was the question I was trying to answer this Saturday night with WAF. We’d been planning a staycation for this weekend because we both needed to let out some steam. To get the best bang for our buck, we booked one night at a hostel¹ and planned to start the weekend off right, with shopping and cocktails, followed by pre-drinking at a lounge and ending the night at a club.

At noon on Friday, we were just finalizing our plans via a flurry of excited emails² when I received an email from LawyerMan asking if I still wanted to work for him as a legal assistant at his firm. I hadn’t heard from him since the interview, where he had made it abundantly clear that I was grossly underqualified for the position. I had interpreted the lack of communication as “I am too busy to even email you to let you know that, like I said at the interview, I don’t want you,” and left it at that. When I read his email, a simple one-liner asking if I was still interested in the position, I jumped at the opportunity and immediately said yes. I asked him when he wanted me to start. He said Monday.

Keep in mind that not only was I currently working, but I was in a different city! What kind of employer emails you on Friday afternoon to tell you to come in on Monday? Did he think I’d been sitting on my ass, twiddling my thumbs for the entire four weeks since the interview?
But of course I said yes, because I was afraid he’d change his mind. After all, this was the sort of opportunity that could really help me with my career, even if the opportunity came with an inconsiderate boss.
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1. two summers ago, I had stayed at hostel with Zee and ER so I was comfortable with it, but this time we were staying at a different hostel, so I wasn’t sure if it would be sketchy or not. It turned out to be quite clean, although the location was a bit sketchy. [↩]
2. Both of us were at work and, apparently, not that dedicated to our jobs. [↩]

Yesterday, I met BI in Chinatown and filled her in on what had happened with HB over baskets of steamed dumplings and rolls of fried dough.

“He blamed it on my sleepwear, as if I was wearing it to seduce him!”
Like a good girl friend, BI mocked outrage. “You? Seduce? Impossible.”
“It gets better. Guess what I was wearing?” I paused for dramatic effect. “I was wearing a purple cotton dress with a pirate face on it. My mom had bought it for me.”
BI laughed so hard she nearly fell out of her chair. The patrons on either side of us looked at us before resuming their meal. We didn’t stop laughing until the waiter arrived with our glutinous rice roll with meat floss¹ and rolled scallion pancake with sliced beef.

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1. Meat floss is what it’s called on their menu, which I find kind of bizarre. It is actually dried shredded pork. [↩]

If you have any sense of foreshadowing, you’ll know are only two types of posts that could follow a three-night sleepover with HB:

1. Juicy, emotionally confusing, and morally questionable
2. Sensible, uptight, and boring

You’ll be happy to hear that my post is of the first variety. While it ranks high in the entertaining category, it ranks low in the my-proudest-moments category. So don’t judge, k?

I arrived at HB‘s to find him vacuuming. Apparently, he cared about making impressions, although this was not the first time I’d stayed at his apartment. Neither of us had planned anything for the first night, so we had dinner with his brother at a Korean/Japanese restaurant nearby. Then, we engaged in our favourite activity: wandering around The City. We walked through urban parks and impromptu art displays, we sat down on benches and stone garden walls, we held hands and linked arms. We were completely in-tune with each other, and conversation flowed endlessly. He never mentioned his relationship status and I never asked.
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Last night, BI came into The City and called me up for dinner. I took her to the swankiest part of The City, filled with celeb-spotting patios, over-priced boutiques, and pretentious restaurants, thinking she would enjoy a fancy dinner. But she didn’t feel like a fancy dinner, so we chatted in an espresso bar while we decided where we wanted to go. For most of the next hour, we bitched about our respective jobs/job prospects. I related to her my disastrous interviews with The Advertising Firm and the ludicrous demands of my Not-A-Real-Job. She sympathized with me on the latter and said that her own summer job was similarly ridiculous. It seems that, in the real world, no one really tells you anything, just throws you into the fray and lets you find your own way out. Worse, it seemed like no one gave proper thought to their business, their customers, or their competitors. Neither of our bosses/other superiors had any sense of logic – something you don’t need to have gone to business school to acquire, but apparently unnecessary to make a profit. Our serious academic approach only won sneers from our more experienced co-workers. Welcome to the Real World, their sneer seemed to say.
But we, being the clever girls that we are, are fazed only to the extent that we will rant about it to our friends after work. Which is exactly what we did.
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