Life happens while you’re in an elevator
Okay, so Shan and I were in the elevator at the National Press Club this morning when we heard that Sniperoo presumably shot victim #14. I felt the tears rush to my eyes, but I didn’t shed them. I ached for the victim, who has since been pronounced dead; I ached for his family; I ached for Washingtonians who fear every minute for their lives; and I ached for families in the Middle East for whom such random acts of violence are far more common and on a far greater scale.
But the elevator ride from our moderately successful press conference was awesome … we rode with Janet Reno!!! Not that Shan and I are stargazers, by any means, but it was just so very impressive to be near someone we consider to be a celebrity.
Press conference was good … it attracted about as much attention as I expected it would. We were supposed to have CNN in attendance, but due to the sniper shooting, they left a message stating that they were heading to the hospital in Aspen Hill, Md., to cover the latest victim’s condition. But after the event, I got a call from Headline News, asking for me to set up an interview for a live feed at 7:40 a.m. tomorrow morning. Not bad for a day.
Shan was really the one who made miracles happen. All the press we got, came from her bank of contacts. She even got us into the Press Club, which is difficult at best, especially considering that no one from our association even holds a membership there. My predecessor, now known as J-HO, didn’t get a soul to attend … and of course she will be paid for her efforts. Luckily, though, she wasn’t there.
Jackie Chan, now known as plain ol’ Jackie, ’cause it can stand for JackOFF or JackASS, thus being equally accurate to the original name, was a big fat poopy-head today. The second he saw Shan, he made a shitty comment. And he was just plain old annoyed to be there, and made it a point to let everyone know it. Fuckhead. Shan and I met with him later (to be explained), and he was just on an ego trip. I wanted to kick his ass to the moon, but given the opportunity, I’d have to pass it to Shan, ’cause she’s the one regaled to wiping his ass all day, every day.
But for any aggravation suffered in advance of the press conference, I rather enjoyed attending it. Two hot, single men were there, and I was working it with both of them. Hee hee. One was the Matt who showed up at our association’s recent Open House (he was the one all the girls were drooling over, and I was the only one who got his number). I was pleased to see that he came out to support us today, and I dropped him a crafty little thank-you-for-attending e-mail, with a suggestion that we should really get togther to talk about ways we can possibly work together in the future. Hah.
The other was Mike, from Boston. Yowza, as Shan would say. I was hot for him, too. He and Matt were both just too cute for words, professional, insightful and just plain candy for the eyes. Mmmm. I’d like to get a taste of his hot baked beans. lol.
Drama was in store, however, when I arrived at work. I stopped into the bathroom to take a piss (why else would I go there, huh?!?!). Yellow-Haired Bitch was in there and made some comment to me about the press conference. Now, she’s supposedly in charge of media relations, but she really sits on her big fat ass and talks to her daughter and husband on the phone all day. She was not in on the whole press conference planning (probably because she’s a fucking idiot), and I assume that’s why she picked fights with me and with Shan today. Of course, she didn’t even attend the conference … probably had some candy jars to hit in the office and was glad to be rid of some of us, for easier grazing. Argh. I don’t know. I’m being catty.
At any rate, in the toily, after her comment, I said something that, frankly, needed to be said. (Background: Jackie zipped out of the conference to head to CNN with our president, leaving behind hot Mike and his boss, Bill, who’s just cool as shit. Bill and Mike were concerned, however, because they had organized the CNN interview that aired this morning, using their contacts, and today, Jackie went back to CNN without them in a supposedly unrelated interview … which, if you ask me, I wholeheartedly believe that Jackie used them for their contacts and snuck behind their backs for his own self-promotion.)
Anyway, I told Yellow-Haired Bitch that some damage control needs to be done, that Bill and Mike are somewhat hurt and confused about being excluded, particularly when they were the ones who had the contacts with CNN and gave us the entree. She hypocritically told me that they just need to take a pill (she’s admittedly addicted to Zoloft). I said they were not upset, just concerned, as I had just said, had she been listening (I said that kinda sharply, but she’s an idiot). She said it’s none of their business, because it was a call that came in randomly through our front desk and she responded to it, as she is the media person. I said I don’t care how it happened (and that it’s a shame that we’re not actively contacting the media with our expertise, but oh well. Story for another day.) but that there is a PERCEPTION on the part of our NEW PARTNERS that we might have used them … something that needs to be ADDRESSED and HEALED in order for the partnership to possibly continue.
