Gathering the Troops

This week has been fun trying to invite people to my Superbowl party. The first and only rule is: no emails as it kind of defeats the whole purpose.

I don’t have a Rolodex of everyone I’ve met in the last 18 months but that’s okay. It’s an excuse to track people down and talk to them.

So first, I called the people I know well enough to have phone numbers for. Gunther obviously. And his stupid friend Gordo. I also called Monica but she wasn’t home and I left a message. I called Scott and we caught up for a bit. He’s been auditioning a lot and has a new girlfriend. I invited people from work like Janet, but not Neil and Kyle because they’re just co-workers not strangers I talk to.

I ran into Polly and she’s coming. And my new friend Luke from the pet store.

Tracking down the rest has been a challenge. I left a note for Maria the cleaning lady but I’d be surprised if she showed up. I also left a note for letter carrier Hung and Pedro the newspaper guy.

But I visited Ramon the dry cleaner in person. He was actually very helpful in explaining who was playing and the backstory for the game. I also invited the Cheese Guy and Check-out Girl in person because I was Whole Foods anyway and it was easy. The check-out girl (with the nose ring) is named Astrid and I made sure to invite her in front of Michelle so she didn’t think I was asking her out. She asked if she could bring a friend and I said the more the merrier.

All in all, I invited a couple dozen people and I have no idea how many will actually show up. But I’m buying a lot of beer and a couple party subs from Bay Cities so hopefully it will be a decent turnout.

Janet in Reception No More

Janet was promoted. She is now an analyst.

This is baffling for several reasons. First, I had no idea Janet knew anything about banking or was even interested in financial markets. Being an analyst is no picnic. Sure it pays a hell of a lot more than a receptionist, but you have to really like math and spreadsheets. I never in a million years thought Janet with her numerous tattoos was looking to get into investment banking.

Also–and I’m not sure how to say this without sounding like an elitist dick–but Janet is kind of dumb. I mean she’s nice and she gives good advice about relationships but she doesn’t seem to be able to read a financial statement. She routinely says, “It’s six of one, a baker’s dozen of the other.” Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe she’s hiding her brains as some sort of sociological experiment, but Janet does not exude “finance.”

And lastly, and this is where I actually talked to Janet about this, why would Janet want to go from 40 hours a week to 80-100? Analysts work long hours. When I was an analyst, 3/4 of my “class” washed out and went to law school because they thought those hours would be better.

So after I congratulated her, I asked her if she knew what she was getting into.

She said, “It’s an opportunity to start a new career. How can I say no to that?”

I said, “What about social work? I thought you wanted to go get your MSW.”

She laughed and said, “Yeah, and social workers make less than garbage men.”

I totally agree, I just didn’t realize she saw it that way.

Then she placed her hand on my forearm like she always does to people, smiled, and said, “So I guess you’re my boss now.”

I said, “So go get me a pizza then!”

She laughed. But the funny thing is that investment banking is such a boys’ network that when I first started I actually did get pizzas for the associates and VP’s. And when I got promoted, the first thing I did was order two analysts to drive to Santa Monica to get me a Godmother at Bay Cities.