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Monday, June 14, 2004

A Gig to Remember 

Am I freelancing, or am I adultering? I can't help but feel the tiniest bit confused when so quickly in the new "assignment," the key relationship pronouns come in to play. "We have to cancel our 4:30." "We need to check in with the kids." (well, "team," but the meaning is pretty much the same.) "See if we can get reservations at the Four Seasons." And while I know we're talking business class compadres, for just a flash of a milisecond, I laugh at myself, with myself, that the moment was there for the taking, wondering just what the hell is wrong with me that the thought even crosses my mind. Our mind? "We're staying at the Four Seasons. We've got the lover's suite, heart shaped bed, champagne buckets all around the room... it's going to be grand, my darling. Simply grand. A weekday getaway, just you and me. We've waited so long. This is just what we need. No more phones, fax machines, chuck the flourescents for the California sunshine and let it warm our love once more."

Which is not to say I find myself attracted to any of the exclusively male executives that I'm working with. It just happens, this twisted powerful relationship pronoun perversion. They don't mean anything by it, any more than I do. Its. Just. There. This man, three minutes in my life, using a word as loaded as "we" without any sense of irony whatsoever. And it's gotten most uncomfortable at times, when I approach Mr. Exec and request a credit card to clinch a purchase on our behalf. Without so much as a second thought, poof! There it is, all the access to all his assumed riches. One can't help but chuckle to oneself, knowing that one is an honest going kind of gal, but heaven forbid, if he comes in to work smelling like another woman one more time, I'll take him for all he's worth.

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