Further, I asked what, then, was the interview about. She explained it. Sounded awfully familiar to the content of our press conference, to which Bill and Mike contributed significantly, and I said so.
Yellow-Haired Bitch began RAGING at me, saying that all media-related things should pass through her, and that there are too many people involved. She made a SHITTY remark about me handling media issues, how that’s her job and she doesn’t mean to imply that I don’t know what I am doing, but it’s not my place. (I was boiling mad, too much so to point out that HER SUPERVISOR Jackie appointed me to the team.) She was flailing her arms and saying that she needs to talk to Jackie, because it’s just ridiculous how she doesn’t know what’s going on and that people like me are more in the know. And again, she reiterated how “petty and stupid” Mike and Bill were being, for not being included in the afternoon CNN interview, when “it didn’t even have anything to do with them because it’s an interview I handled.”
FUCKING STRAW-HAIRED, FAT-ASSED, MEDICATED FUCKING FREAK!!! She should talk about taking a pill … she must’ve been overdue for her afternoon dose!!!
Realizing that she was spluttering and fucking crazy, I quickly grabbed a toily seat protector and slammed myself into a stall. I don’t reason with the unreasonable. I did not raise my voice; I did not lose my cool. As a person asked to act as a media advisor for this event, I did my part, and then some. It’s not my fault that she’s incompetent. It’s not my fault that she doesn’t know how to do a press conference. And it’s not my place to convince her of that.
While I happily voided my bladder (finally!), she went raging down to Shan’s area, where the president and she were talking. Yellow-Haired Bitch went off about what a fucking asshole she thinks I am, that I’m concerned about what our whiny partners were thinking and I’m creating drama and I’m out of place. Yadda Yadda Bullshit. Shan gave me the rundown, but I was just a bit ticked and hoping that the sniper will see her nasty straw hair and put her out of our misery. 🙂
Shan was most perturbed at Yellow-Haired Bitch anyway, as the lunatic had screamed at her a few times as well. But during the “let’s bash Dawn” fiesta, Shan put her straight into her place that, in fact, I was calling it exactly like it was and was making a perfectly logical recommendation for action. Shan was concerned, though, that I was being bashed in front of the president, but I said to hell with it. I went above and beyond my job responsibilities — to do the bitch’s job. And I did well, damn it. And I would have done more, had Jackie not pissed me off and discarded my efforts the way he did.
But it’s all good. Shan and I had had a business meeting with Bill and Mike, and they are most interested in how we can all help each other. Shan even volunteered us to work for them for free, on the side, just to build that relationship. I was cool with it … I’m all about building my experience base, especially if these guys will be appreciative of our efforts, which they totally were. Jackie couldn’t say “good job” or “thank you,” but the other guys were gushing over our enthusiasm, humor and ability to pull off a press conference in a four-day span. And they were thrilled to dispense business advice and to dangle an invitation to think about doing some side work for their company. Hah. Fuck you, Jackie. Fuck you and your Yellow-Haired Bitch and your mistress J-HO.
And fuck this stupid company. Jesus Christ, if I didn’t work for IKEA Boy and have Shan down the hall for my amusement and sanity purposes, I’d just leave. J-HO and Yellow-Haired Bitch got paid to do publicity, and Shan’s and my stupid asses did it for free, among our other responsibilities. We need to be running our own media relations company … we’ve more than proven that our teamwork is strong, our knowledge is extensive and our ability to plan and to wing that for which we did not plan is keen and unparalleled. It would be nice to work for normal people … ourselves.
Poor IKEA Boy had a shitty day … his computer crashed and lost th 35 beautifully laid-out pages of our publication that he completed today. Lost the whole fucking file. Damn it. I feel horrible for him; I wish I could save the file somehow. Anybody know how to rescue a “Bad File/Error 70”?